Wilko certainly has that Feelgood factor

REVIEW: Wilko – Malvern Theatres (Tuesday, September 22 to Saturday, September 26). Saturday matinees 2.30pm.

Showtime! stars rating: * * * * *

TOLD that he had inoperable cancer, the Dr Feelgood guitar slinger did what every true rock ‘n’ roller should do - laugh in the face of the Grim Reaper, keep on hitting the strings… and go out rocking the joint.

As it turned out, that memorable 'farewell' tour was more au revoir, because the medics had got it wrong. There was actually a lot more juice left in the tank for the man who returned rock music to its rightful ancestral home which is, of course, early black R&B.

The most moving moment in writer Jonathan Maitland’s salute to the boy from Canvey Island deep down in the Thames Delta is when the doctors tell him the tumour is - after all - benign and can be removed.

For Johnson, it is glorious rebirth, a new beginning, he is the butterfly boogie man emerging from the chrysalis of dark night… the nearest thing in the world of rock to a Second Coming.

Maitland’s Wilko – born John Wilkinson – is superbly portrayed by the uncannily named Johnson Willis, who chicken struts across the stage while periodically machine-gunning the punters with his guitar.

Amazingly, Willis also manages to recreate the downward, plectrum-free strumming style for which Johnson was renowned. No mean feat that and there would have been quite a few axe wielders in this capacity Malvern crowd who will have marvelled at such attention to detail.

Like so many of us born in the aftermath of the Second World War, Wilko was forced to run the gauntlet of relentless parental disapproval and the grammar schoolmaster thugs intent on crushing the spirit out of any boy who wouldn’t yield to their casual brutality and assorted mental cruelties.

No wonder then that rock music would be their solace, saviour, sanctuary and – in the case of John Wilkinson – the only faith to follow and keep.

Jon House plays the part of ebullient frontman Lee Brilleaux and has also studiously done his homework. He captures the sweat-soaked persona and stage mannerisms of the scowler with the Howling Wolf vocals that would reinvigorate the music and lay the foundations of the punk revolution of the mid-1970s.

Cigarette in hand, his whole body shaking and shuddering to the vibe, and a wailing, shrieking diatonic harmonica pushed to the limits of sound, House becomes Brilleaux. Yep, fabulous stuff.

Nevertheless, the Dr Feelgood era is more or less covered by the end of the first half. After a blazing row with Brilleaux, Wilko teams up with Ian Dury’s Blockheads and later goes on to pursue other ventures.

Crucially, Maitland’s play skilfully avoids becoming a tribute show, using numbers such as She Does it Right, Roxette and Riot in Cell Block Number Nine to illustrate - rather than dominate - the proceedings.

Wilko is indeed a fitting homage to a man who was larger than life in more ways than one. The play is undoubtedly this week’s star turn at Malvern and is firmly recommended.