Theatre Review - Carmen

Carmen by Georges Bizet, adapted and directed by Chris Monks.

The New Vic Theatre, Newcastle-Under-Lyme

When theatre director, musician, and writer Chris Monks was asked to direct a drama school production of The Mikado in the 90s, no one could have predicted what would come of it.

On a shoestring budget Monks couldn’t even stretch to Japanese costumes, so what did he do? He re-imagined the Gilbert and Sullivan opera and set it on a cricket pitch. The production’s success fast-tracked it to the New Vic theatre of Newcastle-under-Lyme in Staffordshire, and this adaptation-restoration-reinvention - call it what you will - became his mark as a theatre director, and the blueprint for many more incredibly successful musical productions.

Now as the Artistic Director of the New Vic’s twin theatre in Scarborough, the Stephen Joseph Theatre, Monks’ critically acclaimed re-workings are as popular as ever, with his production of Carmen continuing the trend to make opera more accessible to the masses – it’s English, it’s recognisable, and it’s entertaining.

Monks relocates the sultry Spanish gypsy to a modern British shopping centre – and we’re not talking shiny floors, glass walls, and dolled up Dorothy Perkins gals; we’re talking check-out chavs in Kwik Save supermarket tabards with pregnant teenagers and cocky workmen.

You’re probably wondering how Georges Bizet’s 19th century sensual French opera can possibly translate in such a context, but with a timeless tale of fiery passion and deadly jealousy Monks has really made it work.

He’s taken the three main players of the deadly love triangle – a promiscuous Gypsy, an honest soldier, and a bullfighter – and presented us with the modern equivalent – a chav, a police officer, and a premier league footballer.

Well-to-do police officer Johnny J (Gareth Kennerley), obsessively in love, goes to prison for Carmen (Caroline Keiff) after she gets into a fight. She promises to wait for him, but, once free, she leads him to a life of crime and ditches him for fame and money when Italian footballer and heartthrob Tony Amor (Neil Moors) arrives in town. Johnny’s jealousy soon takes a nasty turn.

The intimate theatre-in-the-round setting matches the flamboyant nature of opera by amplifying the drama of Carmen’s dangerous teases, Johnny J’s claustrophobic infatuation, and Tony’s exotic ego. As always with the New Vic, it takes a top performer to convince an audience in such a small space, and on the whole the cast don’t disappoint.

Keiff (who's starred in the West End's Legally Blonde and Wicked) draws your eyes to her every second she’s on stage, coaxing and sneering with her fantastic vocals. She is as bold and beautiful as you’d expect from the infamous character and doesn’t disappoint for the most anticipated songs. She’s accompanied by a stellar set of girl friends who appear to belt out the big tunes with ease, particularly Fran (Lynne Wilmot), but unfortunately Moors (who's recently been understudying Jason Donovan in the West End's Sound of Music) is the only male to fill the big boots of Bizet’s sporting champion.

At times I felt the concept was more impressive than the execution, as the carefully crafted lyrics were sometimes so intricate and quick you couldn’t follow the story – it’s understandable, though, that the poetic French language won’t always translate well into street-speak English. However, the Toreador song’s “Tony Amor – the one’s the girls adore” fits perfectly, and Carmen’s seductive offer to get her drunk at a “well dodgy wine bar” (it’s Friday night and she wants some action!) in Pres des remparts de Seville demonstrate strokes of creative genius.

Videos that played over scene changes added a fun element and showed news reports about Tony's skilful scoring (both on and off the pitch!) and adverts for his expensive merchandise, and Carmen stating that she got her exotic name because her mum got pregnant in Ibiza is just one of the many witty lines.

And I have to mention musical director Richard Atkinson, who, tucked away in the corner, controlled the famous score as a one-man-band, occasionally accompanied by members of the cast on various instruments.

Beneath it all lies a critique of modern hero-worship, rip-off merchandise prices, and a world of sexual promiscuity and shoplifting, but overall I felt this was used more as a recognisable setting for the fantastic opera than as social commentary.

Fans of the original may despair at the mere thought of a classic being 'butchered' in this way – as one audience member commented that Monks’ Carmen is more musical than opera – but there is a playful affection for the original and the re-working has clearly been executed with knowledge and respect. Opera-shy audiences will be pleasantly surprised and you’ll be humming it for days!