29 June – 4 July
We are living through a time when certainties about the ‘normal’ have come in for a bit of a cultural MOT. ‘Neuro diversity’, we now know, is but one aspect of the rich tapestry of humankind. Thus are moral discoveries made and we get better (hopefully) at being who we are. Writers, playwrights amongst them have not been slow to take up the baton with varying degrees of success, opening our eyes and moving us to oppugn accepted paradigms of normality. This is something theatre arguably does best.
The writer, Peter Quilter, has previously given us, Glorious, a play about the delusional Florence Foster Jenkins, who in the face of incontrovertible evidence as to why she should not, nevertheless managed to become a celebrated opera singer, albeit for the wrong reasons. His Allegra, who he tells us in the programme notes was inspired by a real person he once met in a Spanish care home, is a fantasist of an altogether different stripe; a happy singleton for whom, ‘Spreading joy’ is the norm. The problem, as her devoted and loving brother (JohnMiddleton) explains, is that the folk in the library, the hair dresser’s, the baker’s and elsewhere are not quite ready to share the joy that her internal musical score prompts her to give voice to.
The audience on the other hand have privileged access to her inner life via episodes where the other action onstage freezes and she is bathed in her own spotlight as the inner becomes manifest. On other occasions everyone is drawn in to her parallel life; her brother, the carer (Elizabeth Bower) the friendly policeman (Bailey Patrick), and on a couple of occasions the audience, who find themselves lured into some community singing.
Matters come to a head when complaints are made to the police and a resulting court case leads to a stipulation of chemical intervention. It’s an easy win for the writer when a drugged Allegra is revealed as a mere shadow of herself and our emotions are of course tinged with sorrow. However the weakness of the play is that I wanted to be outraged. Act one is taken up with inconsequential chit chat, character defining yet leading nowhere. Not until the second act is there any sense of jeopardy which might have had the audience rushing back after the interval had it been introduced earlier. By the time events had started to move along the outcome was predictable.
Maureen Lipman’s versatility is nothing if not perfect for the part, finding her dancing and singing with a joie de vivre which seems to belie the solitary existence that concerns her brother. Deft articulation and subtle moments of confusion round out a well observed and endearing character clearly happy in her own skin. The play is undoubtedly a vehicle for her talents, but could have been a lot more.
This is a play with a kernel of gold, which despite the seductive skills of Ms Lipman is not quite ready for the assayer’s stamp.
★★★☆☆. Graham Wyles, 30 June 2026
Photography credit: Marc Brenner
