The performance began with the
same relaxed enthusiasm, as three of the Bunnington WI attend their monthly
meeting, to discover that they are invited to take part in the centenary
passing of the baton – a seemingly impossible feat given their dwindling
numbers. The speaker for the evening
offers to swell their ranks and begins to drag their little group into the 21st century, using her mobile phone and social media to organise the group’s
contribution. As the modernists come
toe-to-toe with the traditionalists, the group's fortunes unfold in front of us. The tale is interspersed with delightful
songs which showcased the company’s musical talents as they play (guitar, piccolo,
flute, clarinet, saxophone, accordion, and trombone) and sing acoustic
arrangements written by O’Hooley and Tidow (who are now widely recognised for
their contribution to Gentleman Jack). The
music is arranged by Rebekah Hughes – I wonder if she arranges to suit the
instruments the cast play or if the cast is found to suit the instruments? - either way, it was seamless, as they slipped from vocals to trombone to flute.
As with the best musicals, the songs served to enhance the drama and my MD
companion was thoroughly delighted by the musical argument that took place
toward the end of Act 1.
The evening was eventually to
take us through the entire 100-year history of the Women's Institute. Now, I’m not a member of the WI but, I live
in a town with a strong WI membership (and I have seen Calendar Girls!), yet I
came away with a richer knowledge of and greater appreciation for the Institute. The script is packed with references to the
WI’s achievements in social history (free school milk, child benefit, billeting
evacuees, the list is long!). Referring
to them as “wolves in twinsets, camouflaged in convention”, writer Maeve Larkin
is clearly in awe of the women and work of the WI – and maybe we all should be!
At some point in the performance,
I realised I had not stopped smiling. The four cast members were so joyful in their delivery, it was
infectious. James McLean is clearly a
stalwart member of the Mikron family, he and Thomas Cortan are both returning
performers. As I have already mentioned
they took their parts as females very much in their stride and provided the
perfect middle-aged foil to Hannah Bainbridge and Alice McKenna’s more youthful
personas. There was a nice range of
voices here and they blended well for dialogue and for singing.
If you’re touring dozens of small
venues by barge or van your staging must be simple, and this was a very basic
trifold wall with a hatch. It served its
purpose adequately, but I was put off on two counts: first, I was put out by
the placement of the photocopied crochet – I couldn’t help but feel that any WI
crafter worth her salt would have given a word of advice on that score; and
second, I found the lilac colour insipid and not at all in keeping with the
strong costume colours of the WI members. I suspect this was an attempt to give
the hall a dated unloved feel, but it jarred somehow. These were both minor niggles in the scheme
of things. What I did enjoy was the use
of extra costume elements that allowed these four actors to depict farm
workers, gentlewomen, teenagers, single-mums, politicians, and myriad
others. How they kept track of their
pipes, bonnets and collars was beyond me – a triumph for director Rachel Gee!
Mikron Theatre Company is
celebrating it’s 50th anniversary this year. How does a little company keep going for that
long? I didn’t get a chance to ask them, but my guess is – it’s because they
know what they do, they do it well and they don’t try to be what they’re
not. Ostensibly, Mikron’s USP is the
touring on a canal-barge thing. After all, I don’t know of any others that do
this – but what I took home from this performance, is that if you put 4
talented performers on stage with their instruments and a strong script, you
can make magic.
Reviewer - Justine Sutcliffe
on - 16.4.22
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