Kneehigh never fail to impress, and Wagstaffe was no different. This was a highly physical performance, slickly directed and ever so slightly rude. The cast of three epitomised the best of ensemble theatre, with their perfectly choreographed storytelling and direct audience relationship. They drove the narrative, filled the space with physical virtuosity, and let the comedy run riot. The story of Wagstaffe For those not familiar with the children's book, it follows the hilariously dark tale of a boy whose life is turned upside down when, after being squashed by a lorry, he is fixed and largely replaced with metal parts. A giant key sticks out of his back and there are a number of other surprises. For example, his number twos are deposited on a tray (which can be conveniently removed and reinserted), and his number ones are performed through his index finger. The tale is packed with colourful language from the mouths of wickedly sketched characters who help Wagstaffe on a quest to save his parents from a certain, yet lucrative, death. That young Wagstaffe Williams would even consider saving his parents is a shock to the reader, as Mr and Mrs Wagstaffe were abominably cruel to our young hero. One Tuesday morning, they even ran away to join the circus, leaving only a note to remind their son to clean the toilet. I grew up with this book as a young primary school lad in shorts and grass-stained jumpers, reading and re-reading it from cover to cover, much to my teacher's dismay. How I leapt with delight, when I noticed it was going to receive the Kneehigh treatment. A cast of three Making up the trio were Bec Applebee, who played Dr Dhondy, Mandy Badsox and Sharon Williams (Wagstaffe's mum); Carl Grose, who played Wagstaffe; and Simon Harvey, who played everyone else. The opening quarter of the play was set in a hospital ward. Who would have expected to be taken around the world, along the A30, to Niagara Falls? These three had it all in hand. Applebee and Harvey were both strong and adaptable, combining playfulness with strict choreography. Grose was purely brilliant. At times he looked like Kneehigh's answer to Jack Black, rock and roll personified through the character of a wicked little child. The controlled discipline required to play a robotic character is demanding, yet other than the beads of sweat cascading from his brow, you wouldn't have thought it bothered him. If ever one wants to learn a lesson on how to involve an audience in live theatre, let Kneehigh teach you. They are experts at this tricky device. Grose used the audience to full effect, asking our advice, throwing us quizzical looks every so often, and brilliantly acting as conductor in leading a full-house rendition of Celebrate by Casey and the Sunshine Band. A wonderful finale Working on a stage that was as small as small could be, the actors amazed in their ability to turn the performance area into a whole world, with just a metal table and a hospital screen on wheels. Simple props and simple costume signifiers defined each different character, and highlighted the skill which Kneehigh champion. A wonderful finale involved Wagstaffe, standing on the wheeled table, slowly moving backwards as the lights faded and rock music filled the space. It raised the hairs on my neck and no doubt the other members of the packed audience. A special mention must go to the Stage and Technical Manager, Jack Morrison. Impeccable timing in lighting and sound cues were overshadowed by his portrayal of The Postman, a feat which earned the biggest cheer of the night. |