Opened as The Princes Theatre in 1884, current name from 1886. Non-stop revue during the 30s. Re-built 1937 and re-opened as a theatre. 1122 seats. Member of the Society of London Theatre. The Prince of Wales is owned and managed by Delfont Mackintosh Theatres Limited who have undertaken the 7.5 million refurbishment programme.
Set on a Greek island, Mamma Mia! centres on 20-year-old Sophie who, on the eve of her wedding, launches a quest to discover the identity of her father. After reading her single mother Donna’s diary, she invites three men from her mum’s past back to the island they all last visited 21 years ago
Mamma mia! Ten years on and this blockbuster catalogue musical that has spawned countless imitators is still in super-trouper-duper shape. I haven’t had so much fun in a theatre since … well, it was probably five years ago, at this show’s fifth birthday.
Since the Abba musical first opened on 6 April 1999, some 19 Mamma Mia! stage productions have been mounted around the world and it’s become a celluloid success care of Meryl Streep, Pierce Brosnan and Colin Firth. If nothing else, returning to the original London production now reminds me just how poor that big-budget Hollywood version is by comparison with its stage progenitor – which is so much naughtier, fresher, funnier and all-round better.
The tenth birthday cast boasts one of the most picture-perfect mother-daughter pairings in Linzi Hateley and Katie Brayben as Donna and Sophie, both blonde-bobbed, bolshy and full of infectious energy. Elsewhere, Joanna Monro and a startlingly well-preserved Jane Gurnett are dynamite comic sidekicks, and Paul Ryan, as one of Sophie’s three possible dads, and Ben Heathcote, as one of the groom’s mischievous friends, make the strongest marks amongst the male characters.
But the show remains the name of the game, thanks to Catherine Johnson’s witty book, Phyllida Lloyd’s fast-paced direction, Anthony Van Laast’s still-sharp choreography – and, last but not least, of course, those endless Abba hits. Thank you for that music, indeed.
Small wonder that Judy Craymer and the production team have made so much money, money, money over the years. Mamma Mia! has rightly earned and justly deserves its blockbuster status. Long may it reign as the West End’s Dancing Queen.
Voulez-vous … again? Go on, you know you do.
- Terri Paddock
Note: The following FIVE-STAR review dates from June 2004 when this production first moved to the West End's Prince of Wales Theatre. “Mamma Mia! Here we go again! My, my, how can we resist it? Oh, since the day it started, We’ve been so broken hearted: No, no, nothing’s quite as good in town."
Never mind that none of the pop musicals that have inevitably followed Mamma Mia! into the West End have come anywhere near to matching its effortless ease and exhilarating high spirits. This is a musical with heart and, unlike such cynical imitators as We Will Rock You and Tonight's the Night, there’s real art and craft, too.
But the good news is Mamma Mia! has just got even better. That’s thanks in part to its newly reopened home, the Prince of Wales which, after a dazzling refit that’s cost over £7m (See News, 20 May 2004), is a show in and of itself (even if some of the finer details weren’t quite finished by press night yet). With its wide yet intimate two-level auditorium, no one’s too far from the stage, the new seating is positively luxurious and the colour scheme of burnished reds warm and inviting. The generously proportioned bars – none of your cramped West End cubby-holes here – are the epitome of style and grace.
More importantly, the show has been sparklingly recreated in its spanking new environment. Now, in a theatrical configuration and comfort that recalls its Broadway home (the likewise lavishly refurbished Winter Garden Theatre, but with better legroom here), Mamma Mia! remains as fresh and exhilarating as it was when it first opened at London’s Prince Edward Theatre five years ago.
While Abba’s repertoire is arguably second only to the Beatles in terms of output and the affection it’s held in, Mamma Mia! is far more than just a catalogue compilation show. Simultaneously celebrating youth and early middle age and touching on the universality of parental relationships, Catherine Johnson’s book very skilfully addresses a wide constituency of Abba fans who see it. It also anchors the show with a witty and involving script as it follows a 20-year-old girl trying to find out who her father is on the eve of her wedding, after she invites the three men she identifies in a old diary of her unmarried mum as possible candidates to attend it.
