FINALLY, the show we've all been waiting for opened at the Everyman. Not only had David Morrissey returned to play one of theatre's greatest roles but it would be the last time we would sit in those funny orange seats and watch a homegrown production.

At the end of my review I'll post links to some others so you can compare our viewpoints. Please add your own in the comments section at the bottom. I'd love to read them...

BREATHS were bated in anticipation for this collision of moments in theatrical history - Liverpool Everyman's final major show, before it closes for demolition this summer, and the return of David Morrissey to the stage where he first discovered his passion, and aptitude, for his craft.

SOME of the daring feats carried out by the cast of Swan Lake on Ice are so complex they haven't yet been named, we are told in the accompanying bumpf.

So expectations are higher than a butterfly jump for this to be an adrenaline-fuelled, daredevil version of the classic ballet.

WITH a brand spanking new studio to prepare in Phoenix Dance say from now on the only limit to their work will be their imaginations so this charismatic programme of four diverse pieces includes one centred around aerial movement, something the Leeds-based company has never done before.

Melt, by Phoenix's artistic director Sharon Watson, draws on the visual effect of elements colliding - the dancers shape-shifting to the primeval-meets-pop sounds of Mercury-nominated Wild Beasts as fire comes into contact with ice.

WHAT pressure Matthew Bourne must have felt devising a new version of Prokofiev's Cinderella ballet with the composer's son in the room sketching the dancers at work.

But he needn't have worried for while there are muses a plenty in this thrilling take on the rags to riches tale - 1940s films and real-life bombing raids among them - the original score remains the choreographer's most deeply felt inspiration.

Set during the London Blitz, the piece draws on the themes of loss, isolation and hurried romance to create an interpretation that enhances the fairytale qualities of the Cinderella story while embedding it in reality.

I SAW Tiny Volcanoes at Latitude last year when it was still a bit rough around the edges but showed real potential. It was a delight to see it polished and even more energetic at the Everyman tonight.

My review:

THOSE with a sensitive ear to strong language, an aversion to dodgy David Cameron impressions or with BNP membership should probably avoid Liverpool writer Laurence Wilson's latest concoction.

But if you're not flustered by swearing or adult themes and like to question your own beliefs as well as those of others then this Marmite play could be your show of the year.

BEFORE I launch into my review I'd like to share a couple of things in Tim Rice's biography in the Joseph programme that amused me. Somehow he manages to list all is many accomplishments while being so self-depricating that it comes out as modest - "He has won a variety of awards, mainly for the wrong things or just for turning up" it says about his three Oscars, four Tonys, 13 Ivor Novellos and Star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

Anyway, here's my review...

A TYPICAL Friday night out in Liverpool - you leave the house feeling a million dollars and return your own poor relation. And that's how it is for the motley crew in Dead Heavy Fantastic as they lurch their way from tentative first drinks to apocalyptic sunrise sure in the knowledge that they're pretty likely to do it all again next week.

Blood Brothers favourite Con O'Neill returns to the Liverpool stage for the first time in more than 20 years as Vince, the compelling borderline sociopath who's great for a pint but you wouldn't want him living next door.

IT'S an intriguing concept - the story of an Elvis Costello fan so obsessed that she changes her name to Elsie and starts believing his past is her own. Her descent into madness is told through the Shipbuilding singer's poetic lyrics sung live on stage.

And with a celebrated performer of his work at the show's centre and talented musicians on support it surely can't go wrong. But it does, sort of. Or at least it never quite goes right.

A SOLID black banqueting table appears to be the only thing of substance in Sophocles's Ancient Greek whodunnit, retold by Steven Berkoff to compelling effect.

Kings metamorphosise into vagabonds then slaves and then back to kings again, while sons transform into husbands and wives into mothers.

The truth slips mercurially from one shape to another and divine intervention battles it out with free will in a war with no clear winner.

AN EVENING in the company of Daniel Kitson takes you back to childhood storytime - feeling the rough twill of the classroom corner carpet through your white knee-length socks as the teacher crisply turns the first page.

A troubadour for the 21st century, he catches you unawares - ambling in as if he's accidentally stumbled on to the stage before hijacking your imagination.

His lyrical tales are a direct contrast to his shabby appearance - painstakingly constructed, poetic yarns spun from a mouth framed by a bearded face decorated with milk bottle glasses.