The Secret Garden

Is there a better venue to take in an amateur show in the region than the Art Centre at the Guildhall of St George?  I say this not to be overly (and unnecessarily) hyperbolic, nor to flatter those who traditionally man the stage there.  In fact, just a matter of months ago, I had the privilege of sharing this same stage with this same society but not these same players – save one – in their production of Into The Woods and had a magnificent time.  I’ve seen a few musicals at the venue but wondered how the intimacy of a play would be a space with the massive culture cache of the Guildhall.  Now that I’ve recognised any pre-existing biases, we commence.

I expect the tale of The Secret Garden may be commonplace for the majority of you but please humour me with the following synopsis:  Mary Lennox, a 10 year old orphan, is sent to live with her widower uncle in Yorkshire.  Peerless, Mary plays and wanders the grounds of the Manor, until she discovers two secrets.  The first being a locked-up garden, a discarded memoir of her late Aunt; the second, an equally discarded cousin, Colin, thought chronically and mortally ill.  With a little nurturing and tough love, a series of transformations occur in Mary Lennox, Colin, Lord Craven, all represented in the rebirth of the titular garden.  These transformations leave the entirety of the company in a better place than when the audience meets them.

This does bring up a proverbial fly in the ointment: The Secret Garden, is by no means a favourite of mine.  At first, I wondered if it were some sort of Canadian cultural black hole that left my heart unfeeling and distant. However, this was corrected when a fellow North American emigre shared his fondness for the show and I’m left without an easy escape.  As Andy Pipkin might say, I don’t like it.

Before the pitchforks come out, let me defend my position by saying that I understand the appeal of the show for some and the imagery is clear (if a little one note and heavy handed).  It’s just that the piece generally moves along in a very linear fashion without much in the way of unexpected movement in the plot.  Whilst I understand that you’re not going to see a necessarily sophisticated narrative structure in a children’s story, surely there’s room for some setback at sometime for any of our characters rather than a series of successive triumphs.  In The Secret Garden, you can see at the start of Act I where the finish line is going to appear and we get there without any real obstacles.  It’s a story with the cheat codes turned on. 

Most often, Secret Garden, is presented in musical form, which comes with its own valleys and peaks.  The former being that the inclusion of half-dozen or more songs can severely bloat the piece, with the pace slowing to little more than a slow plod as we communally watch the grass grow.  The latter being that it does afford the cast an opportunity to let the melodies and other such musical structures develop the characters which can certainly be an advantage when working with young actors as such a piece demands.  I commend the Kings Lynn Players for choosing to stage the show sans melodies, and wished director Tom Watson well in a chance meeting at the Globe earlier in the evening.  So I walked by the traditional photo montage, with the best programme in the region (Chris Fox) in my hand and sat down fully prepared to let the magic of the Secret Garden resuscitate the parts of my heart that were dead inside.

The set (design by Tom Watson, Chris Fox, Seamus Power, and Stuart Miller, construction by Chris Fox, Seamus Power, Stuart Miller, Anna Hayter, and the Mononymous Walter) chose to highlight the garden above most other elements which was absolutely the perfect call.  The focus of the aesthetic was primarily on the barren garden and the expectation that it would not remain that way.  Its transformation linking tightly with the character development that it was symbolizing.  Lighting and Sound (Nic Watkins, and Scott Hunter, effects by Stuart Miller) was a strength throughout.  This can be a challenge when considering the presence of child actors who are somewhat notorious for a lack of projection and/or volume.  The opening of the piece is the first tricky decision for directors in how it is to be presented and Tom Watson opted for the roles of Mary’s parents at the start of Act I to be presented through pre-recorded dialogue.  While this was effective in isolating Mary Lennox, the editing of the recordings could have been a touch tighter, as there were some slight discomfort in the length of pauses between successive pre-recorded lines.  Costumes (Harveys Costumes, Sharon Fox, and Cast) were magnificent.  With a slightly minimalist set (when outside of the aforementioned garden), this was of the utmost import and effortlessly added so much to the establishment of the Edwardian Yorkshire setting.  As a side note, it is verging on criminal to send the imported Canadian, on his first review, to a show with such a heavy focus on the Yorkshire accent.  

It’s sometimes challenging to incorporate a large chorus of children and/or puppets in a pseudo-serious piece such as this but there were no such pitfalls here.  Puppets (Chris Fox) were quite charming and only had this appeal amplified by the wonderful presentation by Scarlet Foreman, Emily Coates, Bella and Poppy Guyatt, Annie Overton, and Kiera Clarke.  Several of these puppeteers were featured separately in dancing roles during the transformation of the titular garden in Act II adding more than a touch of grace and magic to enhance the key visual image of the show. 

