(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.
--------------------------
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.
Showing posts with label New Musical. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New Musical. Show all posts
Saturday, 25 July 2009
Tuesday, 21 July 2009
REVIEW: Too Close To The Sun
(EDIT: This review has been quoted by the Daily Mail!)
(ANOTHER EDIT: This review has also been quoted by the Independent!)
Ladies and Gentlemen, the Trainwreck Express is now calling at the Comedy Theatre.
I’m not sure where to go from there, really. It’s rare that such a disaster opens in the West End, and Too Close To The Sun is certainly an amusing disaster to watch as it descends further and further from shocking to abysmal to “oh no they didn’t” and beyond.
I guess we should begin at the beginning, with James Graeme coming down the stairs as Earnest Hemingway and revealing how badly his costume was measured as he lifts his arms and we see the waistband holding his mic pack. Some bad dialogue and he goes offstage, a toilet flushes, and he comes back onstage with a glass of urine which he analyses and leaves on the mantle until the end of the rather long opening scene where a stagehand removes it by the time the set swings around again.
The actual plot (in as much as there is one, and it’s all in the second act) involves a gold-digging secretary (Tammy Joelle) hoping to become wife number five, old friend and slimeball producer Rex De Havilland (Jay Benedict) trying to convince the Hollywood hating Hemingway to sell his biography rights, and wife #4 (Helen Dallimore) strutting around as mistress of the domain controlling Hemingway’s diet and setting rules for everybody while working as fast as she can to get rid of the competition for Earnest’s affections. Oh, and conveniently enough, none of Hemingway's books are actually mentioned by name. Perhaps the estate caught the foul wind of what was going on.
I should point out that the music, lyrics, and production are by the same team responsible for the infamous 2005 flop Behind the Iron Mask, if that gives any of you an idea of the quality you’re in for. The brilliant dialogue includes lines like “What are you doing now?” “Looking for a decent script.”, “What part of Popeye never rusts?” “The part he sticks on Olive Oyl.”, and there are such witty lyrics as “I was the big barricuda” and “A hoochy-cootchy Alabama way down south” a scene on where to best stick the gun muzzle when killing yourself, and the night’s big laugh moment involves Hemingway sings a ballad about being stuck in solitary silence while Rex is off being manic about the film possibilities in a half-lit part of the stage and upstaging the song.
And speaking of being half-lit, someone must be pissed at Helen Dallimore because she wasn’t lit at all in her last couple songs.
But there’s lots of reasons to be annoyed about the cast, particularly Mr. Benedict who, despite being in numerous musicals, is entirely incapable of singing this score on key. Then again, neither can anybody else - perhaps the a-lyrical lyrics (Rhymes? Metre? We don’t need those here!) and a-melodic melodies (and I don’t mean in the avant garde outsider musician sense) are to blame, given just how many blown notes and painful flats there were. Although, perhaps a comparison to outsider musicians isn’t entirely off base: the opportunities for unintended laughter easily matched those of a Florence Foster Jenkins concert, though Madam Flo had the charisma to avoid losing over half her audience at the interval. She also, wisely, stuck to a single piano and didn’t inflict Connor Mitchell’s half-decent half-wtf arrangements on an unsuspecting audience including some unfortunate children.
Many of us weren’t smart enough to leave, however (including - to quite a few surprises - the West End Whingers), and pressed on through the second act with a Blitz spirit, not willing to surrender to the pain and wanting to see just how they could top themselves next. Would the raw timbre set catch fire? Would the stuffed deer head begin talking as Earnest planned to kill himself? We still hadn’t had a geriatric sex scene, so it was an obvious thing to hope for. Ultimately we got none of those three, but we were treated to some of the worst drunken acting in ages and some pointless songs after the suicide.
In other words, the creative team from Behind the Iron Mask have provided something for everybody who missed their previous outing to tell stories about and a guaranteed entry in a West End version of Not Since Carrie. It’s tacky, ugly, and the must-see disaster of the year. Flop collectors will cherish this, though I doubt anybody else will. Those trying to go certainly shouldn’t PAY for a ticket, but freebies are out there if you look and chances are you can collect a stub from someone walking out after the first 10 minutes without missing much.
Hell, you could probably just walk right in and the ushers wouldn’t care - it’s not like the theatre’s going to be anywhere near full anyway.
Where: Comedy Theatre
When: Until 5 September. Tu-Sa @ 19:30, W/Sa @ 14:30
How Much: £10-£55
Concessions: Almost certainly and Ambassador Friends can get top tickets for £20 at all performances. It’s also on lastminute for £10 and has appeared on their sales for as little as £3.
-------------------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £5 for trainwreck entertainment value.