The songs, of course, provide their own trip down memory lane that isn’t just nostalgic but genuinely comments on the action, too. Abba provided the soundtrack to a generation, but like the best pop, their songs have been re-generated as timeless. And, as delivered with firebrand passion and attack by a cast led by the vibrant and sassy Vivien Parry as mum Donna, Phyllida Lloyd’s production is packed with talent.
In a superb ensemble, there are also terrific contributions from the tall and brassy Kim Ismay and the round and funny Lara Mulcahy as Donna’s best friends and former singing colleagues; the trio of Donna’s former suitors made up of Simon Slater, Robert Hands and Dale Rapley; and Alexandra Jay as daughter Sophie and Dean Stobbart as her husband-to-be.
Thank you for the music, goes one of Abba’s songs featured in the show, to which the only possible response can be, Thank you for the musical!
- Mark Shenton
Note: The following review dates from April 1999 and this production's original opening at the West End's Prince Edward Theatre.
You don't have to be a big fan of 1970s supergroup Abba to enjoy this new musical. For, contrary to some popular misconceptions, Mamma Mia is not about the Swedish foursome nor is it a nostalgic retrospective on the decade that, as the saying goes, taste forgot. The reality is more Four Weddings and a Funeral meets Shirley Valentine with a toe-tapping disco beat.
Set in the present on a tiny Greek island, 20-year-old Sophie (Lisa Stokke), the daughter of English ex-pat and former girl power lead singer Donna (Siobhan McCarthy), is about to be married. Sophie's white-wedding dream is for her father to walk her down the aisle. The problem is that neither Sophie nor her mother knows just exactly who said father is. By sneaking a peek at her mother's diary from her fancy-free days, Sophie narrows it down to three men and invites them all to the big day, thinking that instinctively she'll know who's lent her her genes.
The plot is as skimpy as some of the bikinis sported by the lithe young women of the chorus, but ingenuous nonetheless. Catherine Johnson's book manages to tailor a reasonably coherent story around Abba's collection of greatest hits. No fewer than 22 songs (minus the Eurovision winning “Waterloo” which is conspicuous by its absence) are incorporated into the action, in often quite surprising ways. “Chiquitita”, for instance, is sung to Donna by her old band members as she weeps over the re-appearance of her past lovers while potential-dad Sam (Hilton McRae) explains the complications of divorce to Sophie with “Knowing Me, Knowing You”.
The biggest strength of Johnson's script, as rendered by director Phyllida Lloyd, is that it doesn't take itself too seriously and caters instead to the audience's obvious desire to guess just how and when the next classic song will surface. The performers join in on the game quite happily and appear to have great fun with the music and with Anthony Van Laast's kitsch choreography, which incorporates plenty of crooning into hairdryers, hairbrushes and snorkels.
Of the performers, McCarthy is strong-voiced and assured as the aging but still boisterous and beautiful Donna, and her sidekick Dynamos, butterball Jenny Galloway and Patsy Stone-lookalike Louise Plowright, provide plenty of laughs. The men fare less well with McRae, in particular, proving incapable of carrying his weight musically. Of the younger generation, Stokke is bright and bushy-tailed but the rest make little impact - which, to be fair, is as much a product of the script as anything.
All in all, though, the most memorable part of the evening is the score. Who knew that these dance floor favourites would adapt so well to the stage. But oh - they do, they do, they do, they do, they do. Go ahead - I'm sorry I can't help myself - take a chance on it.
A night full of surprises. I attended the November 26th performance of Mamma Mia with some trepidation. After all, I made no secret of my suspicion that the decision to cast Niamh Perry as Sophie was partially influenced by myopic commercial "TV Land" considerations, considerations I still don't feel were in her long-term interest nor in the interest of the West End. This is why the reader should assign double weight to what I am about to write.
I doubt anyone with his or her eyes closed listening to Niamh could honestly guess her age?
The richness of Niamh's tonal palette combined with the maturity of her phrasing, creates a cognitive dissonance between what your ears register musically, and your eyes register chronologically. It's as if her voice is an amalgamation of reincarnated divas with a freshness not yet coarsened by the ravages of time. They say that youth is wasted on the young, yet somehow Niamh has managed to cheat the vocal Gods. Her performance left me both mesmerized and saddened. Mesmerized by vocals interpretively well beyond her years and saddened that a more lucrative recording career has not yet materialized for her?
