REVIEW: Quadrophenia

(This is the site’s 200th post.)

In 1973, The Who released an album that would change the world forever, influencing rock contemporaries and spreading through the ages, ultimately resurfacing in the grunge movement (Eddie Vedder cited it as a primary influence), jam bands (Phish covered it in full at a Halloween gig), and even pop-punk (American Idiot).

That album, was, of course, Quadrophenia (duh, it’s in the post title) and it is, without a doubt, one of the greatest works in the history of rock music. A densely layered concept piece, Quad bridges The Who’s definitive loud sound - everybody plays lead on every song - with the synths, strings, and musical complexity of the burgeoning progressive movement. Quad’s beauty lies in its ability to harness these sounds without giving in to the pretentiousness of prog: this is an album about the explosion of a movement, of violently encountering the transition from youth to adulthood, and of desperately trying to find oneself in the world. It’s bleak, harsh, and yet spiritual, ending with the potential for hope.

Like Tommy and the abandoned Lifehouse project, Quadrophenia tells something of a bizarre story as only The Who could get away with. It’s 1964, and a lad of 16 named Jimmy is leaving school, getting a well paying but distinctly working class job, and spending his money on the speed and fashions required to stay in with the mod scene that he follows but never quite connects to. As his life begins to deteriorate, Jimmy finds himself split into four personas modeled on the members of The Who: a tough guy (Roger Daltrey), a romantic (John Entwistle), a nutter (Keith Moon), and what’s labeled a hypocrite but really more of an ineffectual and observer (Pete Townshend, who wrote and scored the entire album.)

When things hit bottom at home at the end of the first disc, Jimmy takes off for mod central in Brighton, only to find his solace shattered in the off-season with the city nearly deserted and after a disappointing encounter with one of his heroes.

It sounds simple, but deciphering the story in full requires reading the album’s liner notes or seeing a video of the 1996-1997 tour with its linking narration. The songs themselves give little away, reflecting emotion and a personal journey but not providing a wider frame of context. It’s of little surprise, therefore, that when Quadrophenia was turned into a film in 1979 that much of the original story (and music) was discarded. It also guarantees that fans familiar with the film but not the album are going to be completely lost at Quadrophenia, the musical.

Returning to roots, the stage Quadrophenia dispenses with any sort of dialogue and sticks to the music and attempts to tell its story through lyric and dance. As suggested above, this is quite an undertaking, especially as the original double album is just over 85 minutes and the production truncates one song (“I’ve Had Enough”) and cuts the second leitmotiv instrumental (“The Rock”), which brings the story to a head on vinyl. Making up the runtime are seven early Who songs, some of which were brought out of cold storage for the film, and reset into context. For those familiar with the album, the additions in the second act will feel like padding. For everyone else, they’re going to fit right in. Either way, the added tracks add a sense of authenticity to the period - Quad is very much later Who, and doesn’t sound like anything from 1964.

But does the adaptation actually work? For the most part, yes. Pete Townshend himself has contributed to and supervised director Tom Critchley’s adaptation, teaching the cast about the period and ensuring that his vision is accurately represented, much as he did with the original Broadway production of Tommy. This isn’t to say there aren’t problems (more below), but overall the show is stunningly true to the spirit of the album and it bursts across the stage in a whirlwind of sound and fury.

First and foremost, John O’Hara’s orchestrations are stunning. Adapting the score for nine pieces (2 keys / 2 guitars / 2 strings / bass / drums / brass), the music gains a level of undercurrent for the motiv structure to shine through and guaranteeing that the music is appropriately loud. It’s also a tribute to Jason Barnes’s sound design that the cast are still able to be heard over the blaring band without ever getting painful to hear and without the muffled and echo-y tones of most tours (and touring venues).

Credit also goes to Frances Newman for her excited, visceral choreography and Carl Perry for the costumes so stylish as to remind us in one shot why the mods looked so damn cool: I left the theatre wanting one of Jimmy’s marked up parkas, even if the revivalist/torch carrying mods of here and now find the garment passé and stereotypical.

So where’s the big problem? Well, as I mentioned before, the story can be obtuse, and while the staging brings it to life as much as possible, it doesn’t always manage to make sense of itself on stage. One reason for this is the presence of a Young Jimmy representing the whole id, who struck me as somewhat superfluous. There’s also some time jumping in an attempt to clarify some lyrics in the face of onstage happenings which would be a spoiler to reveal here. Sophie Khan’s set doesn’t help much either: there’s a sofa for the first few scenes, a revolve, and a giant ring in the second act. The band are visible on a two tiered cage at the back for a couple of cast members to climb on, but otherwise the location prompts are determined by how much the viewer is paying attention to the lyrics. Clubs are easy, a solo moment on a pier not so much.