RZ Other Notes: Like with Shakespeare, tragedy can be a source of many laughs. Also consider checking with the discount booths by Leicester Square around closing time - some may have extras or promo tickets to give away.
(ANOTHER EDIT: This review has also been quoted by the Independent!)
Ladies and Gentlemen, the Trainwreck Express is now calling at the Comedy Theatre.
I’m not sure where to go from there, really. It’s rare that such a disaster opens in the West End, and Too Close To The Sun is certainly an amusing disaster to watch as it descends further and further from shocking to abysmal to “oh no they didn’t” and beyond.
I guess we should begin at the beginning, with James Graeme coming down the stairs as Earnest Hemingway and revealing how badly his costume was measured as he lifts his arms and we see the waistband holding his mic pack. Some bad dialogue and he goes offstage, a toilet flushes, and he comes back onstage with a glass of urine which he analyses and leaves on the mantle until the end of the rather long opening scene where a stagehand removes it by the time the set swings around again.
The actual plot (in as much as there is one, and it’s all in the second act) involves a gold-digging secretary (Tammy Joelle) hoping to become wife number five, old friend and slimeball producer Rex De Havilland (Jay Benedict) trying to convince the Hollywood hating Hemingway to sell his biography rights, and wife #4 (Helen Dallimore) strutting around as mistress of the domain controlling Hemingway’s diet and setting rules for everybody while working as fast as she can to get rid of the competition for Earnest’s affections. Oh, and conveniently enough, none of Hemingway's books are actually mentioned by name. Perhaps the estate caught the foul wind of what was going on.
I should point out that the music, lyrics, and production are by the same team responsible for the infamous 2005 flop Behind the Iron Mask, if that gives any of you an idea of the quality you’re in for. The brilliant dialogue includes lines like “What are you doing now?” “Looking for a decent script.”, “What part of Popeye never rusts?” “The part he sticks on Olive Oyl.”, and there are such witty lyrics as “I was the big barricuda” and “A hoochy-cootchy Alabama way down south” a scene on where to best stick the gun muzzle when killing yourself, and the night’s big laugh moment involves Hemingway sings a ballad about being stuck in solitary silence while Rex is off being manic about the film possibilities in a half-lit part of the stage and upstaging the song.
And speaking of being half-lit, someone must be pissed at Helen Dallimore because she wasn’t lit at all in her last couple songs.
But there’s lots of reasons to be annoyed about the cast, particularly Mr. Benedict who, despite being in numerous musicals, is entirely incapable of singing this score on key. Then again, neither can anybody else - perhaps the a-lyrical lyrics (Rhymes? Metre? We don’t need those here!) and a-melodic melodies (and I don’t mean in the avant garde outsider musician sense) are to blame, given just how many blown notes and painful flats there were. Although, perhaps a comparison to outsider musicians isn’t entirely off base: the opportunities for unintended laughter easily matched those of a Florence Foster Jenkins concert, though Madam Flo had the charisma to avoid losing over half her audience at the interval. She also, wisely, stuck to a single piano and didn’t inflict Connor Mitchell’s half-decent half-wtf arrangements on an unsuspecting audience including some unfortunate children.
Many of us weren’t smart enough to leave, however (including - to quite a few surprises - the West End Whingers), and pressed on through the second act with a Blitz spirit, not willing to surrender to the pain and wanting to see just how they could top themselves next. Would the raw timbre set catch fire? Would the stuffed deer head begin talking as Earnest planned to kill himself? We still hadn’t had a geriatric sex scene, so it was an obvious thing to hope for. Ultimately we got none of those three, but we were treated to some of the worst drunken acting in ages and some pointless songs after the suicide.
In other words, the creative team from Behind the Iron Mask have provided something for everybody who missed their previous outing to tell stories about and a guaranteed entry in a West End version of Not Since Carrie. It’s tacky, ugly, and the must-see disaster of the year. Flop collectors will cherish this, though I doubt anybody else will. Those trying to go certainly shouldn’t PAY for a ticket, but freebies are out there if you look and chances are you can collect a stub from someone walking out after the first 10 minutes without missing much.
Hell, you could probably just walk right in and the ushers wouldn’t care - it’s not like the theatre’s going to be anywhere near full anyway.
Where: Comedy Theatre
When: Until 5 September. Tu-Sa @ 19:30, W/Sa @ 14:30
How Much: £10-£55
Concessions: Almost certainly and Ambassador Friends can get top tickets for £20 at all performances. It’s also on lastminute for £10 and has appeared on their sales for as little as £3.
-------------------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £5 for trainwreck entertainment value.
