There is perhaps a thing of getting too cosy in the BT. When your coat is brushing the arm of the acoustic guitarist, as he manfully tries to ignore you scribbling away and openly judging his show, things have possibly got beyond the “intimate” setting of theatre-in-the-round, and into the realms of awkward. And sitting so close to a miked-up three-man band – surely I won’t here the singers?  I thought, as I tried not to thwack the music stand by flinging open my notebook too enthusiastically.

I need not have worried. The haunting a capella voice of Ellen Timothy, who plays the narrator in this surprisingly thought-provoking musical, soon rose above the transfixed audience. The music was always going to be great – In Her Eyes was written by the very same Toby Huelin of Theory of Justice success, but what I hadn’t counted on was an added depth and sensitivity of this second work of art. Without giving too much away, what describes itself as a “dark musical without the jazz hands”, is more like an opera that soars and plunges between euphoric ballads, catchy tunes, and aggressively clashing melodies.

The all-female seven-strong cast were a highly talented bunch, whose powerful voices brought a depth to their multi-part harmonies. The mysterious figure of “Jamie”, the inexplicably destructive boyfriend of the protagonist Freddie (Rachel Coll), never appears on stage. Apparently he’s on the other end of the phone, or just behind the audience, but never is the threatening phantom figure allowed to trespass into the arena of our vision.

It was also easy to forget the fact that these Oxford students were all about my age; the five “teenage” actresses transformed into delightfully bitchy, flouncy and awkward beings of school-age, without ever dipping a toe into the waters of stereotype. By stroke of luck or genius, the four “popular” girls are played by four fairly petite actresses, so that the already isolated Freddie towers elegant but out of place above them. Particular mention should go to Sasha, (Sarah Mansfield), who storms around small and shiny and smiling with the rest of her friends, but whose character also wrestles with believable guilt about the group’s behaviour towards Freddie.

Following the rise and fall of a tragedy, this musical builds to a mingling interweaving climax of harmonies between chorus, mother, narrator and protagonist, and then ends in the only prolonged speech of the play, and a blackout. The moments of stunned silence before the applause were concrete proof of the success of the evening. I even managed not to knock the guitarist’s music stand over. 

When Nir Paldi did his military service in the Israel Defence Forces, he was not your average soldier. The young Israeli spent his three years in uniform teaching theatre in underprivileged communities and putting on musicals such as “Hair”. This type of contrast is exactly what characterises his latest theatrical endeavour, “Ballad of the Burning Star”, which broaches topics like the Holocaust and the Intifadas through the medium of cross-dressing and cabaret.

The “Theatre Ad Infinitum” is a multi-award winning theatre company, led by Nir Paldi, George Mann and Amy Nostbakken. It first rocketed to fame in 2008 at the Edinburgh Festival with its show ‘Behind the Mirror’ about the bizarre love affair between a woman, a man and the man’s reflection in the mirror. All of the company’s 80-minute productions are innovative in both style and content, but “Ballad of the Burning Star” seems to be the most ambitious venture yet.

When I ask Nir to give a short description of the show, he replies: ‘It is complicated to explain, but it’s really not very complicated as a piece of art, it’s very accessible.’ He describes it as a ‘story of an Israeli boy who goes through a lot of typical Israeli experiences – the whole background of the Holocaust, losing members of his family to terror attacks. During his involvement in the military he commits a crime and changes from a victim to an executioner in a very typical manner.’

Nir says that the story is semi-autobiographical. Born in Jerusalem – Israel’s historical and religious capital  – Nir spent his childhood living in the disputed Palestinian territories, before moving to Tel Aviv as a teenager, and then to Paris. His experience in Paris was ‘very important for the creation of the piece’: ‘when you grow up in Israel as a Jew, you’re very mainstream and you don’t necessarily feel Jewish. But when I moved abroad I was suddenly ‘the Jewish guy’. It added to my feeling of confusion about who I was in terms of my national identity.’

As the Arab-Israeli conflict is one of the highly divisive issues of our time, any form of entertainment that deals with it is instantly controversial. But Nir explains that he tries to avoid the political debate by focusing ‘on the human story, a very complex human story’.

