The set for the “The Flags” is impressive.  Almost as imaginative as the grassy knoll created for the indoor outdoor pop festival “Eight Miles High” last summer.  Over ten tons of sand was shipped up from Cornwall to construct the beach scene for the Royal Court Theatre’s current presentation.

That, unfortunately, is where the comparison ends.

Certainly for the first forty minutes of the show, the red flags were definitely flying. Prophetically so. That beach was a definite no-go area!

The last five minutes of the first half were rescued – just – by the talented and likable Andrew Schofield as he and his “lifeguard” partner bungled an attempt to resuscitate the woman they had just dragged from the sea only to jump for joy as the “kiss of life” practice dummy they had brought out for a quick refresher course, was seen to be breathing!

That scene was a moment of masterful comedy and during the break I had high hopes the play would gain some momentum. Sadly, that was to be the only real bit of entertainment in a production that received but a luke-warm reception from the first-night audience.

So where did it all go wrong? Why was it that, in this synagogue of scouse humour, a show starring one of Liverpool’s finest comedy actors should have been such a flop?

The answer lays in the question.  It wasn’t scouse humour, it was Irish humour – acted with bad Irish accents.  I was sat “at the water’s edge” and yet there was much of the dialogue I couldn’t properly comprehend due to the rushed presentation.  Much of the subtle humour was completely lost on me and indeed most of the Royal Court Audience.

Can the show be saved?  Well yes.  Even at this late stage, if they were to drop the Irish accents and set “The Flags” on a Merseyside or Lancashire beach and let Andrew Schofield do what he does best. Let him be scouse. And the rest of the cast too. Then Yes.  The Flags could see out its four week run with some dignity.  It could be done It really could – even at this late stage.  If the directors had the courage to make these few simple changes, they could turn this thing around. And think of the publicity they would receive for making such a brave decision!

As it stands, however, I cannot find it in me to recommend The Flags to anyone.  And that saddens me.  For since I first discovered this magical theatre some eighteen months ago, this is the first time I have come away disappointed.

The Hairy Photographer

(Half scouse, living in North Wales)

Read an edited version of this review on the Liverpool Echo website

That’s all I ask.  Just listen for five minutes and forty seconds.  It’s not much out of a whole lifetime is it?

Put on your headphones or turn up your speakers and go to isaacbirchall.com.

Listen to Dreamer.

Then if you like, listen to Image through my words.  And then Same. And then…  Hell it’s not up to me.  Listen to them all!

Back in the sixties I played the Cavern, the Iron Door and many other of those iconic Merseyside venues, I trod the same boards as the Beatles (sadly not at the same time), the Searchers, Freddie, Jerry, the Big Three,  and all the other big names of the day.

But if I’d had a quarter of the talent of this young man I’d have really gone places.

It was fun while it lasted.

Now it’s his turn.  If you like his music, tell people.

…but listen!

I love first nights.

The fluffed lines; the songs that don’t quite start on cue; the odd microphone that doesn’t work…

On that basis alone, I suppose I should have been disappointed – but I didn’t have time. From the minute the curtain went up, a faultless performance transported me back to the eighties.

Back to the day I fell in love with Irene Cara.

Last night I relived that famous water scene as she flicked her head sending jewel-like back-lit droplets cascading across the stage and then during the dance academy audition scene where in exquisite slow-motion she glided through the air.  Epic movie moments.

Except that last night, at the Liverpool Empire, it was Victoria Hamilton-Barritt who performed the part of Alex  – and I think I just fell in love all over again.

Flashdance the Musical was every bit as good as the film – and I’ve watched that film a good half dozen times over the past twenty five years. Last night the choreography (by Arlene Phillips) was magnificent.  And the songs – I’d forgotten just how many great songs – were  performed perfectly by the vibrant, energetic young cast.

They received a tremendous ovation from from the packed first-night house.

Did I mention I like final-night performances too?