RZ Other Notes: Like with Shakespeare, tragedy can be a source of many laughs. Also consider checking with the discount booths by Leicester Square around closing time - some may have extras or promo tickets to give away.
Friday, 3 April 2009
REVIEW: Blok Busta
I don’t even know where to start with this one. I guess the easy, lazy, and potentially humorous way to go is with another good/bad list...
(EDIT: On revision while dropping in links and formatting I realised I should briefly cover the plot. In Glamsville it's illegal to listen to disco, but the Blok Busta is going around killing girls with long black hair by playing disco to them. His suspicions fall on a group of teachers and students at Glamsville High after they bomb the school and start a nightclub. Some infighting occurs, another girl dies, a male fantasy lesbian cop hits on good girl gone bad Virginia Plain, and the mystery is solved at the end.)
GOOD:
-The score (too many contributors to list) is mostly original. There’s a few covers in there (including “Sugar Baby Love” by the Rubettes - guaranteed to throw off anime fans everywhere) but there’s a LOT of new tunes here.
-A lot of the songs (bottom of the page) are catchy and have lyrics between competent and clever. I wouldn’t mind having a cast recording on my iPod, even though I’d be hard pressed to justify paying for it. There’s the occasional clunker but for the most part the music is decent.
-The lighting is concert appropriate though a bit excessive during the encore.
-The cast do wonders for the material. For some reason the creative team didn’t feel it was worth listing or mentioning the cast members on the website so I can’t reference them, but the fellow playing Aladdin Payne (yes they all have names this lame) and the actress who took the triple role of the initial victim (forgot the name), Delilah, and Jenny Jenn also deserves credit for bringing some life to the production.
-As actor/musicians, the cast do a great job often doubling on instruments.
-Disco music is a lethal weapon. I approve.
BAD:
-It’s not glam. I know that Blok Busta *advertises* itself as a glam musical, and it does cover some songs from the glam movement and has some glam-ish costumes (though they’re more Jem than glam) but some of the key glam tropes are missing.
-Case in point? The lack of androgyny. Yes the guys have make-up and sparkly costumes and platform boots, but where’re the waifs, the torch songs, and the posing? The characters move like stereotypes and don’t feel inhabited.
-Likewise the movement is off in performance. A big part of Glam was toning down the phallic “Man plays big guitar at crotch level” aspect of Rock, but it was here in abundance. The girls rocked out as well, so they reclaim some points there, but again, the aesthetic was close but not right. Go read some Auslander, see a proper stage production of Hedwig and the Angry Inch, and try again.
-The book. There’s (barely) a plot, but it’s thin and gleefully discarded for the next tune (hint to Mike Bennett who wrote the show: *NEVER* say something like “This makes me sad. Let’s have a song!” Songs in musicals should be extensions of the characters and not forced. Priscilla makes the same mistake.)
-More on the book. I was chatting to another audience member at the interval and they made the comparison to a comic book. Given that I’ve been on a reading bender lately including as much books of Top 10, The Authority, and Transmetropolitan as I can get ahold of in addition to revisiting Watchmen, any self-respecting comic book author would be insulted by being compared to Blok Busta. I’d compare it more to Vampires Rock, and found that by shifting my expectations from “musical” to “concert with plot-like banter” the second act was more enjoyable.
-Which brings me to the pacing. I felt every minute of the two hours here.
-The spoiler moment with “I Will Survive.” I want to go on Room 101 just to lock that song away forever.
OVERALL
Mike Bennett (author and no relation to the brilliant Michael Bennett) has written good material in the past. I know people who’ve worked with him on other projects and they had nothing but good things to say about them, so it seems like Blok Busta is simply misconceived and an unfortunate mis-step in a long, industrious, and largely well received career. Here’s hoping to a return to form and better things in the future.
Where: New Players Theatre
When: Until 18 April, Tu-Sa @ 19:30, Sa @ 15:00
How Much: £20. Try and get row J or forward.
Concessions: £15.
-------------------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: A very generous £10. Conveniently you can get tickets for this on lastminute. It’s worth going if you ignore everything BUT the music.
RZ Other Notes: For such a small venue the New Players has a number of seats which feel remarkably distant.
(EDIT: On revision while dropping in links and formatting I realised I should briefly cover the plot. In Glamsville it's illegal to listen to disco, but the Blok Busta is going around killing girls with long black hair by playing disco to them. His suspicions fall on a group of teachers and students at Glamsville High after they bomb the school and start a nightclub. Some infighting occurs, another girl dies, a male fantasy lesbian cop hits on good girl gone bad Virginia Plain, and the mystery is solved at the end.)