One of Nir’s main goals with the show – and perhaps the most complicated – is ‘to relate both sides’. He seems to have achieved this: he recounts how ‘after one show I got two people approaching me. One said – ‘this is so pro-Palestinian, you’re completely one-sided’ and the other said – ‘this is pro-Israeli, you’re completely one-sided’. With this kind of show it is very difficult to say. With the reality, too, it is very difficult to say.’

In discussing the Arab-Israeli conflict Nir conveys both resignation about its deeply complicated nature and hope of being able to soften people’s normally one-sided view of it. ‘People have so little hope and are so cynical about everything. Believing that there might be peace one day is radical. They look at you as if to say ‘Grow the fuck up’. But I think the show is hopeful in that it fosters dialogue. It makes people talk, so even if they disagree with the piece or they feel angry about it, it causes there to be dialogue. That was my intention – to create a discussion, build bridges between people and make them see that the other side is not just the ‘enemy’, but also a person, a human being.”

When I ask him why he decided to present a narrative – which he himself describes as having some very ‘hard-core themes’ – in such a seemingly light-hearted way, he gives a whole host of different reasons. Nir (who both conceived the idea of the show and plays the drag queen protagonist) explains that he chose to present it in this way in order to simultaneously generate a sense of distance and directness.

 ‘One of the main reasons that I decided to present the show through cabaret and drag was to create a bit of distance. The reality in Israel and Palestine is violent and aggressive. So although the story is very human and very emotive, I thought that the nature of the piece’s subject matter required some kind of distancing between the performers and the audience.’

‘Being a man in drag gives you the freedom to say whatever it is you want to say, to be very direct and rude and flamboyant. I chose cabaret because of its ability to involve the audience – to bring them into the story and then in some way betray them and play with them.’

Will his next show be in the same vein as “The Ballad of the Burning Star”?   Nir assures me that the next show by “Theatre ad Infinitum” will certainly be ‘very very different’: it will deal with the Edward Snowden revelations, and will be ready for the Edinburgh Festival.

But he states that he, as an artist, outside of the company, ‘will always deal with this topic’. ‘Israel is a part of me, emotionally and intellectually. Some people take a very strong one-sided approach, but I feel like I can’t. I can’t escape the complexity. And that’s very painful.’ 

At the preview for this production of the Arthurian and chivalric epic Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, director Jonny Sell insisted his work was “simple”. However, I soon discovered that this unusual combination of puppets, medieval costume and singing all in one was, in fact, anything but.

As an ardent medievalist, I was especially excited about this production, but worried that it might be too niche. However, Sellin’s creativity and enthusiasm promise to alleviate these worries. The production features hand-made puppets, which were still in progress when I saw them, but they should cut an impressive presence in the O’Reilly theatre. The dominant green head of the eponymous ‘Green Knight’ is particularly impressive and ‘Tarquin’ – as the cast have named him – the wild boar should add to the natural, yet dramatic, aesthetic Sellin is aiming for. The staging of the production promises to be a star in itself; with a roof of sticks to emulate a glade and lighting to capture the sense of journey and quest integral to this chivalric epic.

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is difficult to define, as Sellin explained to me; however the cast seem to have come to grips with their epic, mythical characters.  Duncan Cornish embodies the naivety necessary for the chivalric hero of the story. Jack Noutch’s King Arthur is especially striking; he captures the multifaceted nature of Arthur’s character of a veneer of authority mixed with his complex personal relationship with his wife, Guinevere, with great skill. James Mooney’s Merlin is perhaps the star performance; his manipulation of voice and body-language is impressive, capturing the ethereal and mysterious nature of the wizard with great poise. The female roles were underplayed in the preview; however Sellin’s explanation of Morgan le Fey haunting the erstwhile Sir Gawain, should make the production especially dramatic.

The complexity of the staging and the characters makes this production a mammoth task for all the cast and crew. I worry it is overambitious but if everything comes together it should be a multi-layered and unmissable production.

