Cowal Choral Club, Queen's Hall, Dunoon, May 27 to 29.

'Amateur' is a word that has gone through some unhappy transformations over the years. With a sharp decline in genuinely amateur sport in favour of chequebook amateurism, the negative connotations of 'amateurish' have come to the fore.

Fortunately, they're in retreat again, not after some Corinthian triumph on the sports field but following the hugely successful Cowal Choral Club production of Beauty and the Beast at the Queen's Hall last weekend.
Anyone who also saw a recent 'professional' production at the SECC in Glasgow will know that, even if driven by the love of singing and performing that is the essence of 'amateurism', CCC's production more than matched it for sheer professionalism of production, choreography and delivery, and managed to add human warmth and genuine humour - two qualities in which the SECC show was conspicuously lacking.

It is, of course, a story of both happy and unhappy transformations, and it's worth noting that it deals with not one but two outsiders; three if you include the heroine's eccentric inventor father, who sets the narrative in motion.
Locked away in an enchanted castle, surrounded by retainers who are slowly morphing into household objects, an arrogant, selfish prince has been turned by an enchantress into a hideous Beast. If he does not find love before a magical rose loses its last petal, he will be condemned to remain in that state for all time.

Meanwhile, in the village, Belle, though not feared, is dismissed as an eccentric dreamer, constantly buried in a romantic book, living half her life in imagination. It seems heredity is at work, for her old father Maurice is thought to be half-mad, or simple. He's certainly not the full shilling when it comes to navigation, for en route to the county fair he gets lost in the woods, finds himself surrounded by wolves and takes unsafe refuge in the Beast's castle.

Belle learns he is lost when the hapless LeFou returns from the forest wearing Maurice's scarf. She goes in search of him and bravely offers herself as a prisoner as a price for the old man's freedom, condemned to live with a talking candlestick, clock, teapot and cup, and wardrobe, as well as a veritable batterie de cuisine of animated utensils. For just a moment, the rejected offer of marriage from the local oaf and huntsman Gaston must have seemed appealing after all.
The brilliance - and that's another word often misused - of Graham Duffy's direction and Emma Duffy's choreography is that it gives these clunky elements and their familiar, fairy-tale working-out a real sense of drama, as well as making maximum use of Disney's vivid sets.

As Belle, Donna Dunn commanded the stage from the very beginning and established a convincing and touching relationship with Joe Rhodes as Maurice. As blustering, brainless Gaston, Drew McIntyre gets to bear his teeth more often than the Beast (which is perfectly appropriate, given his day job).
Brendan Dick as LeFou had the biggest share of physical acting, but still managed to stay on his mark and deliver lines to Gaston with knife-and-fork accuracy. Tom Morton managed the near-impossible task of conveying a Beast who still has a man trapped inside, and did so with moving realism; it isn't easy to play a character who doesn't want to be seen and who can only communicate in roars - Tom's real transformation begins when he sings of his despair and loneliness, one of the high points of the show.

The household in which Belle finds herself is run by the wound-up Cogsworth (John Paterson) with cook/housekeeper Mrs Potts (Margaret Flannigan) and her son Chip, two Chips off someone's old block shared the role and the honours,  Hunter McDonald/Ben Docherty) providing a more maternal spirit.
The candlestick Lumière (Alistair Stewart, channeling Maurice Chevalier) attempts to cast light on proceedings, but seems to have some difficulties controlling his wick, according to on-off girlfriend Babette (Lorraine Daw) who is fated to turn into a feather duster. At the high-art end of the household, opera star Madame de La Grande Bouche (played by club president Fiona Maclean) has gone from toast of Europe to wardrobe.
The other wardrobe role fell as usual to that behind-the-scenes veteran Pat Paterson who gave the whole cast - not just those in Disney finery - a look that elevated and animated every scene. No dividing line here between amateur and professional elements.

The heart of any good show - whether Madame's opera, a Broadway show or Disney musical - is the chorus, and Cowal's singers and dancers animated the village and castle scenes. Your reviewer was obliged to return for all three nights - taking a lie-down during the Saturday matinee - not just out of local loyalty but in order to check out the Silly Girls individually. Their presence as Gaston's fan club, as well as wolves and assorted denizens of the castle, was vital to the success of the show. I'm required to say, as I did on the night, that each of them was the best.
The music isn't subtle, but if the mark of successful music is that you hear people humming and whistling it in the street, then check this week how often between pier and hospital you pick up a snatch of 'Be Our Guest' or 'Human Again'. These are songs originally aimed at young viewers and they're intended to stick fast. An excellent band under Russell Cowieson and accompanist Karen Wheatley gave Alan Menken's score a worthy burnish.

Quibbles? They might seem churlish, but when you set the bar as high as this, they are a kind of back-handed praise. Is Gaston a villain or a buffoon? If he's both, the director needs to point up the distinction more carefully. Too many accents on stage - Scots, English, American, French - and no obvious logic to them. Too many people on stage at some points, which even with a local show's need to give everyone a share of the limelight, was self-defeating, particularly when the Disney costumes demanded some dancers appeared with knives, forks and plates on their backs; you either believe in a magical transformation or you don't, and some of the Disney costumes were unnecessarily literal, though that's a criticism directed at Walt's heirs, not the Choral Club.

It was an uplifting and genuinely moving night's entertainment. With so much bad stuff out there in the world and so much wannabe 'entertainment' on television, it was great to be at an amateur production that delivered a professional product. Over four houses, Cowal Choral Club did what Belle and her Beast both dreamed of, transporting people to another place and making them feel 'human again'.