Sally Ann Triplett as Donna was simply stunning. The breadth and depth of her vocal, dramatic and comedic ranges were blended to absolute perfection. The uniquely original mixture of her giddiness, confusion and anger upon seeing Sam for the first time in 20 years, made her rendition of Mamma Mia truly unforgettable. I thought I had already gleaned some hint of Sally Ann's vocal facility from a recent outdoor performance in Hyde Park, but I was wrong. Outdoor acoustics left me woefully unprepared for the true depth of her virtuosity.
The seamlessness with which she married her stunning technique to her equally insightful emotional interpretations of Slipping Through My Fingers, One of us and The Winner Takes it All, rendered them, and her, positively electrifying.
Leanne Rogers played a convincing Rosie with vocals that are simultaneously disciplined and expressive. With the Role of Rosie, less is often more, And Leanne selflessly understates her character for the good of the show when necessary. In some ways, the characters of Donna and Tanya are, and should be, bigger than life; this makes Leanne's restraint, all the more commendable.
One would think I would eventually run out of praise for Jane Gurnett; think again. Jane has found a new synergy with Sally Ann, convincing me they are genuine old friends. During Chiquitita, my entire torso began a kind of involuntary spastic movement that I initially interpreted as a combination of indigestion and hiccups only to realize that my entire upper body had been set to "chuckle," not unlike a "Tickle-Me-Elmo" doll. For about 15 seconds I was actually concerned that I would not be able to stop. The only other time I experienced anything like that was when I worked nights at a peach packing plant and became so sleep deprived that I started laughing at a joke and continued uncontrollably for approximately 20 minutes. It was a temporary but very real psychotic episode brought on by sleep deprivation.
So thank you Jane, your physical comedy and expert timing caused me to lose control of my laugh reflex. You really should come with a medical warning. Sam Carmichael as played by Norman Bowman was excellent. He possesses an exceptional voice and uses it to genuine dramatic effect. Without a believable Sam, Donna's job becomes much more difficult which, thankfully, is not the case with Norman Bowman.
The other dads were more than just believable, they were authentic. Well done Paul Ryan as Harry Bright, and Bill Austin's stand in, Anthony Topham. A brief note on demographics. One of the nicer things about Mamma Mia historically, has been the general level of civility in the audience, typically a bit older, better heeled, dressed and spoken than your average beer-swilling Wicked audience member. I have now detected a definite slide toward the "Wicked end" of the gene pool, and actually don't blame "TV Land" nearly as much as "Movie Land." So for all of you hen party gals who got lost on the way to the ABBA Sing Along, do all of us a huge favor, stay home and watch Mamma Mia the Movie projected onto the giant plasma TV mounted on your cave wall.
Think about it:
1. it's much cheaper than a theatre ticket,
2. it saves you the agony of trying to find fake fur-lined Eskimo boots to match your fake fur-lined, standard-issue Vicky Pollard neoprene coat,
3. you can really get blasted without having to pay 4 pounds for a cheap champagne served in even cheaper plastic glasses,
4. You can reduce carbon emissions by drinking directly out of the bottle not to mention the general improvement to the aesthetics your absence will bring to the city,
5. You can sing along as loudly as you wish with Meryl Streep, which ironically, will probably make you both in tune with each other,
6. If you start your party early enough, you may have time to catch X Factor where you can spend, voting for your favorite act, what you would have spent on a theatre ticket even though it will no doubt be your second choice in light of Jedward's recent exit,
And finally, if you still feel compelled to grace the big city with all your refined charms and urbane elegance, you can always go to the brand new and much anticipated production of "Dumb and Dumber, the Musical," starring, you guessed it, Jedward where you will actually be encouraged to sing along, out of tune, and hence, in tune, with those equally charming twins.
Speaking of X Factor, if TV Land casting it is indeed a new economic, and inescapably necessary evil to ensure West End survival, then I'd like to nominate another Lucy for the next Sophie, Lucy Jones!