GOOD:
-The score (too many contributors to list) is mostly original. There’s a few covers in there (including “Sugar Baby Love” by the Rubettes - guaranteed to throw off anime fans everywhere) but there’s a LOT of new tunes here.
-A lot of the songs (bottom of the page) are catchy and have lyrics between competent and clever. I wouldn’t mind having a cast recording on my iPod, even though I’d be hard pressed to justify paying for it. There’s the occasional clunker but for the most part the music is decent.
-The lighting is concert appropriate though a bit excessive during the encore.
-The cast do wonders for the material. For some reason the creative team didn’t feel it was worth listing or mentioning the cast members on the website so I can’t reference them, but the fellow playing Aladdin Payne (yes they all have names this lame) and the actress who took the triple role of the initial victim (forgot the name), Delilah, and Jenny Jenn also deserves credit for bringing some life to the production.
-As actor/musicians, the cast do a great job often doubling on instruments.
-Disco music is a lethal weapon. I approve.
BAD:
-It’s not glam. I know that Blok Busta *advertises* itself as a glam musical, and it does cover some songs from the glam movement and has some glam-ish costumes (though they’re more Jem than glam) but some of the key glam tropes are missing.
-Case in point? The lack of androgyny. Yes the guys have make-up and sparkly costumes and platform boots, but where’re the waifs, the torch songs, and the posing? The characters move like stereotypes and don’t feel inhabited.
-Likewise the movement is off in performance. A big part of Glam was toning down the phallic “Man plays big guitar at crotch level” aspect of Rock, but it was here in abundance. The girls rocked out as well, so they reclaim some points there, but again, the aesthetic was close but not right. Go read some Auslander, see a proper stage production of Hedwig and the Angry Inch, and try again.
-The book. There’s (barely) a plot, but it’s thin and gleefully discarded for the next tune (hint to Mike Bennett who wrote the show: *NEVER* say something like “This makes me sad. Let’s have a song!” Songs in musicals should be extensions of the characters and not forced. Priscilla makes the same mistake.)
-More on the book. I was chatting to another audience member at the interval and they made the comparison to a comic book. Given that I’ve been on a reading bender lately including as much books of Top 10, The Authority, and Transmetropolitan as I can get ahold of in addition to revisiting Watchmen, any self-respecting comic book author would be insulted by being compared to Blok Busta. I’d compare it more to Vampires Rock, and found that by shifting my expectations from “musical” to “concert with plot-like banter” the second act was more enjoyable.
-Which brings me to the pacing. I felt every minute of the two hours here.
-The spoiler moment with “I Will Survive.” I want to go on Room 101 just to lock that song away forever.
OVERALL
Mike Bennett (author and no relation to the brilliant Michael Bennett) has written good material in the past. I know people who’ve worked with him on other projects and they had nothing but good things to say about them, so it seems like Blok Busta is simply misconceived and an unfortunate mis-step in a long, industrious, and largely well received career. Here’s hoping to a return to form and better things in the future.
Where: New Players Theatre
When: Until 18 April, Tu-Sa @ 19:30, Sa @ 15:00
How Much: £20. Try and get row J or forward.
Concessions: £15.
-------------------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: A very generous £10. Conveniently you can get tickets for this on lastminute. It’s worth going if you ignore everything BUT the music.
RZ Other Notes: For such a small venue the New Players has a number of seats which feel remarkably distant.
Sunday, 30 November 2008
THOUGHTS: Perfect Pitch Festival 2008
Another year, another Perfect Pitch. This year the festival changed from showcasing 10 shows (15-60 min. presentations) at Upstairs at the Gatehouse to showcasing 6 (45-55 min. presentations) at Trafalgar Studios 2. While the new location lends to the festival’s cred, the reduction in showcased material - especially when two of the six were by the same person - is disappointing even if the bump in casting is equally impressive.
That said, I went on two nights and saw four of the pieces. As these works are still in development I won’t get into too much detail but will stick to general impressions.
First and foremost, I thought that while the scores to all of the shows were good, three of the four were identical in style - I felt as though I could cut apart the music and put the songs into different pieces without suspecting something wrong. Part of this is undoubtedly due to the limited (or entire lack of) arrangements used, as hearing theatrepop scores on piano alone (or with simplified string and/or acoustic guitar) makes it difficult to appreciate uniqueness in full. Now on with the individual shows:
Lift - Nine people ride the lift at Covent Garden station and their lives meet and intertwine. It’s a nifty idea, and while I don’t think the show could easily scale to the West End, I can see it fitting in comfortably at somewhere like the Chocolate Factory or the Kings Head. Likewise this would work quite well as a concept album. It’s a good (if not overly white) representation of modern London.