Hmm.  Maybe after publicly declaring my love (albeit stage love) for this 2009 Alex, I doubt Jayne would let me go again!

As well as the beautiful Victoria Hamilton-Barritt, the 20-strong cast is headed up by Berine Nolan, Noel Sullivan (Hear’say) and Bruno Langley (Coronation Street’s Tod Grimshaw).  The show runs at the Liverpool Empire until 31st January before continuing its UK tour.

…and Strawberry Fields Forever

Yes, my lovely wife sure knows how to make an aging would-be (some would say “has-been”) rock star happy.

Seriously. I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday treat (at least not one I could write about here ).

My lady and I drove to the city that I’ve fallen in love with all over again, through Hunt’s Cross, which held so many fond childhood memories, past the John Lennon Airport with it’s huge sign aptly subtitled “above us only sky” and on to Speak. To be specific – Speak Hall – set in its beautifully manicured gardens on the banks of the Mersey.

But today we hadn’t come to partake of this magnificent Tudor mansion’s historical charms. We were a mere stone’s throw from the place that was the birth of the Mersey Sound and we were here to take a magical mystery tour to Penny Lane and Strawberry Fields and to the childhood homes of two of the twentieth century’s most prolific songwriters, name of John and Paul.

We needn’t have arrived early – but I’m glad we did. The tours were running late due to technical problems, so we had time for a nosh in Speak Hall’s restaurant. Nothing posh, but bloody good – and precisely what you’d have been eating in Liverpool during olden times.

The main course choices were Scouse Pie and Pan Haggerty. Being veggies we chose the latter and it was the nicest cheese, onion and potato pie I’ve tasted. The Wet Nelly was a new one to me, a citrus sweet northern version of one of the traditional English bread-based puddings. Hmm delicious. And all washed down with a bottle of Curiosity Cola. Give the National Trust their due… when they take you back in time, they do it in style.

Fully sated we boarded the mini bus to John Lennon’s former home, Mendips, on Menlove Avenue, where an extremely knowledgeable custodian gave us a full and frank potted history of when John met Paul, and how they used to practise their faltering early compositions in the tiny front room. The house had been restored to its former glory after being donated to the trust by Yoko Ono in 2003. When it first opened to the public, Paul McCartney had apparently told the custodian they used to practice singing in the front inner porch because of the fantastic acoustics. We each of us today took the opportunity to follow suit.

Did I mention Sir Paul? Next stop was the McCartney’s childhood home, 20 Forthlin Road, a couple of miles away in a less salubrious area of Allerton. And having joked en-route about expecting Sir Paul to have a nice cup of tea ready for us, I alighted from the mini bus to be greeted by… Paul McCartney!

Okay, after rubbing my eyes and taking a long hard look, I realised it wasn’t actually Sir Paul himself – but I tell you, had John Halliday not been gainfully employed as custodian of 20 Forthlin Road, he could make a very good living as a Beatle look-alike. No only that, he had the same mannerisms and even sounded like his multi-millionaire alter ego.

The former factory worker informed me he still couldn’t believe his luck being paid to live the house of his childhood hero and spend his days talking Beatle talk.

The framed photographs taken by Paul’s younger brother Mike McCartney, vouched for the authenticity of the trust’s restoration program.

Jayne even got to sit upon the former Beatle’s throne, having missed the sign for the new visitor’s toilet on the next outhouse along. When she emerged, to the surprise of one elderly lady queueing for the real toilet, Jayne told her she hoped she hadn’t flushed away any historical …erm …deposits, the poor lady couldn’t stop laughing at the thought and almost wet herself on the spot! She was still giggling as we all got back on the mini bus for the return trip.

It was a lovely day. It brought back fond memories of the time I was an Executioner, tinged with a little regret that I never actually met the Beatles when I played the Cavern, the Iron Door and other landmark venues back in the sixties. Although I didn’t appreciate the significance at the time, I am so glad I lived through that area. Jayne, bless her, missed it of course. She was knocking out a beat with a rattle on the side of her pram in Hyton whilst I was a mile or two down the road rattling the Cavern’s foundations with my bass guitar.

