Having been an audio production by Lepus Productions around the pandemic, Keli, now in full theatrical mode, tells the tale of a 17-year-old who is having to deal with a mentally unwell mother whilst holding down a far from inspiring job at Scot Mid, and they are also being touted as the next big thing in the local brass band. And with the Snaresbrook Brass Band, Keli is off to the Royal Albert Hall where she will be providing the solo that the leader of the band, Brian, believes she is going to nail—1,000%. Keli struggles with the three—her job, her mother and her musicality—whilst also keeping a level head about her.
The pressure cooker is too much when at the Royal Albert Hall, in the biggest night of the band’s life for decades since the legendary Willie Knox won the national competition way back when, Keli cannot play a note in her solo, goes off the rails, storms out of the band, gets thrown out of the band and, after being unable to perform in the Royal Albert Hall, she shines brightly in a club in the middle of London but loses her horn—which belongs to the band and is rather expensive. She now has to get home and find a brass instrument to hand in—and so when she breaks into Snaresbrook Hall to steal the legendary horn—the one made for the legendary Willie Knox—Keli descends into a fantastical mine where she meets 150+ year old Willie Knox, the legend himself…
Knox then guides her back through her story to tell the tale and learn the lessons of her last few days.
Bryony Shanahan has a lot to work with here. The power of the brass band, the leap of faith the script asks that a London night club would resonate to the sound of a French horn, the legacy of the Miners' Strike and the ghost of a 150-year-old miner. Skilfully, we are never far from believing in it all.
There is an acute understanding of the emotional rollercoaster that it took for mining communities during the strike where individuals were pitted against each other, in this case, Keli's grandfather and her bandleader, Brian. We also have a sensitive but honest portrayal of mental ill health and how we fail to support either the people who have to care—the families—and the ones suffering and crippled by it—here it is Keli’s mum.
Merging into all of that is the majesty of the music from the Whitburn Brass Band and Kingdom Brass, which heralds it all in Martin Green’s score with a collective sigh on a euphonium.
The combination of Green’s script, his score and Shanahan’s direction shows the anger and angst of Brian fighting against his world and Kel,i her anger and angst fighting against every world towards a tragedy averted—eventually—by collective musicianship and the acoustic majesty of a tower.
The music has a very special place, and by the end when the full band is on and the final few bars of the finale are played for us, there are hairs standing on end. It is not just poignant but highly effective.
That poignancy is supported by the stellar cast. They avoid mum, Jane becoming a pitiful figure, and Brian and Willie manage to convey both fury and wisdom with the subtlety of their own theatrical experiences. Textually, both Amy and Saskia feel more functional than rounded. Performances throughout from Liberty Black (Keli), Karen Fishwick (Jayne), Olivia Hemmati (Amy / Saskia), Billy Mack (Willie Knox) and Phil McKee (Brian) shine as brightly as the entire brass section on display.
As Keli, Liberty Black is sneaky, opinionated, strong, stroppy, vulnerable, traumatised, torn, terrified, excited, muddle thinking, wrong-headed, heart on the sleeve and a typical 17-year-old. All she needs is a cuddle, and there's nobody out there to give it, played to absolute perfection.
Brian's anger is poised on a knife edge. In turn, he is prickly, proud, resentful, unapologetic, traumatised, tiresome, demanding, old enough to know better, never old enough to do better, not old enough to see enough and appalled by what he sees and saw whilst behaving appallingly.
Billy Mack as Knox, The Sage, provides the gravitas in comparison to the profane Keli, until he rescues her from the pits into which she has plunged and sends her on her way. The triumvirate of Black, Mack and McKee power this through with such skill and generosity between them that the power of the music is well matched by their performances.
Technically, there is a lot going on—the set manages to frame the interactions well in the exchanges around the mining but works less well in the night club. The lighting is dramatic and heightens the tension whilst adding to the park bench and the supermarket atmospherically.
This may have one foot firmly in the past, but with the stories of the local, the notes sound very global.