The Diary of Me - A rebellious 16 year old comes to terms with his estranged father dating again after his mother dies while understanding friendship and relationships. This would have been more interesting had I not seen Shit Mix a month earlier: fairly standard youth theatre fare, would do well somewhere like Oval House or on a TIE programme.
Can You Keep A Secret - A mother is constantly moving with her two daughters: one who fails to establish friendships online or in person yet falls for a local bad boy and another who is shy and escapes into a fantasy world with dangerous repercussions on reality. Similar thoughts to The Diary of Me, but taken from a more adult perspective. Word is that the teenage relationships involved are actually the main ones but the adults became the focus in order to keep things clean for the 45 min. format. The fantasy elements will, I suspect, be better dealt with when scenery and the full running time are involved.
The Lost Christmas - A pair of robots from the year 4000 come back to the present to find something missing from the winter season, meeting up with a girl in a traditional, respectable middle-upper class liberal family. The standout score of the bunch, the music here is more pastiche than straightforward and it works out well. This show probably worked best in the 45 min. format (along with Lift which is more episodic than linear) and this would make a nice alternative to panto.
In short: nothing OMGWOW but there’s clear potential in all cases and I wish I could have seen the last two shows (Rebels and Retail, which looks like a British Walmartopia and Through the Door, a time travel romance.) The scarier thing is that the festival organisers consider themselves to be a stepping stone in early or middle development for a five to ten year development cycle. IMHO that’s an excessive period, but not a surprising one these days - Next to Normal - currently running in DC - has been going for 10 years (even if it was production worthy after seven,) Rue Magique also made it to ten despite staying a disaster, and even RENT was being worked on for the better part of five years (arguably seven including when Larson and Aronson were toying around with it.) The turnaround time on production is only getting higher (remember the days when composers banged out a new show in 1-3 years?) and it's frightening to think that in many cases the reward is a 1 hour edition at a festival with 1800 other shows competing for eyes or 6-8 weeks on the Fringe with few places to follow up.
On that note, I wish the best of luck to all involved, and let’s all look forward to 2009.
That said, I went on two nights and saw four of the pieces. As these works are still in development I won’t get into too much detail but will stick to general impressions.
First and foremost, I thought that while the scores to all of the shows were good, three of the four were identical in style - I felt as though I could cut apart the music and put the songs into different pieces without suspecting something wrong. Part of this is undoubtedly due to the limited (or entire lack of) arrangements used, as hearing theatrepop scores on piano alone (or with simplified string and/or acoustic guitar) makes it difficult to appreciate uniqueness in full. Now on with the individual shows:
Lift - Nine people ride the lift at Covent Garden station and their lives meet and intertwine. It’s a nifty idea, and while I don’t think the show could easily scale to the West End, I can see it fitting in comfortably at somewhere like the Chocolate Factory or the Kings Head. Likewise this would work quite well as a concept album. It’s a good (if not overly white) representation of modern London.
The Diary of Me - A rebellious 16 year old comes to terms with his estranged father dating again after his mother dies while understanding friendship and relationships. This would have been more interesting had I not seen Shit Mix a month earlier: fairly standard youth theatre fare, would do well somewhere like Oval House or on a TIE programme.
Can You Keep A Secret - A mother is constantly moving with her two daughters: one who fails to establish friendships online or in person yet falls for a local bad boy and another who is shy and escapes into a fantasy world with dangerous repercussions on reality. Similar thoughts to The Diary of Me, but taken from a more adult perspective. Word is that the teenage relationships involved are actually the main ones but the adults became the focus in order to keep things clean for the 45 min. format. The fantasy elements will, I suspect, be better dealt with when scenery and the full running time are involved.
The Lost Christmas - A pair of robots from the year 4000 come back to the present to find something missing from the winter season, meeting up with a girl in a traditional, respectable middle-upper class liberal family. The standout score of the bunch, the music here is more pastiche than straightforward and it works out well. This show probably worked best in the 45 min. format (along with Lift which is more episodic than linear) and this would make a nice alternative to panto.
In short: nothing OMGWOW but there’s clear potential in all cases and I wish I could have seen the last two shows (Rebels and Retail, which looks like a British Walmartopia and Through the Door, a time travel romance.) The scarier thing is that the festival organisers consider themselves to be a stepping stone in early or middle development for a five to ten year development cycle. IMHO that’s an excessive period, but not a surprising one these days - Next to Normal - currently running in DC - has been going for 10 years (even if it was production worthy after seven,) Rue Magique also made it to ten despite staying a disaster, and even RENT was being worked on for the better part of five years (arguably seven including when Larson and Aronson were toying around with it.) The turnaround time on production is only getting higher (remember the days when composers banged out a new show in 1-3 years?) and it's frightening to think that in many cases the reward is a 1 hour edition at a festival with 1800 other shows competing for eyes or 6-8 weeks on the Fringe with few places to follow up.