Another, more pressing issue, is in the portrayal of Jimmy’s personalities: all four are played by different actors in identical clothes. The technique is engaging and works as the situation shifts from Ryan O’Donnel’s romantic reaching out to others to George Maguire’s tough guy fighting with his father (John Schumacher), but it can be difficult to tell the four apart, especially when Maguire is physically very similar to ineffectual Jimmy Rob Kendrick and maintains similar body language. Jack Roth’s lunatic tends to slouch and keep a worrying grin, and Ryan O’Donnell keeps a saddened look most of the time though he too blends into the others at times. A second viewing made it easier to work out who was who at times, but the majority of visitors won’t make the effort.

Confusion aside, all four of the lads - three of whom have been with the production since workshop - are fierce to watch as are the rest of the cast including Kevin Wathen who stands out as The Godfather, singing most of the early Who numbers and Sydney Rae White as the abstract Girl.

At the end of the day, the weaknesses of the piece are, in their own way, amplifying its strengths. The abstract nature of the story and focus on internalised conflict make it a universal tale of putting behind childish things, not unlike Spring Awakening, but better. It’s like the class braniac gut punching the captain of the rugby team at graduation. And it’s absolutely bloody brilliant.

Where: Touring until 3 October. Check the show website for details.
When: Tu-Sa, Fr/Sa are two show days.
How Much: Varies by stop. Tickets were £7.50-£28 when I saw the show.
Concessions: Varies by stop. ATG theatres are doing twofers for members on some nights.
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £30. It’s worth every penny to hear the music performed live though some may find the story difficult to follow.
RZ Other Notes: This is not a traditional show for musical queens. One such person posted on a message board that she hated the show - it was too loud for her taste, and when asked what she was expecting confessed that she’d never listened to The Who before and didn’t care for serious rock in general. Her loss. While I doubt that Quadrophenia will convert fans of traditional MT fare to The Who, much as We Will Rock You is unlikely to convert haters to Queen, I can only hope that people do give it a try because it really is that brilliant.

I’m also sad that the tour has apparently been cut short - early press implied that the show would go until November, including stops in Milton Keynes and Wimbledon, which would have been incredibly convenient. Now I have to debate going down to Brighton (relevant but mostly sold out) or somewhere a good distance from London if I want to see it again before it ends - sales have varied location to location but are nowhere good enough to suggest that a West End transfer would be profitable.

Oh, and why the hell didn’t someone get the cast on T4 to promote this show? It’s still incredibly relevant 35 years after the album came out.

REVIEW: "The Witches of Eastwick" (UK Tour)

(Still catching up, two shows behind now, two more on this week's theatregoing agenda. To a certain author/composer who posted a comment recently, the RZ is trying to get his hands on your concept album so he can have a listen and reply appropriately.)

Well, the RZ saw The Witches of Eastwick for the first time on Friday night in Wimbledon. It was a pleasant evening, and he has to say that he left the theatre with songs such as “Words Words Words” and “Dance with the Devil” stuck in his head where they've remained through writing this review. So far, so good right? Right.

But may he be bold enough to offer those responsible a piece of unsolicited advice about the show? Yes? Good.

Stop changing it. Seriously. Because you see, while the RZ, a new visitor to Eastwick, had a decent enough time - as did a friend’s companion for the evening - my friend himself (and it appears many visitors on the UK message boards) did not. Pleasant memories of the prior two London productions run rife through the community here, and the endless revisionism this show has undergone is starting to hurt more than help.* After a while it reaches a point where one has to just sit and wonder “why?” If they’re so unhappy with the show, why has it had multiple commercial productions in the past (when it should have perhaps stayed in workshop?) and why not just walk away and move on to new work that can be better than the last one? Because eventually there will be so much editing and rewriting that you wind up with Starlight Express syndrome: a hodgepodge of ideas and revisions that no longer functions as a coherent, cohesive show that loses the charm and appeal of the original work.

Needless to say, the mantra that comes to the RZ’s mind is “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it” and it seems that audience members the RZ has spoken to feel that the older versions weren’t broken, which is a shame as the current version certainly is. Going into details (vs. making a metacritical statement) requires more familiarity with the material than this author has.

How so, you ask? Well, there’s something missing now, particularly in the second act. It’s hard to describe the sensation, but at times it felt like the show was in the background or like watching other people enjoying the show (like watching friends play video games). It’s not that the RZ was bored, more that he felt disconnected in a rather off-putting way - and last he checked, this is not a show that aims for Brechtian alienation.

And then there’s the mixed messages: is this a show about the power of sisterhood? How about that men are scum? Or is it meant to be a misogynistic piece about the two-faced and manipulative nature of women who, as a result, deserve to be manipulated by the men around them? The show in its current form touches on all three, while (according to Wikipedia anyways) the film version leans towards the first option, which is likely why people find it endearing. The RZ will, however, point out that the show’s accusatory opinions of small town American are entirely accurate.

