Performed in the intimate setting of the Barnfield Theatre café, The Orchard was a hidden gem of a folk musical. With an audience of around fifty, I count myself lucky to have been among those present at the opening night of this heartwarming, professional, and refreshingly original production. Written, composed, and directed by Jodie Micciché and Andrew Armfield, this two-person show was a testament to the power of simple, well-told stories.
As audience members settled into their foldable seats with drinks from the bar before the show, Jodie and Andrew blended seamlessly into the crowd. Dressed in casual attire, the only giveaway was their interactions with select audience members. Seated two spots away from me, a middle-aged man was handed a cue card and asked if he’d like to participate in the show. “You won’t have to do much,” Jodie reassured him. “Just when I turn to you in one of my songs and ask a question, can you respond with what’s written on your card?” He was more than happy to be involved, setting the tone for an intimate show which involved its audience in the production.
Drinks paid for and audience settled down, Jodie and Andrew took to the stage which consisted of a stool, a chair, two guitars, and a banjo placed in front of the venue’s bar. With that, the story began. Jodie, playing a woman called Bea, recounted her childhood in Devon, accompanied by Andrew and his guitar. Raised on ‘Tomlin’s Orchard,’ her family’s cider business in Lewisham, Bea’s idyllic early years were uprooted when her father took a job in London. “From green open spaces to cracks in pavements and crowds of people.” Visits to her grandparents’ orchard became increasingly sparse and, as she grew older, she lost touch with the rural life she once loved.
I count myself lucky to have been among those present at the opening night of this heartwarming, professional, and refreshingly original production.
In London, Bea adapted quickly—altering her accent to fit in, taking on jobs she had no passion for, and enduring indifferent bosses. “In London, you’re a cog in a machine,” she says, comparing her life there to the village pub she currently finds herself in. When financial struggles, job dissatisfaction, and a faltering relationship culminate in a breakdown, Bea makes a bold choice: she returns to her grandparents’ orchard in the Southwest.
Back ‘home,’ she is confronted with guilt—her grandmother is still sharp as ever, but her grandfather is frail and bedridden. “As a kid, you can’t wait to be part of the grown-ups,” she says, “but you don’t realise that the older you get, the older they get.” Determined to reconnect and find herself again, she throws herself into the family business and crosses paths with Jim (played by Andrew), a brewery worker. Their romance is endearingly predictable as it unfolds against a backdrop of village traditions and orchard life.
The show’s humor was a standout feature. One particularly hilarious number involved Bea’s grandmother setting her up on blind dates, with eligible bachelors played by unsuspecting audience members holding cue cards. “They’re all buzzing to go on a drink with you,” grandma assures her. “According to their mothers.” The comedic timing, combined with sharp, witty songwriting, had the room in tears. Another highlight was Bea’s rediscovery of small-town quirks, including a moment at the local pub where she orders two ciders for four pounds twenty and is told, “I know, this one’s pricier.”
Despite its familiar Hallmark romance big-city-girl-returns-home-and-falls-for-small-town-boy storyline, The Orchard felt fresh, thanks to Jodie and Andrew’s engaging performances, heartfelt music, and clever audience interaction. Their chemistry, both as performers and storytellers, carried the show effortlessly, making it a production well worth seeing. Intimate, funny, and moving, The Orchard is a delightful folk musical and a love letter to the Southwest.
Despite its familiar Hallmark romance big-city-girl-returns-home-and-falls-for-small-town-boy storyline, The Orchard felt fresh.