On that note, I wish the best of luck to all involved, and let’s all look forward to 2009.
Wednesday, 22 October 2008
REVIEW: “Rue Magique”
(Because some anonymous will undoubtedly bitch and moan that this is coming off of a first preview, let’s get a key fact out of the way: tickets are being sold at FULL PRICE during the preview period. That’s £20-25 for the fringe for a technically unfrozen show. Complain to those responsible for THOSE ethics before complaining about a member of the public rambling on the internet. With that taken care of...)
Ladies and gentlemen, the trainwreck express is now pulling in at the King's Head.
Because Riflemind wasn’t enough of a disaster - because Imagine This actually has good word of mouth coming in from out of town - because someone has extra money to throw around (and to those people, I will be happy to work for you vetting funding requests) there’s Rue Magique, currently previewing and soon to open at the Kings Head. And despite nine years in development, Rue Magique is a show that musical disaster fans will be talking about for years.
As the show is still in previews, I’m going to give the standard free passes: the hard working cast give it their absolute all here, especially Melanie LaBarrie as conflicted madame Desdemona and newcomer Nadia Di Mambro as the sweet voiced Sugar and despite the flaws in her book, Lisa Forrell’s direction gets the right stuff out of her cast. Any flaws with the acting or staging will undoubtedly be fixed by the end of previews.
Now for the carnage.
Rue Magique claims to be based on true stories, and while I have no doubt that such tragedy exists in real life, it’s a questionable area to be taking a musical. The plot here revolves around creole Desdemona, a demanding, game boy addict of an agoraphobic madame who runs a brothel in south London. She has three full timers: a British crack whore, a Jamaican dreaming of opening a nail salon, and a Latvian with iffy English who spends more of her time fulfilling Desdemona’s OCD cleaning demands than landing clients - aka vipers.
The show opens with a song about the run down area, the homeless, and the fierceness required to survive. The customers fight over the women (an early song talks about the air being rife with the smell of lubrication - rhymed with sexual frustration), and Desdemona lays down the rules, lording over her tiny domain. When daughter Sugar - it’s her thirteenth birthday today (despite looking 20) - gives her mother’s snacks to a homeless man, she’s sent out for more and talks to shop boy Rem (who’s 17 but looks 25) who offers to teach her kickboxing (to the tune of a drum machine backed song called “Flex”) as a way of chatting her up. Sugar then goes home and Desdemona informs her that she’s now old enough to start servicing the customers. Sugar sings a tender ballad proclaiming her dreams of a magic birthday party surrounded by a loving family (her father is AWOL), and she performs the last chorus while her head hangs off a table as she’s raped by a rather large man.
I’m going to repeat that bit because it’s a true Springtime for Hitler moment come to life. 13 year old Sugar sings the end of her “I Want” song as she’s being raped by a fattie. It’s not even shocking and edgy because di Mambro looks so much older, but it’s tasteless in the same way that The Blonde in the Thunderbird was tasteless when Suzanne Sommers sang “If I Only Had A Brain” as the voice representing her father boomed abuse.
The show goes all downhill from there. Rem sings to Sugar that not all men are evil, she turns against Desdemona and tries living on the street under the sometimes-watchful eye of the homeless man from the opening, it’s revealed that Rem is one of Desdemona’s old clients, and he eventually persuades the domineering mother to confront her past and reveal her daughter’s origins. I would think the right thing for Rem to do would be putting in a call to social services, but that doesn’t make for a good ending and the reveal comes too late in the second act for such an integration to play out in a way that resolves the mother-daughter tension. Of course, the actual ending isn’t so great either: Desdemona frees her daughter from sexual slavery, but only for tonight because it’s her birthday and she’s expected back at work tomorrow.
I wish I could be more positive about this show coming into town. Despite the squick factor of the characters’ ages (I’d believe it more if they were, say, 15 and 18 or 15 and 20), Forrell’s book does manage to hit most of the right emotional notes, but it’s undermined by Brett Kahr’s songs and their truly dreadful lyrics. Outside of two or three big numbers (the act one face-off between Desdemona and Sugar, the title song sung in Creole, and a comic relief number in the second act by three vipers), the lyrics are jaw-droppingly bad which is a shame because the melodies are nice though a bit bland.
