MORECAMBE
PLAYWRIGHT: Tim Whitnall
DIRECTOR: Alan Swerdlow
PERFORMER: Craig Urbani
VENUE: The Studio, Montecasino
UNTIL: June 7
RATING: ****
Morecambe is more English than tea and cucumber sandwiches, and at least as old fashioned as Royal Doulton. But don’t let that for one moment put you off. It’s a real hoot in which the critical nuance towards that word is of no consequence.
This one-man play by Tim Whitnall is far more challenging than the cliché description “tour de force” can ever imply.
The reason is simple: Whitnall wrote an energetic biography with a multitude of characters of a comedian’s life journey from his earliest childhood up to the moment death stared him in the eyes.
Apart from becoming Eric Bartholomew, who was for a good 40 years much better known by his stage persona, Eric Morecambe, Urbani (pictured) has to morph without the help of computer technology from one character into another – babies, mothers, boys, girls, impresarios, a taxi driver, from seductive starlets to real bitches, and a list of other (mostly) eccentrics.
This play is brilliantly conceived, but its basic conception gives the director a wide scope of theatrical elements to work and play with.
This, as such, falls perfectly in the category of play where Swerdlow can weave his magic – not only with intricate detail, but also in the way he uses sound, music, various objects, lighting and lots more to give the production as a whole a tightrope frisson that never lets go.
Urbani is constantly centre stage. It’s only the combination of a remarkable play and an ever-alert actor who can change character as fast as he can move, that can guarantee a successful staging.
What is more: Morecambe was part of a double act with his friend Ernest Wise – internationally known as Morecambe and Wise, or M & W for short.
In Whitnall’s stage conception, Wise is a puppet and Urbani applies another tone of voice for him. It’s amazing how many accents and dialects this one-man stage chameleon succeeds in handling.
In the first 20 minutes or so of the play it’s rather difficult to follow all the character changes, but in the second half this process is somehow far less hectic.
Some of the 20-somethings in the row in front of us obviously were a bit clueless in following the lightning- quick monologues and dialogues laden with witty one-liners.
It’s obvious: the humour and type of language of this era mostly passed them by with no becoming reaction whatsoever.
Ubani’s body movements and contortions were cleverly done, but at times just a few degrees too over the top. As a visual element it works against a natural depiction of spontaneity, with the result that artificiality begins to creep in.
Morecambe is, notwithstanding these cryptical notes, tremendous entertainment and a rewarding survey on an era in British entertainment history, which is mainly unknown to local audiences due to the fact that M & W fame mainly preceded the time before TV was introduced in South Africa.
Highly recommended for its unusual theatrical “face” and the forthright, passionate way it communicates with slightly older audiences.