Set in the Paris Ritz in at the height of the roaring twenties, Semi-Monde takes on a spectrum of interwoven story-lines and promises a thrilling evening’s viewing. Brimming with champagne and edged with unconventional morality, as well as the classic characters you’d expect of any Coward,  the show which was censored in its own day proves wonderfully entertaining in ours. Originally written in 1926, the play was not performed until the late 70s because the sexuality of its content was deemed to be too scandalous to be seen on stage. A relatively little-known play as a result of this long period without a production, the forthcoming run at the Oxford Playhouse promises to well and truly dispel this obscurity and silence.

Composed of a series of vignettes, the plot flits between brief excerpts from the complicated and entangled lives of the various guests. From brash American accents to mysterious strangers lurking in the corners, the scenes are heady and cosmopolitan; forging a delicate path between sophistication and vulgarity, superficiality and depth. The script contains the usual mixture of subtext-heavy dialogue and  brilliantly understated wit that is to be expected from one of Coward’s plays. The inherent need for fluidity in the piece, as well as its variety, promise to make the evening a very exciting event.

Directed and chosen by Carla Kingham, the cast of 28 actors consists of a variety of students, from freshers to finalists, and was intended by Kingham to bring new people into university drama and discover fresh talent. This has certainly been achieved, the cast is energetic and enthusiastic; full of life and zeal, and this has certainly been in order. Rehearsals started at the beginning of Hilary, and putting such a complex and large-scale show together in the space of four weeks has certainly been a challenge; and a great achievement. In order to get ready for their 5^th week performance, the cast are rehearsing intensely throughout 4^th.

The evening promises to be a truly spectacular occasion, full of fun both on stage and off. Great lengths have been gone to to achieve authenticity; a jazz band will form part of the performance and, very excitingly, a working bar will be installed in the Playhouse throughout.  A perfect way to drive out 5^th week blues; not to be missed!

Something must appeal to Oxford about early twentieth century German serial killers. Normal, a play about Peter Kurten, the Düsseldorf Ripper,was showing at the BT, and this Monday Fritz Lang’s film M, which may have been inspired by the same man,was on at the Magdalen auditorium. Perhaps it’s just the time of term – the well-known pre-fifth-week-blues serial killing urge.

Their crimes were of a similar stature but, unlike Jack, the Düsseldorf Ripper got found out, tried, and executed. Normal dramatises the relationship between Kurten and his lawyer Justus Wehner, who naively believes, “Sane people don’t want destruction. Sane people don’t murder” – to win the case Wehner sets out to prove to the judge and jury that Kurten is insane. Cue cat-and-mouse scenes in which Kurten manipulates Wehner and shatters his innocently bourgeois attitude to life.

The play itself is no masterpiece. Although the main action is set in 1930, Normal begins with Wehner reminiscing after the Second World War: the result is an excessive amount of explanation, coupled with some trite and explicit moralising about what normal Germans did under the Third Reich. But the cast act well. Alex Shavick gets across the controlled and yet terrifying slippage of Wehner’s world view, and his crisp accent suits the role. Emily Troup is convincing as former-prostitute-turned-homely-wife Frau Kurten; her blonde hair and frumpy costume make her look German, too. Misha Pinnington, who plays Peter Kurten, does well but is not ultimately convincing in a male part; a curious sexual tension develops between Kurten and Wehner, which is not borne out by the script and rather undermines the sense of macho competition.

A notable aspect of this production is the set-up of the BT: there are four banks of seats, creating an effect much like being in the round. The Studio, so often cramped, seems cavernous. Many plays could usefully imitate this arrangement and Sami Ibrahim’s direction of his actors in it. But, while technically impressive, this set-up seems a strange choice for a play involving so few characters and which relies on a sense of claustrophobia, especially in the scenes between Kurten and Wehner.

This production of Normal rises far above most of the nonsense to which the BT is home, but, hampered by the decision to cross-cast Kurten and increase the spaciousness of the Studio, it fails to approach the standards of the best of Oxford drama. Frankly, it is rather normal.