Since so many cave dwellers seem to have gotten lost on the way to the Mamma Mia sing along, the absolute minimum courtesy the pathetically impotent theatres could do would be to make an announcement asking the fake fur-lined audience members to please refrain from singing until the very end. Last night I actually had a nightmare where I was surrounded by a chorus of fur-lined celebrity riff-raff led by Katie Price and Jedward singing spectacularly off-key in my ear. It was called "I'm a critic, get me out of here!"
Timothy Winey
P.S., at the risk of angering the Gods, the Pantheon has now been expanded. Make room for Sally Ann!
- Timothy Winey
27 Nov 09
All is forgiven! I recently wrote some fairly harsh words about Mamma Mia the Movie, most of which I still stand by. That being said, I no longer hold Benny and Bjorn personally responsible for that cinematic farce. I now suspect that the ego of Meryl Streep along with bad directing fatally conspired against “the boys.” Even if “B&B” had final editorial power, how would they fix something broken from its inception? Let’s face it, once the producers and directors deviated from the stage version, the movie’s artistic failure was all but assured. I base my absolution in part, to the heartfelt appreciation Benny and Bjorn showed 65,000 of their serenading fans in a special September 13 concert in Hyde Park. Benny also impressed me with his daring symphonic piece, and ongoing collaboration with folk music groups, showing me that for him, it is still “about the music.” In his own words, Bjorn is not a “sentimental man;” that being said, one could not help feel his appreciation for the unconditional love so many people spontaneously expressed to him. This must be the kind of adulation that politicians can only dream of. All I can say to them is forget Olympic bids, and learn to sing!
While it is true that the audio did no favors to certain artists at the beginning of the show, there were other artists who did not do the audio any favors either, but those were thankfully relatively few and far between. The new cast of Mamma Mia looks to be back on top (no small feat with Linzi Hately on sabbatical). In my own partial defense, while I never publicly created more than one seat in the “Pantheon” per role, I concede that I deliberately implied it. This was until I saw, and more importantly, heard, Sally Ann Triplett. She is, in my view, a very strong performer and just may have already reached the bar Linzi raised. I will need to see the show in its entirety to make a more detailed assessment, but Sally Ann definitely has my attention. I took a peak at her modest but tasteful website with an area for fan pictures that she promises to fill in as soon as she “gets one?” Sally, I think you need to get out more often! I’ll send you my picture if you can’t find anyone else!
Jane Gurnette was in rare form and looked great, working the stage as only she can. I don’t know anything about the new Rosie, but enjoyed her performance also. I think it helps the believability of the three dynamos if they are of similar age, and I did sincerely believe that these three could be friends in real life.
I think Jodie stood out as the star of the show. She worked that stage like a veteran. I strongly urge Mr. Macintosh to say a little prayer every night thanking his lucky stars he did not get his way during “I’d do Anything;” living proof that even the top dogs don’t always know what’s best for them.
I was particularly impressed with the stunning yet subtle voice of Kylie Minogue. I see Kylie as a Stradivarius violin, seemingly more suited to smaller venues whereas Jodie (a Guarnerius) is more easily appreciated outdoors. Using my audio technology, I took the liberty of filtering some samples of Kylie’s performance for a closer listen.
Her pitch was uncanny, and the range of her tonal palette was extraordinary! She’s clearly much more than the pop persona her handlers have manufactured for her. I also sensed her genuine gratitude for the opportunity Benny gave her. So Kyle, if it was a mere publicity stunt, please don’t tell me! I like to believe that at least some singers, on some level, express sincerity in their music, sincerity that springs spontaneously from internal sources.