Happy days!

The Beatles tours are run from Speak Hall Wednesday to Sunday and Bank Holidays from April to October,
at 10.00, 10.50, 14.30 and 15.20. Please note there is no direct access to these properties by car or foot. You can book tickets via www.nationaltrust.org.uk/beatles or telephone 0151 427 7231.
Prices (2008): Adult £15.00, Child £3.00, NT Member Adult £7.00

It really is a great day out!

After all that rain yesterday, you’d have expected the rock festival to have been a complete washout.

However, there was no chance of last night’s event ever degenerating into a communal mud bath, because this was the first outdoor festival to be held indoors!

The summer of love has come to Liverpool’s Royal Court Theatre in the form of Jim Cartwright’s play Eight Miles High. The whole theatre was transformed into a farmer’s field. All of the theatre staff – and many of the audience too – were dressed in Caftans and had flowers in their hair. The set was magnificent, with the grassy stage extending right into the auditorium so that those occupying the front rows were actually sitting on the grass, picnic style, as the whole audience effectively became part of the show as festival-goers.

This is a play about the music, the hippies, the free love and flower power of the sixties.

My favourite of the whole evening was the Beatles number “A Day in the Life”. I never did get to know how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall – but at least now I know how many actors it takes to fill the Royal Court.

This extremely talented cast performed a whole raft of iconic numbers from the days of Sargent Pepper, with a good sprinkling of Hendrix, Dylan and the like, thrown in for good measure!

They gelled like a rock band who had been performing together forever. They produced a sound every bit as good as any band I have seen playing live – in fact better than many! Remarkable when you consider they are a bunch of actors brought together a few short weeks ago to rehearse for this play.

They were all great. Paul Broughton (remember Eddie Banks in Brookside) portrayed a very convincing Hell’s Angel. For me though, the star of the show was Royal Court regular Andrew Schofield (pictured) who played the archetype hippy. Yeh! Far-out maaan!

Last night was the first performance of the play’s month-long run. It is a unique experience not to be missed. Do make sure you get to see this show before it ends on August 16th. It is fan-bloody-tastic!

Update: See the last night review in “comments” (below)

I’m not too sure that my lovely wife Jayne would approve but I must admit that under normal circumstances I would quite happily fantasise over the prospect of sharing a sauna with her and Kylie.

Last night was no kinky threesome however. There were at least 18,998 other people crammed in there with us and the “sauna” in question was the much overrated Manchester Evening News Arena.

Sadly, the Kylie X 2008 concert was completely ruined by the venue’s oppressive heat and diabolical sound quality.

Don’t get me wrong, what her lungs produced was pure Kylie – and what they were wrapped in was, of course, as delightful as ever. But oh dear… her much heralded new band sounded like a recently-formed group of teenage wannabes bent on blowing out the windows at their local village hall!

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not averse to loud music per se, but what they delivered last night was a distorted mess that completely drowned out the voice of our diminutive, delectable iconic Aussie heartthrob.

Kylie darling: please sack your sound engineer. We really had no way of telling how good your band was through all the distortion

And my message to the MEN Arena: (definitely NO darling of mine): Sort out your acoustics …and your air-conditioning …and your seating …and your car parking and…

Better still, knock the whole place down and build a proper arena geared more to customer experience than money-grabbing sardine-packing.  And as far as the over-steep upper tiers are concerned, the only customers who might actually enjoy the experience of scaling these would be seasoned rock climbers!

The MEN should take a lead from Liverpool’s excellent new Echo Arena and Glasgow’s equally brilliant SECC.

Biggest doesn’t necessarily mean Best!

EDIT: check out the comments…

Since we discovered Liverpool’s Royal Court Theatre earlier this year, we’ve only seen comedies. We’ve also only ever sat “up in the Gods” – mainly due to booking at the very last minute.

