In 2006 the Landor Theatre in Clapham, which seats only 48, staged Sondheim's most opulent show FOLLIES and against all odds pulled it off remarkably well. Now they have put on one of his more intimate shows and by and large they have succeeded again.

ASSASSINS, score by Sondheim book by John Weidman, is a kaleidoscopic show which spotlights the nine people who have tried and sometimes succeeded in assassinating American Presidents. They interact and reflect each other's obsessions and madnesses. The original idea - disposed of here - is that the show takes place in a carnival setting with the protagonists being drawn to a stall proprietor who hands them guns to use in his shooting range - KILL A PREZ WIN A PRIZE.

The linking device is a young balladeer who sings the stories of the earlier killers in the style of popular music from the period. It took me a while to work out that the balladeer here is played as a young student presumably researching the cases. Ultimately he is won over by their arguments... and is seen pinning his picture up next to theirs on the back wall, off to kill a president or his other high-school students.

The sad, misguided motives are given by the nine - John Wilkes Booth angered by Lincoln's subjection of the South through the Civil War, Charles Guiteau feeling slighted by Garfield refusing to make him Ambassador to France, Leon Czolgosz' adherence to Anarchist ideals, Giuseppe Zangara driven paranoid by ill-health, depressive Sam Byck who attempted to kidnap a plane to fly into Nixon's White House, Manson-acolyte Lynette Fromme wanting to carry on Charlie's gospel, Sara Jane Moore attempting to shoot Gerald Ford a few weeks after Fromme to prove herself to her radical friends and John Hinckley obsessed with Jodie Foster and "Taxi Driver", attempting to kill Reagan to prove his love for her.

The show itself has had an odd history - it opened originally in 1991 off-Broadway as the first Iraq War started and the expected transfer to Broadway was judged ill-advised due to the inexplicably poor reviews and it's resolutely bleak view of the American Dream. It was finally announced to open 13 years later at Studio 54 until it was pulled - previews were due to start weeks after the September 11 attacks. It finally opened in 2004 and despite only a three month run it went on to win 5 Tony Awards. It's London premiere in 1992 was the first production at the Donmar Warehouse under the direction of Sam Mendes.

The continued American resistance to the show is due I think to it's powerfully bleak tone. The show has a great twist towards the end which this production opened my eyes to I think for the first time. The Balladeer has been the moral conscience of the show, while the assassins sing of their anger and frustration he counters them with the fact that nothing changed because of their actions, the poor were no better off, the wages didn't get better, life didn't get better. But eventually he oversteps his mark and they turn on him with the song ANOTHER NATIONAL ANTHEM, the obvious conclusion to being fed the lie of the American Dream - where is their dream? Where is their prize? And what greater way is there of getting people to finally notice you than to kill the embodiment of the Dream? This leads into the show's most sustained and chilling scene.

A man sitting alone pulls a gun out of a paper bag and goes to shoot himself only to be interrupted by Booth wandering into the room. Booth proceeds to wear the man down by incessant wheedling questions as to what has brought him to this moment... and what can this man, Lee Harvey Oswald, do to make an impact on the world? The assassins appear to plead their case as well as showing him how he can literally make the world stop in it's tracks, how he can be remembered down through history as much as his victim, their dark and inverted version of the American Dream can be his... and now there is no one to balance their arguments. Booth presents him with a rifle...

The nine killers are all given a moment to shine (or shoot) and some seize their day better than others - Christopher Ragland although too over-emphatic in his solo as Booth later calmed down to make a charismatic focal point, Jeff Nicholson was on the money as Guiteau - the best role in the show really - who made the most of THE BALLAD OF GUITEAU dancing and clowning himself closer to the hangman's noose, Sebastian Palka was effective as Czolgosz - his number being my favourite in the score with it's double-meaning lyric about working your way to the head of the line, Tim Jackling was a very good tortured Oswald and I liked Jenni Bowden as the klutzy Sara Jane Moore.

My reservations are down to some alarmingly over-emphatic playing, unnecessary in such a small space - Graham Weaver played Hinckley as if possessed by Jerry Lewis at his most nerdiest - and the all-important opening version of EVERYBODY'S GOT THE RIGHT was compromised by it being sung by Kirsten Parks as the Proprietor who simply didn't have the voice for it. Indeed other numbers could have been better appreciated if they were better staged - the crowd members in HOW I SAVED ROOSEVELT for example were too busy hitting their marks to put over the central joke of that song - that they are all claiming to have thwarted Zangarra's assassination when interviewed by the press to secure their own moment of fame... while the assassin sizzles in the Electric Chair unwatched.

But what a joy to hear one of Sondheim's most enjoyable scores live again, all of them knowing pastiches of American song - from folk ballads to band marches, from vaudeville cakewalks to barber shop quartets. He even knowingly places a lovely pop ballad just where it would be in any other musical as the two youngest characters sing of their love. But here it's not to each other - Hinckley sings it to Jodie Foster and Fromme sings it to Charles Manson, the typical ballad lyrics of doing anything to prove your love taking on a dark and twisted turn.

Well done to the Landor and director Ben Carrick for reviving this challenging and haunting musical.