Ben Kenwright's production of Oscar Wilde's Lord Arthur Savile's Crime, based on Trevor Baxter's adaptation and directed by Christopher Luscombe, sees Any Dream Will Do winner Lee Mead take to the stage in his comedy drama debut. Alongside Gary Wilmot, Louisa Clein, Kate O'Mara and Derren Nesbitt, Mead's performance at the Sheffield Lyceum's opening night as Wilde's Victorian London aristocrat, Lord Arthur, proves he is more than just a pretty boy with a good voice.
Lord Arthur Savile is due to marry Sybil Merton (Louisa Clein) but a palm reading by the esteemed clairvoyant, Mr Podger (Gary Wilmot), foresees Lord Arthur will commit a murder in his future, leading the young gentleman to postpone his wedding.
Fearing he will kill his future wife, Lord Arthur considers which of his distant elderly relatives he could do away with instead. Enlisting the help of Mr Podger, Lord Arthur hatches various outrageous plots and plans to commit his crime before marrying Miss Merton.
Much of the press focus has been on Mead and his transition from the musical stage - which he does very well - and this is in danger of overshadowing what is a brilliant production. The play bounds along at a great and enjoyable pace full of Wilde's humour - which has succeeded in transcending time and culture - and some fantastic acting.
Kate O'Mara performs brilliantly as the frightfully wonderful London socialite Lady Windermere and David Moss plays a convincingly eccentric and confused Dean of Chicester. But it is the genius pairing of Mr Podger (Gary Wilmot) and the explosive German Herr Winkelkopf (Derren Nesbitt) that embodies Wilde's humour and carries the comedy through the darker moments. From curtain up, Mead perfectly executes his part, complete with Victorian London gentry accent and comic timing, showing he has got what it takes to be a well rounded stage actor.
The performance is enhanced by great set design for a travelling production, placing us in the heart of upper class Victorian London, and quality musicians, Anna McNicholas and Matthew Wycliffe, who sit on stage throughout, with Wycliffe making a brief entrance as a cockney copper patrolling Embankment.
Notable moments of opening night:
Lee Mead's wonderfully comical expressions.
Louisa Clein's off-stage violin duet with Anna McNicholas.
Gary Wilmot's punctuated egg and soldiers breakfast.
Derren Nesbitt's Herr Winkelkopf's Zorro-like entrances and exits.
Showing at Sheffield Lyceum for one week only until January 23rd 2010.
Box Office: 0114 249 6000 www.sheffieldtheatres.co.uk
Tonight I was asked a very important question by one of my longest, closest friends.
She asked me to be her bridesmaid. I naturally squealed at her and said yes. After all I've been secretly habouring a desire for her to ask me ever since the over-excited 'phone call when she announced she was engaged.
After the initial excitement and teasing died down, there was a moment of terror as it dawned on me. I haven't got a clue about what my new found role as bridesmaid entails. I could hazard a guess that there's a definite need for me to be massively organised. Something that I can do, although it doesn't come especially naturally.
But seriously, what does a bridesmaid actually do? She must be glamourous and look the part, but not so much she overshadows the bride. She's the glue that holds the bride together as she flits about the morning of her wedding. That's what the movies would have you believe.
The bridesmaid soothes, she calms, she is the voice of reason, she is the emotional support. She holds the dress up while the bride pees. Right ok, I can do that.
However a little bit of research courtesy of www.confetti.co.uk suggests that the role of bridesmaid goes much further than this. Not only have I got to hold my best friend's dress up when she pees, if we were living several centuries ago, I would be a shield against evil spirits which may attack the bride.
Then there's the whole predicament of whether I am chief bridesmaid or just a general one. My friend hasn't yet specified. She has confided that she has no idea who else she wants to ask. This bride is an only child, so there are no sisters to be an obvious choice. I somewhat think that by default I could land this additional title. And with it the additional responsibility.
I continued my research and discovered that aside from organisation and calmness I must also be enthusiastic about the wedding, focussed, in control of the day and ready to deal with even the most ludicrous of tears with a compassionate ear. This means understanding my friend's hysteria when the table cloths she wanted to be orange turn out to be lime green.
Is it too late to say no?! I wonder. According to confetti there are only five acceptable reasons for refusing this great honour of bridesmaid-hood.
Feeling I don't know the bride well enough.
No, that one won't do. I've known the bride since I was 13. That's over half my life. We have many a shared tale and adventure, not all suitable for the public domain.
Pregnancy.
I'm not and I'm not planning children into my life anytime soon.
Illness or disability.
Frankly I don't think I would let that stop me if they were an issue. I am a fit and healthy 24 year old however and bar some serious accident in the next 12 months I should be more than capable of assisting my friend in her big day.
A previous liaison with the groom.
Interesting one this one. I can safely say that this one also doesn't apply. My friend and the groom had been together at least a year when I first met him and I'm not that kind of girl.
A prior engagement.
With over a year's notice for my friend's wedding this is unlikely to be an excuse I can use even if I wanted to.
That settles it then, I'm going to be a bridesmaid. So help me God.