Sincerely,
- Timothy Winey
03 Oct 09
I could not help thinking of the BBC’s Dragon’s Den when watching the 10th anniversary show, thinking to myself that the Dragon’s would never have backed such an implausible production 10 years ago. It was a surreal evening to say the least. Swedes with soft, cuddly Viking helmets, caterwaulers who looked and sounded like they got lost on the way to the movie sing-along (a little old lady next to my wife sang every word, including Slipping Through My Fingers, so out of tune, it was almost in tune, the ABBA (not Mamma Mia, but ABBA fan) behind me singing equally out of tune but nearly a third lower, creating a kind of macabre harmony that I can only imagine in Hell’s choir, the idiot wrapped in a moron Italian couple who felt the need, indeed obligation, to explain every plot line to their 4 year old during the quietest and most tender moments! Dare I go on? You get the picture. It was, in a word, a circus. I did feel genuinely sorry for the cast, as they were hopelessly upstaged by the “show within the show.” How would you like to be in a cast where half the dress circle refuses to sit down after intermission and has their backs to you waiting for the big cheeses to come down? But it was all worth it to catch a glimpse of B&B making history, and a few billion in the process.
I had a quick chat with “the boys” afterwards about a recording project I’m working on, gave them some samples, and told them in no uncertain terms, that Mamma Mia had cured my wife’s depression which garnered a few chuckles! Linzi was stunning, as usual, and graciously signed autographs afterwards. I don’t feel it would be fair to review the circus, I mean show, it was simply too manic an atmosphere to give a fair assessment; at times it almost seemed a parity of itself given all the distractions of inappropriate sing-alongs, star gazing, and general mayhem. Despite the distractions all around, Linzi and Jane were cool as cucumbers. I was sad to not see more of a presence from previous casts, especially those in the Pantheon (you know who you are). If I was a Dragon and presented with the singing and acting of the current Sam, Bill and Sky, I’d be forced to say in Dragon speak, “I’m out!” They make this “venture” very heavy lifting for the rest of the cast, and thus, not worth “capitalizing” until there is a major personnel shakeup.
- Timothy Winey
14 Apr 09
absolutely fantastic i have seen it in 2006, 2009 and 2009 lol 3 times!!!! and i am only 15! this show is the best show i have ever seen in london- and i DO go to A LOT of shows!!!!!! no joke i cant believe how good it is i recommend everyone to see it! the characters are amazing especially donna and the dinomos ;p also the boys in their swim trunks lol!! the best person in it is ben heathcote he is drop dead gorgeous and he is a great actor i would love him to dance for me instread of tanya in 'does your mother know' ahahaha!!!! thanks for making my childhood memories so unforgetable i am going to see it again in the summer!!!!! ben heathcote if you read this somehow please email me lol i love you lmao !!!! i love mamma mia!! x - genevieve mccarthy
09 Apr 09
Get a real life. The movie AND the stage show are both crap. I loved and still love Abba - a huge fan, but this drivel is embarrassing. I saw the show in New York, after everyone I knew seemed to have seen it in London and thought it was fab. I didn't get it and if I hadn't been so loathe to waste even more money I would have left in the interval. Full of gushing bad actors who tried weakly to make the audience believe that their renditions of Abba classics were spur of the moment dialogues. Brassy over the top bores who didn't convince me one iota. Refusing to throw up, I hoped it would getbetter. It didn't, but turned into a nauseating Abba karaoke at the end - as if we needed anything further to convince us that the characters were 2 dimensional and could never be believed. Anyway, years went by and I got over it. Then came the movie. Again, people said things like, "Yeah, the show is a bit twee, but the movie is so much better" and "My boyfriend actually cried". I watched it. I felt like crying too. Not out of any catharsis for the characters, but because I had been duped again and wasted a further pot of money. Sat with lots of chocolate, watching this crap, I attempted to laugh at moments, but truly knew it was not funny, butsad. Meryl, you were fab in The Devil Wears Prada, your zenith. This however had to be your nadir. Over the top reactions to 3 men turning up to your daughter's wedding. You would obviously open the door and say, Oh my god, what are you all doing here? Not, jump on the roof singing Mamma Mia here I go again! Go where? Down the pan, that's where. Another dull moment, on a cliff top warbling Thw Winner Takes It All, like a banshee. I half expected Pierce Brosnan to push her off the edge, shouting, "Shut up! You daft cow!" Oh and the gay reference! How crude. And of course he had to go "camp!" How boring. How 70s. We've moved on Benny and Bjorn. It's the 21st Century. I acn't comment on Pierce's "singing". I will be sick. Anyway, now gonna buy the DVD! - Richard Williams
19 Oct 08
Mamma Mia, the feel-good ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity disorder) movie of the year.
