A REVIEW BY GABRIELLE MARIE

Since the age of six, Chris Cox has been under the spell of magic. Now, eighteen years on from the dawn of the Paul Daniels magic set, Chris brings us his award winning Edinburgh Fringe Festival show: Control Freak. The entertaining mind reader who can't read minds brought his production to the Southbank Centre for his last tour date of 2008.

 

A tone of intrigue had been planted. As we entered the room we were greeted with the invitation to write down any word from the English language, and then drop it into the bowl that lay in wait on stage. I take my seat, and ponder whether the wide-eyed Chris Cox from the show-reel on stage will bring us a brand of Derren Brown style mind control, or Tommy Cooper tomfoolery. I hope for more of the latter, as my seat is still too close to the stage and I'm in no hurry to hear the words '...now look into my eyes'.

 

While we wait, our senses are titillated by the familiar sound of well known signature tunes, from classic films such as Jaws, Back to the Future, and even the unmistakable Pearl & Dean jingle (freshly squeezed from any pre-movie cinema experience). We were offered blink-and-you'll-miss-it snapshots of the superstar-famous such as George Lucas, Cameron Diaz and Paul Daniels! Other subliminal images that flashed onto our retina were of popcorn and the words 'listen and learn'. So...I do.

 

With bums firmly in virtually every seat, the magic was ready to be released. As the film roles on screen, none other than Keith Chegwin, (yes, that's right,) pops into view to deliver a sprightly introduction to the man they call Cox.

 

A lithe figure leaps from behind the curtain. We meet Chris, who promptly engages us with his upbeat likeability and a toy ferret, (that is later christened as Freddie, through a series of random choices). No time is wasted in selecting unsuspecting volunteers by means of launching said ferret into the sea of metropolitans who harbour in this Thames-side audience. (The lucky person to catch the ferret selects someone else to join our magical mind reader onstage). A battalion of impressive tricks flow freely involving a hybrid mix of magic, NLP (Neuro Linguistic Programming), reading of body language, and psychology to prove he's a mind reader who can't read minds.

 

Mr Cox recounts a personal story, which relays the message that when a course of events are altered, this can lead to a different set of consequences. We are challenged to consider if we have free choice and free will, and the possibility that our actions are shaped by other factors. Chris reminds us that "our ability to make decisions makes us unique".

 

This moral threads though an intricate show that is guided by the lightning speed mind of the accomplished producer. What we may not know at first glance is that Chris has gained striking experience in the realm of entertainment production, working with luminaries such as Chris Moyles and Russell Brand.

 

Chris ends the show with a spectacular DVD finale that ties together a complex series of events. We watch as the revelations unfold like a Poirot mystery conclusion.

 

Amazed and entertained, we applaud the mind-maestro, who is now circling the stage with a victory lap while sporting a shimmering cape. I collect my tongue-in-cheek 'I heart Cox' badge from the man himself after the show, and leave under the spell of this generous performer.

 

Some people seem to have an innate understanding of Shakespeare.  They laugh in all the right places and smile knowingly at witty turns of phrase; they effortlessly follow the dense language and looping plotlines, the compulsory disguises, cross-dressings and multiple identities.  Two Gentlemen of Verona isn't renowned as Shakespeare at the height of his intricacy - it is one of his earlier and less mature plays - but all of the above are present and correct, ready to confound anyone in the audience who isn't suitably schooled in high culture.  

So far so Shakespeare.  Except in this new production at Lambeth's Oval House, the play has been renamed Vakomana Vaviri Ve Zimbabwe, and all fifteen parts are played solely by two young Zimbabweans in South African township style.  The set is a small, sparse black-painted room with just an oversized suitcase and a few items of clothing as props.  No ruffs or elaborate backdrops here.

At first glance this hardly seems likely to enhance comprehension of the play.  The fact that the scenery occasionally changes in conventional theatre has always been a useful hint to the audience that the actors are now performing in a new location.  And it is surely only sensible to have one actor playing one role at a time.  Unexcitingly traditional it may be, but theatrical convention does  at least give audiences some threads to follow through all the gender-swapping wordplay.     

