REVIEW: Anton and Giovanni: Together


Rating: 3 out of 5.

A strong supporting company deliver dance and musical excellence, while Anton & Giovanni fall a bit flat.


 As a lifetime fan of Strictly Come Dancing, I was excited about seeing two of its most beloved stars, Anton Du Beke and Giovanni Pernice, live with “more fun, more dance, more song, and even more entertainment.” However, admittedly, my first reaction when I heard about the show, was confusion at the slightly random-seeming pairing; two cast members that are seldom seen interacting on the programme. I hoped that perhaps there would be an explanation on what had brought the professional dancer, and dancer turned judge together for this tour, or that they would have such wonderful chemistry that it wouldn’t matter. But neither of these things really happened.

The evening ran like a showcase, with a series of song and dance performances happening in no particular order, and with no kind of theme or line of cohesivity. For these performances, Anton and Giovanni were joined (and often replaced) onstage by a six person cast of dancers and singers, who, unfortunately, largely showed them up. Two standouts were, Michelle Andrews, who delivered astoundingly powerful lead vocals. And Lauren Oakley, another familiar Strictly Come Dancing face, whose energy, expression and dancing were on another level. Oakley also surprised the audience with a strong singing voice, and gave one of the most impressive performances of the night; a full, fast, perfectly executed jive to Abba’s Waterloo, while also singing the lead vocals. 

In what came across as a slightly lazy attempt to pull focus back to the show’s stars, the musical numbers were interspersed with a variety of skit style talking sections between Anton and Giovanni. This was where the show started to lose its sparkle. There were jokes that landed and funny moments that were well received, such as humour based on Giovanni’s thick Italian accent, however these would be overdone until they got a bit old, and the talking sections very quickly started to drag on and feel laboured. I also felt like the chemistry between Anton and Giovanni wasn’t the most natural, and they didn’t bounce off of each other well enough to effectively carry all of these skit moments.

On a more positive note, the music featured in the show was very well selected and greatly appealed to the audience. There were a variety of musical theatre classics, old school favourites, and even a fun Eurovision medley. So truly something for everyone. The songs were flawlessly sung, and brilliantly played by the onstage band. 

Overall, “Anton and Giovanni: Together” delivered on its promise to entertain. Amazing dancing, iconic music, and two famous faces meant that it was far from a wasted night at the theatre, even though I felt that more thought and effort could have been put into Anton and Giovanni’s parts in the show. I loved that the format gave lesser known, but, dare I say, stronger talents an opportunity to shine. Yet, I felt that a title such as “Anton and Giovanni present…” or “Anton and Giovanni and friends” might have been a more fitting way to describe the performance, and would have prevented me from feeling slightly mis-sold. However, despite my disappointment with certain elements of the show, there were many middle-aged women leaving the theatre absolutely tickled pink, so what do I know?!

REVIEW: When Mountains Meet


Rating: 3 out of 5.

An enjoyable celebration of two beautiful cultures.


When Mountains Meet tells the story of Scottish musician Anne Wood, and her turbulent journey to South-Asia to become reacquainted with her long-lost father. The production combines traditional music, storytelling and striking visuals, to create a unique, immersive and colourful experience that brings together the mountains of the Scottish Highlands and the Himalayas. The production was written, composed and musical directed by Anne herself, and she appears in the show, heading the band on the violin.

Rather than a more traditional theatre set-up, the audience were seated at round tables, with Anne and the band on a small, raised platform, and the storytellers on the floor and moving through the audience. I thought that this served the production well as it created immersion and made the performance quite intimate. The tables were all beautifully set with Pakistani kahwa tea, and pieces of laddoo, which we were invited to try at certain points of the show. I thought that this was a really lovely touch which worked well to further our immersion into the South-Asian culture that the show was celebrating.

The medium of storytelling, having a younger Anne playing the protagonist in the story, and present-day Anne leading the band and offering sprinklings of hindsight throughout the show, was very effective. It really felt like we were seeing Anne’s story through her eyes, and the two versions worked well to connect the actors on the floor and the musicians on the stage. 

The star of the show is undoubtably the music. Highland music and Gaelic-language songs blended seamlessly with South-Asian influences, creating a unique, interesting and quite spectacular score. Anne is a really great performer, and you could feel the music coming from her heart as she played. The other members of the band are also excellent.

