★★★✰✰
Twice Nightly is inherently designed for the tiny stage that it stands upon in the studio at the Royal Court Theatre, Liverpool – and whilst it is touring, I doubt any of the other venues will sell the setting of the tiny dressing rooms of the variety clubs of the 1930s as well as the crowded tables and heat do here. You are immediately transported to 1931 as Don and Madge, in between their twice-nightly slots at a variety performance, are arrested, and have no idea why. Through misunderstandings, mishaps and mayhem, they come to tell the judge of their entire life in show business, including how they met and first performed together.
The play is certainly an homage to the golden age of variety, and this is conveyed most clearly through the songs, penned by composer and musical director Jessica Dives. They are toe-tapping and catchy, destined to stay in your head, as are the gold sequins and red feathers of the costumes. There is a glitz and a glamour that is unmistakable to the era that permeates every moment of the show. Also unmistakable is the voice of Joe Pasquale, who, though not there in person, lends his voice to the production and makes a side-splitting addition to the cast.
There is an exaggeration to the performance that does fall in with the variety nature of the show, though does take some getting used to, feeling a little unnatural at first. What feels most jolting, however, is the length of each scene: with the characters bouncing back and forth between time periods with each turn of the scenery to show a location change as they tell stories of their times onstage, everything feels very drawn out. Whilst it is all leading somewhere, it takes a very long time to arrive, and the songs feel uncomfortably short in comparison. When you reach the conclusion of the play, it does border on the anticlimactic, and leaves you questioning why the big, glamourous show you have just watched has just stumbled to a finish so suddenly.
What gives the show its “star billing” at the variety is undoubtedly the performances. Maria Lovelady could have fallen out of a silent picture, moving with a grace and eloquence that is showbiz at it’s finest. Michael Alan-Bailey plays a bumbling partner in crime with ease and a natural swagger and charm. The chemistry between the two borders on the electric.
Every moment of Twice Nightly feels big, brash and louder than life. It feels exaggerated – possibly too much – and as though you are back in the 1930s. You do come away believing in the power of the variety performer once again, though maybe the length of the show is enough belief for now.
Words by Jess Boot-Cowie
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