If it were up to me to fix things up, I'd keep Lahr's melodies but bring in another lyricist. I’d also cut the interval and the second act opener (an extended comic song about keeping the house clean - like the aforementioned dream song) to keep the tension high. Likewise I'd try to clean up the some of loose ends and tighten up the character arcs: why does Sugar dream of the West End if she can only leave the house to buy groceries? Does Rem actually know about kickboxing and if so why not have him actually teach Sugar so that she can physically take care of herself by the act one conflict and come across as a real threat?
In the end, Rue Magique is sort of like a prostitute’s Annie crossed with BKLYN, except without the wealthy payoff. At this point, it's not even mock-musical East Hastings from the last series of Slings & Arrows. And yes, when going into the theatre I was thinking of this line from [title of show]: “When Bock and Harnick were writing Tenderloin / they were taking a risk to write a show about whores.” While I’m not sure if Rue Magique can be 100 people’s ninth favourite thing or not, but it may manage to become nine people’s favourite regardless of its flaws.
Where: Kings Head
When: Until 7 December, Tu-Sa @ 19:30, Sa/Su @ 15:30
How Much: £20 (Unreserved)/£25 (Reserved)
Concessions: £17.50. If you hold your ground you can try and get a discount on previews but there is no official discount.
-------------------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £12.50 because the trainwreck value is that good.
RZ Other Notes: I think I spent about half of the show with my jaw agape from just how ridiculous things played out on stage. Also, I rag on the lyrics quite a bit so I should include some examples:
“Prepare yourself for explosive sex / but no, nothing risky / and she don’t take credit cards or personal cheques.” (this is from a song that's not supposed to be funny - and if it was, the crowd weren't laughing very much)
“When you’re threatened by a junkie / strike a pose and look real funky!”
“When the crop is ripe / put it in your pipe / all the whores become madonnas”
“He’s brave and bold / his bum is very cute / some day he may be mine”
“You must submit / you piece of shit!”
“To reclaim your self-respect / with strong detergent we disinfect”
“If there is soap / then there is hope”
“And so I sit with with my well thumbed pornographic magazine with pages stuck together”
Ladies and gentlemen, the trainwreck express is now pulling in at the King's Head.
Because Riflemind wasn’t enough of a disaster - because Imagine This actually has good word of mouth coming in from out of town - because someone has extra money to throw around (and to those people, I will be happy to work for you vetting funding requests) there’s Rue Magique, currently previewing and soon to open at the Kings Head. And despite nine years in development, Rue Magique is a show that musical disaster fans will be talking about for years.
As the show is still in previews, I’m going to give the standard free passes: the hard working cast give it their absolute all here, especially Melanie LaBarrie as conflicted madame Desdemona and newcomer Nadia Di Mambro as the sweet voiced Sugar and despite the flaws in her book, Lisa Forrell’s direction gets the right stuff out of her cast. Any flaws with the acting or staging will undoubtedly be fixed by the end of previews.
Now for the carnage.
Rue Magique claims to be based on true stories, and while I have no doubt that such tragedy exists in real life, it’s a questionable area to be taking a musical. The plot here revolves around creole Desdemona, a demanding, game boy addict of an agoraphobic madame who runs a brothel in south London. She has three full timers: a British crack whore, a Jamaican dreaming of opening a nail salon, and a Latvian with iffy English who spends more of her time fulfilling Desdemona’s OCD cleaning demands than landing clients - aka vipers.
The show opens with a song about the run down area, the homeless, and the fierceness required to survive. The customers fight over the women (an early song talks about the air being rife with the smell of lubrication - rhymed with sexual frustration), and Desdemona lays down the rules, lording over her tiny domain. When daughter Sugar - it’s her thirteenth birthday today (despite looking 20) - gives her mother’s snacks to a homeless man, she’s sent out for more and talks to shop boy Rem (who’s 17 but looks 25) who offers to teach her kickboxing (to the tune of a drum machine backed song called “Flex”) as a way of chatting her up. Sugar then goes home and Desdemona informs her that she’s now old enough to start servicing the customers. Sugar sings a tender ballad proclaiming her dreams of a magic birthday party surrounded by a loving family (her father is AWOL), and she performs the last chorus while her head hangs off a table as she’s raped by a rather large man.
I’m going to repeat that bit because it’s a true Springtime for Hitler moment come to life. 13 year old Sugar sings the end of her “I Want” song as she’s being raped by a fattie. It’s not even shocking and edgy because di Mambro looks so much older, but it’s tasteless in the same way that The Blonde in the Thunderbird was tasteless when Suzanne Sommers sang “If I Only Had A Brain” as the voice representing her father boomed abuse.