While the show had moments of visual and musical brilliance, I felt that the story itself could have had more depth to it. It did take us on a lovely journey, exploring the connections between people and places, pondering what it means to belong somewhere, and highlighting cultural differences, but the narrative felt, at times, rather surface level, mechanical and like it was telling rather than showing. I just kept finding myself wanting a bit more. However, the show’s running time was not long over one hour, and I understand that a running time this short creates limitations on how much can be achieved. Perhaps the story would work better in a longer show.

In saying that, the production does deserve to be commended for taking us on a full-circle journey, showcasing some great music, incorporating unique moments of audience involvement, and overall, being an enjoyable celebration of two beautiful cultures. It definitely had its charm, and I understand why it would appeal to many people. 

You can catch this production on its upcoming Scottish tour, with performances in Shetland, Aberdeen, Ullapool, Stirling, Crieff, Glasgow, Castle Douglas, Melrose and Paisley.

REVIEW: Listen to the Forest

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

A beautiful, thoughtfully crafted artistic performance exploring the beauty and wisdom of nature and the value of life

Listen to the Forest, the first onstage work of creator and choreographer Valeria Levi, promises to be “an experimental dance performance blending movement together with spoken word, music and BSL,” and “a space to explore our capacity of feeling and empathy for other life-forms through our connection with breathing.” An explanation that perfectly describes and sells this production. 

From the moment that we walked into the theatre; an atmosphere was created. Pinecones and branches covered some of the chairs, white-noise style music played, and the dancers were lying down “breathing” on the stage. It felt like walking into a story, rather than sitting down to see a show, which worked perfectly with the idea of “the forest.” The way that everything tied together – the decoration of the theatre, the lichen-covered instruments, the simple stage set-up of a few trees and wooden blocks, the eerie music mimicking the rhythm of breathing – was very satisfying, and it was easy to tell how much thought and care had gone into each meticulous detail of the production. 

The performance itself was no exception. It was predominantly an expressive dance piece, with two dancers representing “life-forms” of the forest, and another performer playing the instruments. The choreography was amazing and absolutely visually beautiful. A balance was struck between soft, fluid, water-like/wind-like movement to slow, haunting music or silence, and more intense, erratic, discordant moments. There were times when the two dancers interact to depict harmony, and times when they appear to be at odds and cause the near deaths of each other. Simple yet effective prop usage also furthers the effectiveness of the piece’s ability to capture the different states and personalities of nature, what happens when it is left to exist peacefully, and what happens when it is pushed too far. The interlacing of each artistic element works well, with Gaelic song, rain sticks, and the continuous motif of breathing further enriching the viewing experience.

A compelling spoken word portion, including powerful lines like “you keep pulling me, pushing me” and, “you’re not listening to me anymore, give me space to breathe” also ties in the themes of environmental protection and climate change, and gives the piece a deeper, more moving quality. 

Well-executed hybrid pieces like this one are important as they highlight the creative possibilities of dance, music, and spoken word and the power of weaving them together, all while diversifying live theatre, and making it more naturally accessible. It was particularly lovely seeing a show that wasn’t just BSL-interpreted, but that had BSL at the heart of its expression. This production, which thrives on its craftsmanship, artistry, thought and attention to detail, also especially shows how you don’t always need frills and fanciness to create something powerful. 

I would say that small refinements could be made to the spoken word portion of the piece. Most of the lines were poignant and powerful, but there were some that didn’t make as much sense as others, and moments where the meaning and address was unclear. However, the artistry of the performance as a whole was stunning. I’m excited to see it to return to Edinburgh for an official premiere, and recommend it to anyone who appreciates dance, spoken word, nature, or who just wants to see something lovely and a bit different. 

REVIEW: Rob Brydon: A Night of Songs and Laughter


Rating: 4 out of 5.

“Rob Brydon is fully deserving of the title “world-class entertainer.” We were promised a night of music and laughter and that is exactly what we got!”


Before seeing this show, I admittedly only knew Rob Brydon as Uncle Bryn from Gavin & Stacey, so I was intrigued and excited, if a little bemused, about the premise of seeing him onstage singing a range of Tom Jones, Elvis and Guys and Dolls covers. Upon arriving at the theatre, it was also impossible not to notice that I was definitely the youngest audience member there by … a lot. But I tried not to let any of these things faze me as I took my seat.

The band, led by Brydon’s musical director Paul Herbert, appeared first, in a simple yet lovely set-up all around the stage. They were colourfully dressed and all looked genuinely happy to be there, which definitely helped to build a nice atmosphere. Then Rob came on to rapturous applause. He introduced the show, with a few funny quips about Edinburgh (“I mean it’s not Glasgow, but it’s nice.”) and announced that the show would be “the story of my life illustrated with songs.”