Last night was different. Very different.

This time we were in the stalls of this lovely old theatre, which are set out with tables and chairs in cabaret style. You are escorted to your table (ours was right in front of the stage) by an usherette who took the time to explain how to get to the toilets and the bar. We were really made to feel special.

And the price of all this decadence? – Ten quid!  And if you arrive an hour before curtain-up, you can even enjoy a fine meal prepared by the Royal Court’s head chef Simon Collard – winner of the TMP New Dish For Liverpool.

As for the show itself.  It was the 1987 Stephen King Thriller, Misery.  I must admit, I had doubted a thriller such as this would translate into a stage play.  Boy was I wrong!  The publicity had promised we’d be on the edge of our seats – and they were damn right!

Ex Coronation Street and Early Doors actress Joan Kempson was convincingly psychopathic in the role of the terrifying Annie Wilkes.

Playing opposite her was Andrew Schofield.  Andrew was the archetype scouser in the previous two performances we’d seen at the Royal Court: “Brick up the Mersey Tunnel” and “On the Ledge“.   He was so very funny in both these comedies. 

In “Misery” he is cast in the role of Paul Sheldon, a famous american author, and his performance was nothing short of brilliant.

These two talented actors got a well deserved ovation from the first-night packed house and I can thoroughly recommend it.  Misery runs until July 5th.

A synopsis of the storyline can be found below: more…

We’ve just enjoyed another great night out in Liverpool.

The evening began with a nosh at the Everyman Bistro. Who cares if it’s like sitting in a school canteen – the food was brilliant. Loads of vegetarian choices and lots of gluten-free dishes too. (It truly is the mark of a good, caring, restaurant when they acknowledge the one in fourteen of us who are veggies and the ever growing number who are medically intolerant to wheat). The atmosphere in there was great too. And it was interesting ear-wigging Matthew Kelly and his chums on the next table!

Our theatre tickets, however, were for elsewhere. So we left the Matthews Rixon and Kelly to perform their Endgame at The Everyman and walked back into the city centre.

Alan Bleasdale penned On The Ledge some fifteen years ago, and has rewritten parts of this black comedy for it’s current airing at the Royal Court Theatre.

It is set three stories up more…

Meat Loaf he ain’t

…but Hell, you wouldn’t know! – He’s got the hair, the belly, the look and charisma.

As we drove down to the venue, Jayne remarked “This Hollis guy’s going to have to be good to sound like the real thing”!

She needn’t have worried. Sure, Hollis was a Dead Ringer for Michael Lee Aday (Meat Loaf to you and me) – but most of all he’s got the voice too.

This wasn’t just another tribute band.  This was the Meat Loaf Rock Opera, and as the story unfolded, Hollis, his singers and his band delivered a superb performance from start to finish.

Close your eyes and it WAS  Meat Loaf.  Open them again and you still found it hard to believe that this wasn’t the man himself, delivering song after powerful song from the stage at Rhyl’s Pavilion theatre.

I honestly couldn’t fault it.  The band were brilliant – and kudos to their new bassist who delivered a flawless base line throughout despite this being only his third appearance with the band.  He was really living the dream and he did it effortlessly.  I’ll wager not many of the audience even picked up on the fact he was having to keep one eye on the sheet music as he gave it his all.

Sound quality – so often left wanting at this type of event – was spot on.  The two sound engineers did a great job.

The four girl singers – all from Cornwall – were not just decoration and backing vocals.  Each of them performed solo numbers which proved what talented singers they were.  One of the newest, who played the dippy character Daisy, had a squeaky “little girl” speaking voice and an authentic New York accent.  You found it hard to believe where the sound was coming from when this delightfully diminutive creature belted out “Devil Gate Drive” with such gusto that would have put Suzi Quatro herself to shame. Absolutely brilliant!