Anyhow, putting the textual problems aside, on to the current production: designer Peter Mckintosh has gone for a look straight out of Archie comics with cartoony houses and pastel coloured costumes. It works, but the RZ wonders if something with a more realist approach wouldn’t have served the material and the fantastical aspects better.

Cast-wise, Rebecca Thornhill reprises the role of Sukie Rougemont from the London transfer production, but the RZ found her performance - like most of the cast’s - to be on the unmemorable side. The cast weren’t bad but there was a lack of stage presence all around, possibly due to catching an 8:30 show which followed a 5:00 matinee.** Pop star Marti Pellow did stand out however, but not in a particularly attractive manner: his voice is higher than the RZ expected for Daryl, and he plays the character as so immature that when he expresses his desire for children to the trio of witches, it’s impossible to understand why. And while he certainly came off with more charisma than most of the cast, it just wasn’t enough to really impress.

As the RZ said above, he found The Witches of Eastwick pleasant, but this production lacks punch. Those who haven’t seen the show before could do far worse than to catch the tour if it’s coming nearby, but previous Witches fans may find themselves disappointed.

*The current UK tour is the fifth edition of the show, the previous editions being the original Drury Lane production, the transfer to the Prince of Wales (rev1), the Australian production (rev2), the Washington DC area production (rev3), and now this tour (rev4). Even The Scarlet Pimpernel only has four official versions.

**For those unfamiliar with UK scheduling, some shows opt to have a late double on Friday which allows an after-school family or after-work crowd to go to the theatre before dinner/clubbing/whatever. In this case, the first performance was at 5PM and the second at 8:30. Witches ran around 2:50 with an interval, meaning that the cast effectively had their half hour call as soon as the curtain went down from the early show.

Where: Touring. Seen at the New Wimbledon.
When: Until 9 May 2009
How Much: Varies by venue
Concessions: Varies by venue
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £15. Discounts are out there if you know where to look.
RZ Other Notes: This may be the longest review in recent memory.

UPDATE: Too Much Theatre

It’s finally happened: the RZ’s theatre-going habit has outstripped his ability to keep the site updated in a timely manner. Mind you, going to the theatre at night has been functioning as a perk for focusing on work during the day, namely the work of getting his behemoth of a master’s thesis written. As such, the RZ has seen the following shows but will not be writing full reviews on them:

Well @ Trafalgar 2: It’s funny, and raises some interesting questions, but also suffers from “hate all the characters” syndrome. By the last 20 minutes the RZ was hoping that the main character would go McDonagh on someone’s arse.

Our House @ New Wimbledon (Now touring somewhere else): How the original production won the Olivier is beyond the RZ’s comprehension - it must have been a painfully dry year. Not having been in the UK when Madness were the shit, the only thing keeping him from leaving this shitty production at the interval was the thought of spending two hours on the train to and from Wimbledon for an hour of theatre. Not that it was all bad - the choreography was great, the songs would be fun to play DDR to, and the cast tried their best - but the sound design was poor (there were lyrics?) and the RZ facepalmed repeatedly during the performance, the plot of which was as such: do the right thing and wind up an unemployed convict, do the wrong thing and wind up successful only to murder your mum by accident.

The Pretender Agenda @ New Players: An office full of scandal makes for a funny play, but it needed another workshop: the first scene could have been cut entirely though the play was overall entertaining and a good reminder of why you should always be nice to your temps. The cast was loaded with TV stars the RZ didn’t recognise (that all gave quality performances either way), but he suspects that only 10% of the audience (somewhere in the 50-75 person range) was NOT comped the night he went - most of the people in the stalls knew the author who was also in attendance.

Eurobeat @ Novello: Went with a friend who loves the trash factor of Eurovision this time. No surprise, she loved it. No surprise, Poland won. The RZ has shilled for this enough by now and doesn’t even work for the damn show.

Small Craft Warnings @ Arcola 1: Typical Tennessee Williams with the added bonus of an unrehearsed understudy coming to the rescue of a mostly solid cast (who all slipped accents a few times). Great speeches, but a bit of a mess. This was the RZ’s first time at the Arcola and he’s fallen in love with the space, not to mention the neighbourhood’s restaurants.

The Harder They Come @ Playhouse: The RZ popped in for the closing. Nothing particularly special or different, no speeches at the end.

On the RZ’s agenda for this week is a preview of Come Dancing at Stratford East and a lot of continued writing work along with the Osamu Tezuka festival at the Barbican (where he will probably hide in the back row of the cinema with his computer continuing to make last minute revisions).