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Musical director Paul Herbert. Image provided by Capital Theatres.

Brydon’s stage presence and singing were wonderful. He did justice to every single one of his iconic song choices and proved that he is fully deserving of the title “world-class entertainer.” His performances of Tom Jones’ ‘Delilah’, The Beatles’ ‘Hey Jude’ and Uncle Bryn classic ‘Islands in the Stream’ (performed in character!) were particular crowd pleasers. Funny and endearing anecdotes from his life including his first kiss aged 14, and consistent rejections from drama school as a teenager added a lovely personal touch, and a variety of well-interspersed celebrity impressions had the audience rolling with laughter.

However, it is Brydon’s flawless ability to interact with and take the mick out of the audience that is arguably the highlight of the show. He is razor-sharp and hilarious, starting the night with a series of jokes about the age demographic (“I was in Barbie, in a desperate attempt to appeal to a younger demographic, clearly, it has not worked.”) and making running gags out of several audience members, which were so great and casually thrown in, that it was almost impossible to believe that they were improvised. He even had an audience member up onstage at one point to play the glockenspiel in his band, which served as a great example of how sometimes the simplest, silliest things can be the funniest. 

If I had to criticise one thing, I felt like at times the concept wavered a bit. It started out as Brydon performing songs that represented parts of his life, but started to trickle down into random anecdotes, “I like this play” or “sometimes I like to sing the lyrics of one song to the tune of another” (leading to an impressive performance of the Spiderman lyrics to the tune of ‘Bring Him Home’ from Les Miserables, which frankly I am not complaining about). However, this didn’t detract one bit from the fun and entertainment of the evening. I also don’t think that anybody in the audience was bothered about seeing a slick, perfect, meticulously put together, life-changing production; we were promised a night of music and laughter with Rob Brydon, and that’s exactly what we got! 

REVIEW: The Snow Queen


Rating: 5 out of 5.

A phenomenal adaptation of the much-loved classic. Incredible character acting, beautiful design, comedic brilliance, and a distinct Scottish flavour. A must-see for Edinburgh folk!

In the days before I saw The Snow Queen, I tried to work out what to expect from this brand-new production. A dark, gothic adaptation of the Hans Christian Andersen classic? A family-friendly Frozen-esque musical experience? The chillingly artistic poster design suggested the former, but the hordes of ballgown-clad children clutching pink unicorn toys waiting excitedly in the audience, the latter. As the show began, an eerie folk chorus of male voices also felt reminiscent of Frozen.

The production, adapted by Morna Young, directed by Cora Bisset, and intended to have a distinctly Scottish flavour, is set in Victorian Edinburgh. It tells the story of best friends Kei and Gerda, and the good Goddess of Winter turned evil Snow Queen, who is on a quest to defeat the Goddess of Spring and bring eternal winter. To do so, she must find and vanquish the five humans that hold the seeds of spring. Believing Kei is one of these carriers, The Snow Queen captures him, prompting Gerda to race to his, and the world’s, rescue. 

The cast as a collective, were fantastic. Many actors played multiple roles throughout the show, beautifully fleshing out the story world, and bringing a never-ending stream of entertainment through a variety of kooky personalities. The transitions were seamless, and every actor felt perfectly cast for each role that they took on. 

Standout performances came from Richard Conlon as Hamish the Unicorn, a hilariously flamboyant pink “horny horse” who appeared halfway through the story and brought with him the show’s biggest earworm (“He’s a Horse with a Horn”) and some of the best one-liners. Naomi Stirrat, who was memorable as Senga, an unhinged yet very amusing fighting expert that Gerda encounters on her way. And Samuel Pashby’s Corby, a bashful crow with split loyalties between The Snow Queen and Gerda, is also great. His physical comedy and spot-on birdlike mannerisms are subtle brilliance. Plus Wendy Seager and Antony Strachan are hilariously realistic and wonderfully endearing as Kei and Gerda’s respective grandparents.
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L-R: Samuel Pashby as Corby, Richard Conlon as Hamish the Unicorn, and Rosie Graham as Gerda. Costume and set design by Emily James. Image by Jess Shurte.

