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audience suitably gripped. For older<br />
punters like myself, what makes these<br />
two long outings resonate has less to do<br />
with time-travel than the dark<br />
consequences that lie therein. (Could<br />
Scorpius, you’re made to wonder, be the<br />
son of the evil Voldemort?).<br />
Add to this a fraught father-son<br />
relationship between a guilt-ridden Harry<br />
who, at one point expresses the wish<br />
that Albus wasn’t his son, and Albus’s<br />
understandable need to justify himself in<br />
order to become his own person, and<br />
you have a real adult dynamic at work.<br />
Friendship and loyalty are also seriously<br />
explored, especially in the bromance<br />
(and its hint of something more)<br />
between Albus and Scorpius. Even the<br />
subject of child-abuse in Harry’s early<br />
years is raised in a flashback.<br />
The undoubted triumph of this epic<br />
adventure is its visual concept. Whereas<br />
on film the magical world of Harry Potter<br />
was created by CGI, in this stage version<br />
the illusions you see actually happen in<br />
front of you. There’s flying and levitation<br />
with, as far as I could make out, no<br />
strings attached (literally!). Steam hisses<br />
out of a character’s ears, a mask of green<br />
flame hovers across the stage, a centaur<br />
appears, children turn into adults in front<br />
of your eyes, chilling ghost-like<br />
Dementors waft menacingly across the<br />
auditorium, water submerges the stage,<br />
in a split second ordinary clothes change<br />
into a school uniform, and library<br />
books fly.<br />
The only back projection would<br />
appear to be the rippling effect on<br />
Hogwarts’s Victorian arches when young<br />
Albus and Scorpius embark on their<br />
time-travels. Suitcases are a recurring<br />
prop throughout and a pair of movable<br />
staircases prove vital to the story-telling<br />
process. Take a bow James Harrison for<br />
his magic illusions, Christine Jones for<br />
her dark and brooding set designs,<br />
Katrina Lindsay for her imaginative<br />
costumes, Steven Hoggett, the<br />
movement director, and overall director<br />
John Tiffany for keeping the momentum<br />
going. And if ever a hard-working<br />
backstage crew deserved a curtain call of<br />
their very own, this is it.<br />
Though there are no stars in a cast of<br />
over 40, the standout performances are<br />
Jamie Parker’s fraught Harry, Noma<br />
Dumazweni’s authoritative Hermione,<br />
Sam Clemmett’s troubled Albus,<br />
Annabell Balding’s scene-stealing<br />
Moaning Myrtle, Paul Thornley’s likable<br />
Ron Weasley, Esther Smith’s duplicitous<br />
Delphi Diggory, and best of all (in the<br />
best role of all), Anthony Boyle’s multifaceted<br />
Scorpius. It’s a wonderful,<br />
award-winning turn.<br />
Paul Thornley (Ron Weasley) and<br />
\Noma Dumezweni (Hermione Granger)<br />
The five and a half hours aren’t free of<br />
longueurs, there’s far too much exposition<br />
and several characters remain marginalised<br />
and under-developed. So what?<br />
The real achivement of Harry Potter<br />
and the Cursed Child is that its creative<br />
triumvirate have successfully managed<br />
to make flesh J.K. Rowling’s particular<br />
realm of wizadry and to take us on a<br />
magical mystery tour through time in<br />
which everyday concerns such as family,<br />
friendship, love and loyalty comfortably<br />
co-exist in a world in which it is also<br />
possible to explore alternate destinies –<br />
not all of them for the better.<br />
CLIVE HIRSCHHORN<br />
OUR LADIES OF PERPETUAL<br />
SUCCOUR<br />
Dorfman<br />
In their green and tartan outfits, they<br />
look as though butter wouldn’t melt in<br />
their mouths (and their singing is<br />
divine) but these six convent schoolgirls<br />
from the small Scottish coastal town<br />
Oban who are on their way to a choral<br />
competition are no angels – as becomes<br />
apparent even before they whip off their<br />
uniforms and get set to ‘go mental’<br />
As far as they’re concerned, this trip<br />
to Edinburgh is a chance to get drunk,<br />
laid and basically off their heads –<br />
which is what they proceed, with varying<br />
degrees of success, to do. But along the<br />
way there are some tender revelations.<br />
Tough Fionnula (Dawn Sievewright) isn’t<br />
quite what she seems, fragile cancer<br />
survivor Orla (Melissa Allan), back from<br />
Lourdes, is nursing her own secret, and<br />
Chell (Caroline Deyga) is only too aware<br />
that her sister is her auntie.<br />
Adapted from Alan Warner’s 1998<br />
novel, The Sopranos, Lee Hall’s stage<br />
version (he also wrote the book for the<br />
smash hit Billy Elliot) is a fast-paced,<br />
foul-mouthed and very funny dash<br />
through a few hours of freedom away<br />
from the disapproving eyes of the nuns<br />
and the limited reality of their everyday<br />
lives and, most probably, their future.<br />
Vicky Featherstone’s joyously raucous<br />
production has the girls playing the<br />
various men they encounter, too - from<br />
the young and shy to the old and leering<br />
via the decidedly dubious - as well as<br />
singing (accompanied by an all-female<br />
three piece band) to music ranging from<br />
Mendelssohn and Bach to ELO.<br />
It’s a life affirming, interval-free tribute<br />
to a handful of feisty women in the<br />
making, and the young cast (completed<br />
by Frances Mayli McCann’s Kylah,<br />
Karen Fishwick’s posh Kay with<br />
university in her sights and Kirsty<br />
MacLaren’s uninhibited Manda whose<br />
idea of Cleopatra- style luxury is adding<br />
powdered milk to her bath) give this<br />
lively co-production with the National<br />
Theatre of Scotland all they’ve got.<br />
Louise Kingsley<br />
17<br />
t h i s i s l o n d o n m a g a z i n e • t h i s i s l o n d o n o n l i n e
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