Where to begin? I don’t think I could have envisioned, in my wildest dreams, a better example of what is wrong with Hollywood. But alas, should we expect anything less where fame and money, regardless of how they are attained, are now the yardstick by which all things are measured? The fame and wealth legitimately achieved by the hard-working, highly talented ABBA stand in stark contrast to this abomination to everything they used to stand for. Why they chose to sell out for a quick buck they obviously don’t need, irrevocably besmirching themselves in the process, only they know? In order to reach the ADHD audience most likely to find this movie entertaining, I will attempt to clarify my thoughts in a vernacular more suited to their all-too limited capacity.
Oh my gosh! The music in this movie was like total crap; I mean who ever told Meryl Streep she could sing needs to get Cher drunk in a cowboy bar on Karaoke night so that Streep can hear herself sliding into notes like a pig farmer through poo. When I first heard the previews on the Internet I was like no way! My sound card must be malfunctioning (breaking)? My dog was like so upset he started howling, something he only does when he has an ear infection. I’m all, why didn’t they lip-sync it? If it was good enough for My Fair Lady and West side Story, it should be good enough for the caterwauling Meryl? Sorry Bubbles (Bubbles is the name of my cat I just like totally insulted by using the term caterwauling when describing Streep’s voice; [not even my dog howls when Bubbles caterwauls]).
Now back to “English for grown-ups.” Benny and Bjorn should be more than ashamed of themselves; they should donate all their ill-gotten proceeds from this fiasco to all the real singers and actors out there currently out of work. I’m sure that any backup singer used in this film would be infinitely more capable of singing all the tracks for Miss Streep who, to her credit, has shown more nerve than sense by butchering these timeless ABBA tunes, ridiculing herself before countless millions in the process (no offense to butchers intended or implied).
I’m personally stunned that the promoters of this film would actually expose themselves to the mockery this movie invites by releasing previews online before the actual premier! Are they deaf? Even the tempos are too fast, perhaps sped up to address the ADHD target audience’s limited attention span or mercifully limit the torture time on Meryl’s longer notes? I could write a thousand pages on why not to see this film but I won’t; instead I’m going to recommend it with a twist and here’s why. If people see this film and then go to the London stage production afterwards, there will be a rebirth of live theatre as well as the hastening of Hollywood’s long-overdue self-imposed, artistically bankrupt, greed-driven, suicide.
I didn’t think it was possible, but even Meryl Streep’s speaking voice was out of tune? After witnessing this dramatic, comic, vocal, and choreographic and cinematic meltdown, I can only blame a mixture of greed and ego. Phyllida Lloyd actually had the temerity to suggest in one of those insufferably nauseating pseudo-documentary infomercials masquerading as a “behind the scenes look at the making of the film” that anyone who doesn’t like this film is a cynic! “News flash Phyllida,” a pessimist is an optimist well informed, and your so-called “feel good” movie, made me wish there was a barf bag in a seat pocket in front of me. The girl chosen for the role of Sophie the producers claim to have fallen in love with was horrific. To say that her singing was slightly out of key would be like saying Gordon Brown has a slight charisma problem. Her emotional range went from giggling to confused. I didn’t believe anything she said. Her bulbous lips that looked like a botched collagen injection on a younger Angelina Jolie in a cheap blond wig quivering with ambiguous emotion made me feel that the title “airhead” would have been an intellectual and dramatic compliment for her.
Phyllida, you didn’t even have the decency to preserve the storyline from the stage version, which is in my view, living proof you didn’t give a diddly damn about anything but lining your pockets. In fact, since we are in a “fame for its own sake” mode, why not really shake up the story and have Sophie (played by Linzi Lohan) call off the wedding, not to see the world, but rather to run away with her true love (one of her friends played by Jodie Foster). Rosie O’Donnell could play the minister at the ceremony. I’m tempted to say that Pierce Brosnan was a joke, but there’s nothing more pathetic than a 50-something man who still thinks he’s 28 with no singing, dancing or stage acting talent in the role of Sam, nothing. We even hear from Meryl in a pathetic attempt at self-deprecation that she only made the movie to embarrass her 20 something children.