It is also necessary to commend Emily James’ stunning costume and set design. The sets were consistently visually beautiful, and spectacularly brought to life Victorian Edinburgh, complete with prop versions of Edinburgh Castle, and the fountain of Princes Street Gardens. A plethora of props were creatively used to immerse the audience in the rest of the depicted locations, including confetti and a smoke machine which perfectly simulated the snowstorms of Northern Scotland in winter. The costuming was equally gorgeous, and instrumental in the characterisation of each character.

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The cast of The Snow Queen at The Royal Lyceum Theatre. Costume and set design by Emily James. Image by Jess Shurte.

While undeniably fun and playful, I’m not so sure that this was the kids production that many expected it to be. It would depend on the age and maturity level of the child, and the discretion of the parents. There was a LOT of innuendo, potentially scary moments, explicit acting-out of torture, and an entire song revolving around the line “he’s a horse with a horn.”

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Claire Dargo as The Snow Queen. Costume and set design by Emily James. Image by Jess Shurte.

It is difficult to say whether this adaptation of The Snow Queen could have a life outside of Scotland. The superb acting, fantastic original music, brilliant writing, and fabulous costume and set design could all more than hold their own on the West End, however I felt that many of the jokes and references present throughout rely heavily on there being a Scottish audience. Every character also spoke in a thick accent, with constant use of Scots language and slang, which may make the story difficult to follow for people from elsewhere. You could hear a few non-Scots in the audience expressing confusion at moments that prompted uproarious laughter and struggling to understand parts of the dialogue. But to erase these things would be to erase the very essence of the show.

Overall, The Snow Queen was a brilliant and thoroughly entertaining production and is an absolute must-see for all Edinburgh folk this Christmas!

REVIEW: Dead Dad Dog

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A witty, down-to-earth, and enjoyable production, brought to life by fiercely likeable characters and a distinctly Scottish sense of humour

Scottish playwright John McKay’s renowned comedy, which originally premiered in 1988, is back at its birthplace, Edinburgh’s Traverse Theatre, for a strictly limited run until November 4th. Directed by Liz Carruthers, the much-loved play follows Alexander “Eck” Dundee, a young, Scottish aspiring BBC producer trying to make his way in the hip cultural scene of the 80’s, as he is plagued by the ghostly reincarnation of his long-dead father on the day of an important job interview and big date.

Angus Miller is dynamic and charming as Eck. He plays his character with an endearing awkwardness that I’m sure many audience members will find relatable, navigates the different facets of Eck’s personality well, and is convincing and funny in his line delivery. But for me, the standout performance came from Liam Brennan as Eck’s father William “Wullie” Dundee. From the second he steps onstage, straight-faced, and thoroughly underwhelmed about his being a ghost, remarking that heaven is “fine,” he is hilarious. His terrible dad jokes, random everyday musings about cheese and football, and tendency to just butt into conversations with little self-awareness and even less tact, make him the father/grandfather figure we all recognise from our own lives, and love. 

However, it’s worth noting that neither character would have gotten all of the laughs that they did without the interactions, set up’s and reactions of the other. Miller and Brennan bounce off of each other superbly, and use their palpable chemistry, great energy, and skilful physical comedy to not only bring their characters to life, but also to make a simple set design and minimal props feel like a fully conceived world. Aside from the actors, the only other things present on stage are a single chair, and a backdrop on which words periodically appear, and yet the stage never feels empty; the mark of fantastic performers who can effortlessly carry a story without relying on anything elaborate. 

It is refreshing to see a play centred exclusively on a father-son relationship, and nice to see closeness and emotion normalised within it. There are subtly touching moments where a young Eck is comforted by his father and they bond over songs they used to sing together, allowing the timeless and universal themes of family, masculinity, and acceptance to poignantly underpin the story. A deeper exploration of grief and how Eck reacted to and dealt with the loss of his father at the time could have added more layers and resonance, and a more concrete explanation behind Wullie’s return could have made the ending slightly more satisfying, but despite this, the show is still immensely funny, endearing and a more than worthwhile watch. 

Complete with a nostalgic 80’s playlist (curated to perfection by sound designer Julian Starr) featuring hits from Simple Minds, the Eurythmics and Soft Cell, and “Earth, wind & fire meets Sydney Devine” fashion choices, McKay’s play is an undeniable product of its era, but in the best possible way, and it does manage to stand the test of time. Overall, Dead Dad Dog is a witty, down-to-earth (apart from the whole ghost thing), and enjoyable production, brought to life by fiercely likeable characters and a distinctly Scottish sense of humour. I thoroughly recommend going to see it if you have the chance!