Paul Allen, Mark Herman
Octagon Theatre Bolton; Theatre by the Lake, Stephen Joseph Theatre
Octagon Theatre, Bolton
September 5-28, 2024; 2hr 30min
They say that West Side Story is difficult to cast because of the combination of quality performance skills demanded of each actor. So Brassed Off must be an absolute bugger.
It’s 1994, 10 years after the miners' strike, and Gloria Mullins has returned to her home town of Grimley, Yorkshire, to assess the viability of the pit. Her optimism is outweighed by the fear and anger of the jaded miners, still feeling the effect of the year-long strike, poverty, debt and hopelessness.
But then, there’s always t’band. If Danny the stalwart conductor is to be believed, long after the last ton of coal has been mined, and long after the last pit closure, there will still be music. At times it’s a contentious ideal among those on the breadline, and a frail hope; but it’s also true. And this kind of music is a true community effort, brought to life by an amazing cast and some dedicated local musicians, from Wingates and Eagley bands.
The magic of the movies meant Tara Fitzgerald’s Gloria could walk into a band room looking like she could pull a flugelhorn solo out of thin air. The magic of theatre requires Hannah Woodward to do it for real.
And magic it is. Audience members for this production, (the show opened at Theatre by the Lake in Keswick in July, and played Stephen Joseph Theatre in Scarborough in August before this venue), are likely to be not-uncritical of mediocre playing, so it has to stand up. And it really does.
Woodward gives us a truly beautiful Nessun Dorma ("None Shall Sleep" being a fair description of the community's employment anxieties). In the movie they used Rodrigo’s "Concerto d’Orange Juice", which gave us a good gag and cinematic pathos, but might have been trickier to pull off without a full drum kit.
Joey Hickman as Phil, unfathomably multi-skilled, gives us dark and gritty hopelessness in the locker room, and moments of sheer dramatic musical genius, clowning musically with trombone. But for anyone in the know, his sound is sheer quality. And Barney Taylor as Andy not only has to be proficient on the tenor horn, but has to lose it in a bet and sing his part to Danny Boy, as the band plays for its poorly conductor in the second act by the light of their miner’s headlamps outside his hospital window. It’s a magic moment, and Taylor shows his colours as a stunning actor and a true musician.
There are aspects of a community fairy tale here: some magical contesting in Yorkshire and a trip to the Albert Hall. But director Liz Stevenson (a local lass) has also darkened the drama somewhat. The piece is bookended by a narrative from little Shane, played here by grown-up Andrew Turner – indicating an unknown outcome for the miners of Grimley and the community. What would become of little Shane? As he asks of his dad and grandad at the end of the show; who will catch him when he falls? Will there be anyone left? It’s a nice device, reminiscent perhaps of Mickey from Blood Brothers - an adult playing a child, foreshadowing a future that is uncertain for the characters, but which we in the north of England already know.
If I was being picky, I’d say that all these years later, some of the sexist jokes aren’t quite as funny; musically "Nessun Dorma" could be tighter on the ensemble, and at times the tempo in William Tell got away from them. But that’s one for the brass band purists. The musical theatricality can’t be faulted.
Brassed Off is a story about our towns and communities, told now in retrospect but still a relevant social comment on our world. In an age of increasing individualism, music and theatre still give us – the audience – an irreplaceable experience of community.
For anyone who loves brass band music, loves theatre and hates the Tory party, beg, steal or borrow a ticket for this show (and they’re going fast). It's unique, bitter-sweet, and an absolute must-see.
More info and tickets here
