A gentleman in, I imagine, his early 70s eased himself into the seat next to mine. He was big, bald and a conversationalist. “I was into ‘Northern’ big time,” he told me. “I was one of the first. It started in Stoke. The Golden Torch in Tunstall, around 1965. Dancing to records imported from America that no one else got to hear and it was bloody great! Till it burnt down”.
The New Vic was bulging with his like, all come to pay homage to a wonderful youth spent dancing to Northern Soul. The show’s title comes from the rare, rediscovered Frank Wilson record that sold for a fortune in 2020.
That headline spawned a brilliant idea and once John Godber had thought of it, he could barely have put either foot wrong.
It’s a canny concept. Rather than see the phenomena through the eyes of aging individuals who were there in its heyday, his central characters are three well-educated but disillusioned twenty somethings.
The discovery of a stack of old 45s in grandma’s attic leads them to a revived all-nighter at the music mecca of Cleethorpes where they are ‘Godber-smacked’ by the sight and sound of several hundred senior citizens gliding and stomping to ‘tunes’ being played by a DJ older than their grandad. “Its music for people with nowt. Eight hours dancing for just 3 quid”. Once they cross the line, they are hooked just like the previous generation.
Godber had been there himself back in the day, so the smell and sound of absolute authenticity is riven through the play. But he’s also here and now, in our present plethora of social crises; of street violence, 4-hour A&E waits, dead-end fast-food jobs and rising bus fares all presided over, Gran says, “by a Prime Minster who looks eleven”. The escape from this wasteland is the weekend dance floor.
Godber has cunningly assembled his magical material and put it in the hands of three superb young actors. Emilio Encinoso-Gil, Chloe McDonald and Martha Godber excel in dance, dialogue and group dynamics. Martha has clearly inherited her dad’s genius genes and having lived so long with his humour, knows just how much she can delay a punchline to get the biggest laugh. Their top-quality rat-a-tat banter is painfully funny, set against the lives they are having to live as graduates, selling buckets of fries at a drive-through. They delight at taking the micky out of their characters. Their chorus work is so tight, it heightens the humour, calling out ‘tune’ whenever a new record comes on or intoning ‘move along to the next window’ to invisible customers at the chicken-joint.
There is a no shortage of infectious music (though there could have been more) and they have learned the trademark dance moves from the best in the business. Choreographer Sally Molloy was crowned World Northern Soul Dance Champion at Blackpool Tower Ballroom and has her students visibly graduate on stage from stumbling shufflers to dance floor acrobats. The moves are often angular and ungainly, but endlessly energetic and enviable; supplemented by precision hand claps and an unavoidable necessity to mouth all the words whilst doing it.
Their goal is to also get to Blackpool and to be just another three disciples amongst three thousand without making prats of themselves. Will they blend in seamlessly? What do you think?
Mr Godber has struck gold with this one. My veteran neighbour was in tears of nostalgia by half time and delirious at the standing ovation. And because of the device of seeing it all through three pairs of present-day eyes, so were the younger audience members too. It was so enjoyable it really could have gone on all night.
A gentleman in, I imagine, his early 70s eased himself into the seat next to mine. He was big, bald and a conversationalist. “I was into ‘Northern’ big time,” he told me. “I was one of the first. It started in Stoke. The Golden Torch in Tunstall, around 1965. Dancing to records imported from America that no one else got to hear and it was bloody great! Till it burnt down”.
The New Vic was bulging with his like, all come to pay homage to a wonderful youth spent dancing to Northern Soul. The show’s title comes from the rare, rediscovered Frank Wilson record that sold for a fortune in 2020.
That headline spawned a brilliant idea and once John Godber had thought of it, he could barely have put either foot wrong.
It’s a canny concept. Rather than see the phenomena through the eyes of aging individuals who were there in its heyday, his central characters are three well-educated but disillusioned twenty somethings.
The discovery of a stack of old 45s in grandma’s attic leads them to a revived all-nighter at the music mecca of Cleethorpes where they are ‘Godber-smacked’ by the sight and sound of several hundred senior citizens gliding and stomping to ‘tunes’ being played by a DJ older than their grandad. “Its music for people with nowt. Eight hours dancing for just 3 quid”. Once they cross the line, they are hooked just like the previous generation.
Godber had been there himself back in the day, so the smell and sound of absolute authenticity is riven through the play. But he’s also here and now, in our present plethora of social crises; of street violence, 4-hour A&E waits, dead-end fast-food jobs and rising bus fares all presided over, Gran says, “by a Prime Minster who looks eleven”. The escape from this wasteland is the weekend dance floor.
Godber has cunningly assembled his magical material and put it in the hands of three superb young actors. Emilio Encinoso-Gil, Chloe McDonald and Martha Godber excel in dance, dialogue and group dynamics. Martha has clearly inherited her dad’s genius genes and having lived so long with his humour, knows just how much she can delay a punchline to get the biggest laugh. Their top-quality rat-a-tat banter is painfully funny, set against the lives they are having to live as graduates, selling buckets of fries at a drive-through. They delight at taking the micky out of their characters. Their chorus work is so tight, it heightens the humour, calling out ‘tune’ whenever a new record comes on or intoning ‘move along to the next window’ to invisible customers at the chicken-joint.
There is a no shortage of infectious music (though there could have been more) and they have learned the trademark dance moves from the best in the business. Choreographer Sally Molloy was crowned World Northern Soul Dance Champion at Blackpool Tower Ballroom and has her students visibly graduate on stage from stumbling shufflers to dance floor acrobats. The moves are often angular and ungainly, but endlessly energetic and enviable; supplemented by precision hand claps and an unavoidable necessity to mouth all the words whilst doing it.
Their goal is to also get to Blackpool and to be just another three disciples amongst three thousand without making prats of themselves. Will they blend in seamlessly? What do you think?
Mr Godber has struck gold with this one. My veteran neighbour was in tears of nostalgia by half time and delirious at the standing ovation. And because of the device of seeing it all through three pairs of present-day eyes, so were the younger audience members too. It was so enjoyable it really could have gone on all night.
Five stars
Reviewed by Chris Eldon Lee at the New Vic Theatre, Newcastle-under-Lyme on Tuesday 30 January. Do I Love You continues to show at the venue until Saturday 3 February.