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The concept of this play is that Pinchbeck’s parents met in an amateur dramatic production of The Sound of Music, at the post show party. This ‘show’ is about the ‘post show party’ – hence the name. There are also clever other meanings you can get from the title, which I will leave you to consider quietly. Pinchbeck’s parents, along with the man himself, are the only performers; onstage throughout – Dad acting (more on this later) and Mum teching. The parents are lovely (or profoundly cruel people with the talent for appearing innocuous that is unique to the seasoned sociopath). The plot is simple – at the party, the post show party, the male actors, who have had little to do in the production, sing songs parodying the musical. Edelweiss becomes Idle Vice, for example. One of the men collapses mid-song, and eventually dies. The party called to a halt, Pa Pinchbeck takes the future Ma Pinchbeck home and they share an intimate kiss. Michael is pre-conceived.
The concept is an interesting one – the equivalent of a found poem. Much of the playwright’s job has been done for him. However, I’m not one of those people who complain about modern art or the BBC’s liberal Zionist bias etc, so that isn’t really a problem. Art is employment. And the elements of the story were employed quite well. The balletic repetition of the singer’s collapse, for example, and the rich connections between father and son which made for an onstage chemistry of a sort I’ve never seen before. Their moments of interchange were great. Pinchbeck’s father has the charisma of a theatrical knight tempered with an avuncular (ironic I know) humbleness. This actually works very well in combination with his son’s Dave Gorman levels of quiet smugness. I don’t know why I’m being cruel to Michael Pinchbeck – he has written a play about the Bodyline scandal, which is a fantastic thing to do. And he has produced an accomplished piece of event theatre. But I feel no guilt, for some reason.
Perhaps it is because the ideas, chiefly that Garden of Forking Paths, Sound of Thunder (and, if you must, Butterfly Effect) conceit of the present’s shaky contingency on the past, are not taken to any particularly new conclusions. It is personal, but nowhere near enough to be called confessional (not that this is a criticism really; experimental theatre has too many Plaths and not enough ovens). It is a charming curio with aspirations. Noble enough, but ultimately unremarkable. That said, it is worth seeing for the palpable family pride at the curtain call.
Cambridge Tab ****
On friday evening I saw Michael Pinchbeck's 'Post Show Party Show'. The story is about Michael Pinchbeck, his dad and his mum: performed by him, his dad and his mum. In it, he and his dad re-enact the post-show party where his parents met in 1970. Kind of.
The show jumps backwards and forwards in time and place. Each of the sixteen scenes is set to a track from The Sound of Music. The show is remarkable to watch, very carefully strucuted, sometimes it seems to be a dance. It is tight yet loose. The story comes through in fragments. Repeated actions and phrases begin to make sense.
It is the story of one night in 1970 that could have faded into obscurity - the post show party of an amatuer dramatics group in Lincoln. Except that two things happened of great significance - the ending of one life and a meeting that would lead to the beginning of another. I was fascinated to watch Michael Pinchbeck and his father Tony on stage. There was a great playfulness between them and their lip-synch was perfect.
I watched the two men, one young, one old, one swift, one stiff - going through the same movements and words. There was a beauty in it. Layers of story are told without words, we are here and now, there and then. It is not the telling of someone elses story but a remembering of their own story. But through attempting to remember it becomes something new.
Platform
"Let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start." Altogether now, Doe, a deer, a female deer, ray, a drop of golden sun....
Love it or hate it, The Sound of Music has been a musical phenomenon for 50 years, from stage musical to film, from cult gay Singalong shows (reputedly created in an Inverness old people's home), to a BBC talent series leading to West End and UK tour revivals.
Now we have a Fringe show about the people, backstage drama and future consequences after a production of the musical. Just like Maria and Captain Von Trapp and his troupe of children, this is a true story.
The audience is greeted at the theatre entrance by Tony, Michael and Vivienne Pinchbeck and offered a glass of Shloer apple juice. Welcome to the party! The plot of the play is about what happened on 4 December, 1970 when Tony met Vivienne at the post show party after they had both performed (playing a Nazi and a Nun) in an amateur production of The Sound of Music. It's all about fate, as Michael explains at the start, " If Tony had not been in the show, I wouldn't be here."
Father and son (Tony and Michael), dressed identically in brown shirts and black slacks, then proceed to re-enact the dramatic and romantic events of that party. Vivienne observes from the prompt desk, in charge of all the perfectly timed music cues. Against the soundtrack from the Julie Andrews movie, the narrative for the play echoes the lyrics of each song from "I have Confidence in Me" to Tony singing his oldie version, "I am 60 going on 70."
But this show is more than just a light-hearted comedy. Michael's aim in researching the story of his parent's first brief encounter, was to question their hazy memories of that night and the changing roles they played both on and off stage. Likewise Michael and Tony switch between real and imaginary people, playing characters in the musical as well as "acting" themselves, both past and present. Their professional skill at performing in an amateur manner without a trace of ham acting or send up, is a fine art indeed.
Sixteen brilliantly choreographed scenes are played out in an energetic blend of mime, dance, conversational sketches, song lyrics, physical theatre and direct interaction with the audience. With a touch of farce and crystal-sharp, intelligent wit, this innovative show is performed in the style of a Brechtian-inspired Morecambe and Wise double act. I had a permanent smile on my face throughout.
Edinburgh Guide *****
There is something emotionally affecting about seeing a fully grown man perform on stage with his real-life mother and father. Outside the circus or village hall, this is not something you often get to witness – and even in these instances it's rarely made into a narrative focal point in the way it is here.
The show tells the story of how Michael Pinchbeck's parents, Tony and Vivienne, met in 1970 at the final night party of an amateur dramatics production of The Sound of Music.
All three family members star in the piece in which past and present, fact and fiction are blurred together in a playfully self-referential way. It could be either horribly painful or truly brilliant. Delightfully, it's the latter.
Sixteen scenes take their themes from individual songs from the musical, including Climb Every Mountain, Maria and So Long, Farewell.
Within these numbers Michael (Total Theatre Award winner in 1999) and Tony incorporate dance and physical theatre, play with narrative structure, and tell us how the performance we're now watching came to exist.
There's a wonderfully facetious moment when Michael steps out of the action and asks us whether we think the narrative is too slow, too fast, too like radio or could do with more dancing.
Father and son portray all the characters, including the entire cast of The Sound of Music and each other, with a compelling matter-of-fact honesty. It's a very unsentimental, yet touching piece in which the importance of family is conveyed without ever being said. Vivienne is in the middle of the stage throughout – the central figure around which the action revolves – silently managing the sound system.
The show is essentially a celebration of the kind of seemingly insignificant moments that lead to monumental changes in one's life, as well as a tribute to the often unrecognised enjoyment that amateur theatre brings to those involved in it.
As Michael points out, if it hadn't been for a two-week run of a small-scale production in Lincoln, his parents would never have met, he would never have been born and we wouldn't be sitting here watching this show now – and there's something quite lovely about all of that.
The Scotsman ****
