PERFORMANCE & COMEDY

Colston Hall, Bristol (until Fri 30 Dec)

THEATRE With its main house on lockdown, the 2011 Bristol Old Vic Christmas show was always going to make something of a statement in its temporary relocation to the 1,800-seat Colston Hall, bringing with it a 22-part orchestra, 64 choristers, a cast of 50 and a story splicing fiction, fact and famous classical music that has already lured a quarter of a million or so punters to the National Theatre in London.

Not that ‘Coram Boy’ is purely feelgood pomp. Indeed, those expecting a sugary seasonal sleighride are treated to far darker fare as scenes of pre-marital sex, grave-digging, infanticide, drowning, multiple stabbings and a heck of a lot of intra-family feuding criss-cross throughout the play’s 30-odd year timeframe.

Whilst the size might occasionally threaten the subtlety, director Melly Still plays two trump cards extraordinarily well: firstly, in juggling her ample ensemble, animating them with a choreographer’s eye and creating great torrents of physical human drama around the dialogue; and secondly, in making wonderful wide-angle use of the layer cake staging as actors and scenery sweep in from all sides and all exits creating, at times, the composition of a communal Renaissance painting. There’s the omnipresent angel, whose wings embrace the width of the hall; a swarm of young spirits rise from their tombs; a father’s rage destroys more than the wooden instruments he banishes and most memorably, a heroic swim in the port of Bristol seems to pull the whole audience toward the muddy murk of the Avon.

The cast work extremely hard as a well-drilled unit, though Fionn Gill’s damaged outcast Meshak – wild-eyed, feral and naïve – impresses in particular, as does Emily Head’s Melissa (who gives birth, simulates intercourse, loses love, finds it), Saskia Portway’s maternal Lady Ashbrook, Tristan Sturrock’s charismatically malevolent Otis Gardiner, Lucy Black’s embattled Mrs Lynch and George Clark/Max Macmillan as Young Alexander/Young Thomas.

With the whole cast – community choir, orchestra et al – thumping out Handel’s majestic ‘Messiah’ chorus at the play’s end, resisting a blub is of course futile; not least for the multisensory onstage spectacle, but also to see two of Bristol’s cultural giants working together on a story set, made and performed in the city, by the city. Truly, a gift - and a ringing testament to the power of collective human endeavour.

(Jess Seabright)

Pic: Mark Douet

Copyright Jess Seabright 2011