Why, for the love of Pete, couldn’t she simply have not sung for them at a family gathering instead of defiling the memory of ABBA in such a cynical manner? I cannot think of a more offensive display of false-humility laced with an almost spiteful swipe at all those younger, more deserving, but sadly less well connected Hollywood “wannabes” bussing tables out there who do not have her pull in Tinsel Town. I have been rinsing my mouth out with gasoline every day since the premiere, and I still can’t get rid of the taste. On a cinematography note, the camera crew must have suffered from both ADHD and epilepsy. Their disjointed haphazard rapidity of the scene changes made even a promotional clip of any other comparable movie look like time-lapse video of grass growing.
The producers of this “film” could have simply filmed the stage version in front of a blue screen. After all, if they can put Streep in a car in front of a blue screen that made the old Dukes of Hazard chase scenes look like the pinnacle of realism, why not ditch the car scene and film the entire play in front of beautiful scenery instead of that cheap, virtual “carnival ride?” Bizarre.
I thought I was going to have a seizure! It’s not the arrogance of the totally unqualified Hollywood power players muscling their way into roles they are infinitely unqualified to play that has me so upset, it’s the assumption that the public, by and large, wouldn’t notice, and sadly, for the most part, they didn’t.
Profoundly disappointed,
Timothy Winey
- Timothy Winey
21 Sep 08
When we last saw Mamma Mia in March I predicted that the film would be rubbish. Well, it's slightly better than that but everyone I know who has seen the stage show complained about the same things: actors who are too old and/or can't sing, songs left out or in the wrong order and a misguided belief that the story matters more than the music. The film was also very expensive as we just had to see the show again as soon as possible. I thought I might be slightly bored seeing it so soon but I needn't have worried especially as there seemed to be an extra crackle of electricity between the performers and the audience. Being a Friday we got to see Peter Challis as Harry. More Harry Hill than Colin Firth Challis has been part of the ensemble since Benny and Bjorn were kids - surely he deserves a run in a featured role by now. (Similarly Joanna Monro is worthy of a nomination as Best Supporting Acttress but that won't happen.) Also worthy of promotion is Charlie Bull who played Sophie. As well as being stunningly pretty Charlie is the first girl we've seen to play Sophie with remnants of teenage attitude which was very effective. Mamma Mia continues to provide an adrenaline rush of pure excitement and pleasure and I can't wait for our eighth visit. - David Baxter
23 Aug 08
Ïoëåçíûå ñòàòüè î Seo, ïðîäâèæåíèè ñàéòîâ è çàðàáîòêó â èíòåðíåò - AponnaFag
26 Jul 08
Saw the show last night - Mon 14th July. Was disappointed when I got to the theatre to see that Linzi was off - should have done my research as she never does Mondays now. We also had the 2nd cover Sophie, Lisa Sebold and her part of Ali/Lisa (can't remember which) was also being covered. Still really enjoyed the evening and Amanda Jacques was great as Donna - just a little young maybe...there seemed to a big age gap between her and her best friends! She had a great mother/daughter relationship with Lisa Sebold though and they both seemed to go on a great journey together. I've seen Joanna Monro a couple of times now and she was as good as ever and I really liked Jane Gurnett as Tanya.
It's interesting reading down these reviews how often there is an alternate or undertsudy on for a lead - almost every performance by the look of it!
I'll go again but really want to catch Linzi this time. - Salsa
15 Jul 08
I saw Mamma Mia yesterday matinee and thought it was terrific! The leading ladies were wonderful but I was especially pleased with the new dads. Having seen the show last year, these new boys were a breath of fresh air. Andrew Hall of Butterflies fame gave us a very honest and an hilariously funny portrayal of an Australian travel writer, Bill. A very stylish mover too! Paul Ryan was equally excellent as Harry and was smashing in'Our Last Summer', with wonderful comic timing and a lovely voice. Richard laing brought to the stage a great honesty and gravitas to the role of Sam, vitally impotant for a show like this, creating a dramatic backbone. And a great voice too!! Excellent. Thumbs up for this production, a joy !!! - angus
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