Jayne and I came away with our ears ringing, hands stinging and our feet still tapping.

If the Meat Loaf Rock Opera tour includes a venue in your area – don’t miss it!  Hell! If it ISN’T visiting your area – still don’t miss it!

You’ll find the tour dates on their web site:

www.thedeadringerfromhell.co.uk

The last comedy we went to see was Alan Ayckbourne’s Bedroom Farce at  Venue Cymru in Llandudno.  And a farce it was too – but not in the sense the producers intended!  We walked out of the poorly acted production well before half time.

Last night was very different.  It was a last minute decision to go and see Brick up the Mersey Tunnels and boy, are we glad we did!

The only seats left were in the front balcony at Liverpool’s magnificent Royal Court Theatre (a real theatre as opposed to the characterless “boxes” they build today).  The high viewpoint didn’t impair our enjoyment one bit.  The wonderful scouse humour on stage was at times matched by the heckling as the story unfolded about the cultural divide between the Wirral and Liverpool.

Jaws were well and truly aching by the end of the night.  this was a wonderfully wicked comedy.  Catch it if you can.

Some people are easily pleased.

Me for instance. As a birthday treat I was quite content to sit listening to a chubby 60 year old bloke having a sing-song followed by tea in a motorway services.

Only a select few joined me for the tea, but altogether 9,999 other people joined in the community singing. The community was Glasgow, and the aging warbler was Elton John.

When I last saw Captain Fantastic, twenty years ago, he was just that. Back then he justified his standing as a world class rock star – with a live performance every bit as good as on his recordings.

He didn’t have to sing “I’m Still Standing” this weekend. But he did. And he is. In fact I’d go as far as to say that he sounded even better.

“Rocket Man” orbited the Scottish Exhibition and Conference Centre for a good ten minutes and was by far the best rendition of that 1972 rock classic I have ever heard. The extended instrumental segment they belted out at the end of the song was out of this world. Then, just as I’m thinking it’s going to be a long, long time before I hear anything to better it – along came Crocodile Rock.

Just a couple of the numbers were from his recent album and they blended seamlessly with his classics. I would have been disappointed if he’d not played either “Benny and the Jets” or “Saturday Night”. He gave us both.

His band (too small a name for the other five guys on Elton’s stage) produced solid, perfectly balanced wall of sound. Nigel Olson provided the solid drumming which is at the very heart of rock, and scot Davey Johnstone played rock guitar in a way that left you begging for more. The pair have been with Elton since the seventies, so I guess they’re getting the hang of it by now.

The youngsters of today’s music industry don’t even come close.

Fresh talent

However… On the subject of youngsters… Elton invited Glasgow lass Amy McDonald to open the show with five numbers from her soon to be released debut album. Reminiscent of Joan Armatrading and alone on stage with her guitar, she sang effortlessly and beautifully – as she has in the pubs and clubs of her home town for the past couple of years. I guarantee we are going to see and hear a lot more of this wee lassie.

Then at the end of her spot, diminutive on a stage built for one of the world’s greatest, richest and most loved performers, she thanked ten thousand people for listening to her songs and invited us to log on to her “My Space” page to hear more!

Anyone for tea?

We liked Glasgow and its friendly people, but could only linger ‘til mid afternoon on the day after the concert. Then it was the long drive home.

Did I mention Tea? Hunger struck halfway down the M6 so we pulled in to a Motorway Services. But what we discovered was in fact the Best Motorway Services – in the World!!

I absolutely mean it. If ever you are on the M6 you MUST call in at the Tebay Services. In fact, just go up (or down) the M6 especially to visit. Forget the over priced greasy mess usually found in these places. This was fast food at its best. – freshly cooked on the premises. Really, really good. And, under the same management, a fantastic farm shop/delicatessen and gift shop.

All in all it was a great weekend.

http://www.westmorland.com/static/Tebay_Services.htm

http://www.myspace.com/amymacdonald