Sure enough, director Arne Pohlmeier's township-style production must have had some confusing moments even for aficionados.  Characters sprang in and out of the action with no more than the change of a jacket or the addition of a headscarf.  But I've always found that mild confusion is part of the appeal of Shakespeare, whose plays are so tightly packed with poetic wit that they warrant seeing many times over until they reveal all their workings.  

And any difficulty in following the details of the plot here are swept aside by the sheer vitality of the performance.  The production's self-imposed limitations have catalysed the creativity of the director and the two actors Denton Chikura and Tonderai Munyevu, who pull off their role-metamorphoses with energy and insight.  To transform themselves every few minutes they use a combination of simple, well-chosen props and pure acting - fluid swapping of accents, expressions and mannerisms that are by and large spot-on.  

In the tiny upstairs theatre at the Oval House there is no separation between actors and audience, and seeing Chikura and Munyevi's interpretations of character at close range is one of the greatest pleasures of the evening.  With nowhere to hide, they pour themselves into every subtlety of expression.  Soft-spoken Munyevu is mercurial and at times slightly menacing, while the more blokeish Chikura is a skillful clown and slips with surprising ease into his female persona as Julia.  

It is clearly hard work keeping up this fast-paced performance, but it is never less than captivatingly enjoyable - the audience are in on the pantomime as well, exchanging glances with the actors and occasionally recruited as extra cast members.  No doubt there are parts of Pohlmeier's Two Gents that don't quite hit the right note, and many that might raise eyebrows amongst Shakesperian purists, but here is a young team whose self-imposed minimalism has produced raw and enlivening theatre.
 

In a word, the Liquid Liquid gig at the Barbican was exceptional.

It was the first reformed gig since the 80's and started off the three-date weekend celebrating Domino Records' Crystal anniversary.  That's 15 years of putting out blinding records, and the May release of Liquid Liquid's previous eps, plus unreleased tracks in 'Slip In And Out Of Phenomenon' is a good milestone for sure.

 

Considering the four piece funk/punk/percussion/bass band from Manhattan haven't really played in around 25 years, it was a little surprising to see some empty seats.

I guess a few, like me, had been stuck on a bus for the early part of the evening and were busy getting a pint in.  Or perhaps some of those original fans were busy writing and performing their own sounds.  The influence of Liquid Liquid who existed for only three years at the beginning of the 1980's, has been strong.

 

If you know anything about them, you probably know that Grandmaster Flash used Cavern's outstanding bass line in the classic hit 'White Lines'.  You may also be aware that LCD Soundsystem and Hot Chip cite them in their inspirations. Witnessing these guys perform live with a long list of percussion instruments was like listening to a blue print for so many bands doing good stuff right now.  And they were doing it over two and a half decades ago.

 

I've got to be honest, for me it was a slow starting event.  I missed Canadian support act The Junior Boys' warm up so it took a few tunes to get off the bus and into the sounds of the night.  Only a few though, then it was pure rhythmic, audio percussive pleasures for the evening ahead. 

 

They played lots, they played well, and they played as if they hadn't stopped playing together for any time at all.  A furiously energetic performance from Dennis Young on the Marimba, the cymbals, the toms, and more led to a few wooden keys and a cymbal flying.  He laughed it off and carried on with the show, with Scott Hartley keeping the pace and the mood on the drums. In their early gigs the band welcomed audience members bringing their own bits, and to hit the wooden surface in front of the circle's front row was a tempting surface to beat.  The audience were given quality stuff sent from the stage and returned the love by dancing in the aisles.  More and more limbs were up and going for it with every tune. 

 

Richard McGuire on bass started the incredible rendition of 'Cavern'.  We got up, we went for it , we just about thought it was over, the percussion petered out to a smattering of low and high end beats and then... be de be de be de be de be da, right back on it for the almost euphoric crowd.

 

The last tune 'Optimo' gave vocalist Sal Principato the chance to remind us not only that the gig was over and that one was a great way to end it, but also that the party was not yet done.  Some DJs from Glasgow were going to be leading us all to the next room where we could have a proper dance.  The sound of Liquid Liquid made such an impact in their day that this duo of selectors, had named themselves after that one tune and were closing the night.  He invited us to join him and the band in the foyer, but then they agreed to play a new chaotic minute's worth of percussive banter.  A short and sweet end to their stage show.  It must have been a blast when the Optimo DJs selected 'Optimo' again for the crowd.  It went down a storm.