Blood Brothers

There is such a vast difference between dour British musicals and the fabulous Broadway creature that it may seem there is no common ancestry. The last vestiges of glitter and sparkle (what little there was to begin with) have been eliminated in this pared-back-to-the-bone production from Manilla Street Productions and director Chris Parker. It’s sparse, and stark – without embellishment, and you find yourself assessing the purity of the piece, aided by a stunningly talented cast.

Willy Russell is a marvellous playwright, but he isn’t, by any stretch of the imagination, a great composer or lyricist (more of that later). No-one understands character better, or has such empathy. Particularly brilliant with female and juvenile roles, he creates characters so heart-achingly real that we feel we have known them all our lives. It’s the brilliance of the drama that Parker concentrates on, and it works beautifully. What doesn’t work as well is the music itself, despite some great voices and an excellent band headed by Andrew Patterson. Much of it is banal – though I’ll concede that is appropriate to life in Liverpool in the sixties. Some of it is hummable for a few bars, but much is lyrically repetitive and musically derivative… and there are repeats of songs that weren’t that good the first time round (the somewhat kitsch Marilyn Monroe which we get to hear three times, plus one other reprise). The music quality (or lack thereof) is more noticeable because Parker has, quite brilliantly in some instances -  unsuccessfully in others, removed everything around the songs that could distract or pull focus.

Get past that (and it’s Russell’s failure, not the production’s), and there are some wonderful things to marvel at, as you would expect from Manilla Street and Parker, who have set the bar so high for themselves in the past. Whilst expecting the amazing Chelsea Plumley to steal the show I was, instead, gobsmacked by Gareth Keegan’s performance as Mickey….the twin unaware that his brother was given away to a rich family. He inhabited Mickey’s hopeless, helpless character with a truth that was painful to watch. His “scouse” accent never wavered for a second, his understanding of the 7 year old Mickey is a credit to him and Parker for the work they’ve put in. The one thing missing was a second act number to showcase that glorious voice….I’m sure Willy would have written one if he’d had the chance to meet Keegan. Quite simply (and I have said it before) Keegan is a star, more than capable of playing any leading man role once his fresh-faced looks grow into his very mature talent. But as an actor alone he found great depth, especially in the prison and immediately after when he tries to rebuild his life without drugs. Marvellous work indeed.

Parker has found in Chelsea Plumley, fabulous performer that she is, a softer version of Mrs Johnstone that gives us more insight, more dimension, into the hard woman with “A heart of stone”, and a journey we can empathise with. I would have liked to see more of her face in “Tell Me It’s Not True” but it’s a director’s choice and a matter of personal taste as to whether a leading lady should sing her one great song on her knees facing upstage with her back to the audience and her hair covering her face. It didn’t work for me personally, but I applaud the bravery of the decision. I have cried during that song (and indeed Ms Plumley did too) at other productions, but myself and those around me were dry-eyed last night.

Matthew Bradford is excellent as Eddie, a wonderful contrast to Keegan’s Mickey in the Nature/Nurture argument. It’s a beautifully measured performance. Lisa Marie Parker, a true triple threat, is a delight to watch in every phase of Linda’s aging. Again, it is faultless realisation of a role which could easily be swamped by the story of the twins. Glaston Toft is a charismatic Sammy and Simon Wilton excels in several character roles, but his performance as the narrator (more David Bowie than David Soul) seems too flamboyant for this sparse production. The ensemble do excellent work throughout. The iconic (from her TV days) Glenda Linscott, as Mrs Hayes, and Peter Hardy as her husband, bring gravitas to the production, but fare less well in roles which are underwritten and less interesting, thus giving them less to commit to. Russell’s interest is in the underclass, the downtrodden, the little man….not the fat cats on the hill.

Special Mention of Scott Allan’s beautiful lighting design, integral to every moment of the show. Blood Brothers tends to divide audiences. Depending on your taste, you will either love it or hate it; it’s not a show you can be ambivalent about. Don’t go expecting Grease or Wicked, you’ll be disappointed. Instead, open your mind and marvel at something which may redefine your opinion of Music Theatre.

Coral Drouyn

Photographer: Chris Parker.

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