In the supporting roles, I was at first concerned by the presence of Teresa Sharp as Mrs Medlock, because I thought her perhaps too naturally likeable to play the sharp-tongued matriarch of the lower house.  However, Ms Sharp soon found her sea legs (garden legs?) and subsequent scenes were pulled off with a spiteful coldness that created laughter and disdain in the audience as appropriate, a compliment, I promise.  Wesley Harper was superb as Dickon, choosing to play the role with a quiet charm and calm charisma.  Whether this was Harper’s choice or a direction from Mr Watson, it was a shrewd choice for a show that demands so much volume and abrasiveness from its two young leads.  Dickon is the counterpoint to both leads and his tone is imperative to the development of their characters, and with Wesley it felt a natural progression where this easily could have come off more forced or contrived.   Stephen Hayter was a much anticipated performance as Lord Craven, and while I jokingly told him afterwards that I enjoyed both his lines, Mr Hayter took what could have been a quickly forgotten part or apathetic cameo and ensured there was not an ounce of wasted time or movement whilst on the stage.  I would love to deliver some witty repartee or caveat here, but I cannot.  There were audible gasps of emotion around me when Craven lunged with a cocktail of melancholy, regret, hope, and newly-won redemption towards his son Colin in the show’s final moments. 

Potentially overlooked in the plethora of transformations of our larger characters is that of the resident gardener, Ben Weatherstaff, who much like Lord Craven, has lost something in the death of Lady Craven that needs to be reawakened.  John West is the only member of this cast that I have been privileged to have shared the stage with and I feel it my duty to state that he is among the nicest people I have had the pleasure to meet in this racket we call amateur dramatics.  I felt that during his turn in the aforementioned Into The Woods, Mr West didn’t receive a fraction of the laughs he was deserved.  Perhaps the audience were saving such a response for this role.  In the (potentially sickly) sweet crescendo towards the end of Act II, it is Ben who serves as the harbinger of some much needed comic relief, and Fox’s deadpan delivery in Act I set up every punchline in Act II.  I laughed until my sides hurt, a testament to an actor finding their magic in their every opportunity whilst at the same time truly understanding the development of their character throughout the entirety of the show. 

The character of Martha is absolutely essential in launching the show into the development of its characters through the challenging of Mary Lennox early in Act I.  I understand that Georgia Dawson (Guildford bound, I hear), was a late substitution to the part – not that I would have ever known - and the show was so much stronger for her inclusion.  I have no superlatives to further the forthcoming statement, I found her performance to be absolutely faultless (I will acquiesce that I’m assuming the accent was spot on but I’ll need some external validation on that fact to my colonial ear). Georgia presented a kind, challenging presence that is so important in reaching Mary Lennox who has known little of either kindness or challenge to this point.  I have seen other presentations of Secret Garden where Martha’s role was larger in script and would have welcomed a larger role for the Manor’s young maid.

All this being said, the story of The Secret Garden is really that of Mary and Collin though and as such, any judgment on the success of the show rests on their young shoulders. Both young actors are to be commended for the sheer volume of dialogue such a show requires and there are challenges for a director in staging a show that relies so heavily on young talent.  Max Fysh did a fine job in memorizing his tome of text and delivered the lines with a projection that was consistently excellent in audibility throughout - although I do wonder if the task of such memorization impacted on time for the development of the characterization of Colin Craven.  Some key changes in character felt missed by a consistency or concreteness in the delivery of his script.  Conversely, it is easy for Mary Lennox to be delivered in a manner of a freight train, simply ploughing through the other characters in the show with yells of defiance and rudeness in Act I turning into bellows of challenge to Colin in midparts, before hollering at how good life has turned out in our conclusion.  However, Freya Golding was able to highlight the journey of Mary Lennox in her entire performance with subtle changes in characterization and save for a few volume hiccoughs in Act II, did so without any significant detractions. She was a very good Mary Lennox and Tom Watson should be commended for getting so much out of his young cast.  If there is a caveat, it would be in scenes when Fysh and Golding share the stage alone.  In such instances, the speed of the dialogue tended to run away and snowball.  This resulted in the impact of certain key moments being undercut and their impact lessened.  These are rich moments that would have benefitted from the use of pauses and silence to give the narrative and transformations a chance to breathe, and ironically, to grow.  Without these moments to reflect some of the transformations seemed to turn on a pinhead.  This is again where the presence of the more experience hands of Georgia Dawson, Wes Harper (can I call you Wes?), and John West were invaluable in giving the scene room to stretch out and for the audience the opportunity to let the magic in.

Wouldn’t it be great copy if I finished this review by stating the magic of the show had one final transformation, and that was in my heart, as I now realise and recognise the intricate value present in The Secret Garden?  Sadly, my heart is still locked on that matter.  The show itself was a tidy 80 minutes of stage time which ensured the show doesn’t labour the point but as mentioned previously, did feel as though it did run by at times with a certain abandon.  I fully acknowledge that could have been opening day nerves (especially in the younger actors) and that these hiccoughs were likely corrected on subsequent performances.  Moreover, I say without qualification, that my resonance to the title doesn’t diminish how much I thoroughly enjoyed myself at this performance.  The acting quality of the entire ensemble was to a high standard and the technical side did more than support the aforementioned performances.  I saw hordes of beaming faces in the audience at intermission, with delighted buzzes of satisfaction after the curtain went down.  Tom, you’ve overseen the worst-kept secret in the region this spring and my congratulations to you for doing so.

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