The show goes all downhill from there. Rem sings to Sugar that not all men are evil, she turns against Desdemona and tries living on the street under the sometimes-watchful eye of the homeless man from the opening, it’s revealed that Rem is one of Desdemona’s old clients, and he eventually persuades the domineering mother to confront her past and reveal her daughter’s origins. I would think the right thing for Rem to do would be putting in a call to social services, but that doesn’t make for a good ending and the reveal comes too late in the second act for such an integration to play out in a way that resolves the mother-daughter tension. Of course, the actual ending isn’t so great either: Desdemona frees her daughter from sexual slavery, but only for tonight because it’s her birthday and she’s expected back at work tomorrow.
I wish I could be more positive about this show coming into town. Despite the squick factor of the characters’ ages (I’d believe it more if they were, say, 15 and 18 or 15 and 20), Forrell’s book does manage to hit most of the right emotional notes, but it’s undermined by Brett Kahr’s songs and their truly dreadful lyrics. Outside of two or three big numbers (the act one face-off between Desdemona and Sugar, the title song sung in Creole, and a comic relief number in the second act by three vipers), the lyrics are jaw-droppingly bad which is a shame because the melodies are nice though a bit bland.
If it were up to me to fix things up, I'd keep Lahr's melodies but bring in another lyricist. I’d also cut the interval and the second act opener (an extended comic song about keeping the house clean - like the aforementioned dream song) to keep the tension high. Likewise I'd try to clean up the some of loose ends and tighten up the character arcs: why does Sugar dream of the West End if she can only leave the house to buy groceries? Does Rem actually know about kickboxing and if so why not have him actually teach Sugar so that she can physically take care of herself by the act one conflict and come across as a real threat?
In the end, Rue Magique is sort of like a prostitute’s Annie crossed with BKLYN, except without the wealthy payoff. At this point, it's not even mock-musical East Hastings from the last series of Slings & Arrows. And yes, when going into the theatre I was thinking of this line from [title of show]: “When Bock and Harnick were writing Tenderloin / they were taking a risk to write a show about whores.” While I’m not sure if Rue Magique can be 100 people’s ninth favourite thing or not, but it may manage to become nine people’s favourite regardless of its flaws.
Where: Kings Head
When: Until 7 December, Tu-Sa @ 19:30, Sa/Su @ 15:30
How Much: £20 (Unreserved)/£25 (Reserved)
Concessions: £17.50. If you hold your ground you can try and get a discount on previews but there is no official discount.
-------------------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £12.50 because the trainwreck value is that good.
RZ Other Notes: I think I spent about half of the show with my jaw agape from just how ridiculous things played out on stage. Also, I rag on the lyrics quite a bit so I should include some examples:
“Prepare yourself for explosive sex / but no, nothing risky / and she don’t take credit cards or personal cheques.” (this is from a song that's not supposed to be funny - and if it was, the crowd weren't laughing very much)
“When you’re threatened by a junkie / strike a pose and look real funky!”
“When the crop is ripe / put it in your pipe / all the whores become madonnas”
“He’s brave and bold / his bum is very cute / some day he may be mine”
“You must submit / you piece of shit!”
“To reclaim your self-respect / with strong detergent we disinfect”
“If there is soap / then there is hope”
“And so I sit with with my well thumbed pornographic magazine with pages stuck together”
Tuesday, 7 October 2008
THOUGHTS: "A Tale of Two Cities"
(When the backlog gets big, the RZ gets to the point.)
No, the RZ hasn't made a journey to see the critically-slammed megamusical currently running on Broadway. This OTHER version of the classic novel, running at Upstairs at the Gatehouse, is the brainchild of David Pomeranz (score), Steven David Horwich (Book/Lyrics) and David “I wrote the part of Time everybody hated” Soames (Book) manages to do what the big bad Broadway edition couldn’t: condense Dickens’s epic into a svelte 2:40 (with interval) without sacrificing characterisation or major events in the plot.
Director and co-producer Paul Nicholas has brought together an excellent and experienced cast (no fresh faced pre-drama schoolers here like the upcoming cast of Spring Awakening), and in this case things do get better with age: they sell the show marvellously. While the occasionally clunky line shows up in the text, it doesn’t get in the way, and Pomeranz has supplied a chamber score much like that of Marguerite’s: pretty but same-y and ultimately unmemorable, reproduced here on two pianos. Sound tech (no sound designer is credited) Andy Evans has gone above and beyond the call of duty to provide a wonderful mix which, given the large cast and small space, is no easy task. Mike Lee’s costumes are lovely to stare at and his set design is clean and simple.
In short?
Sometimes smaller is better, and this intimate production is worth checking out. The RZ would not be surprised were it to have a lovely future ahead. There’s a gem of a show here, and with some polishing it can become brilliant.
Where: Upstairs at the Gatehouse
When: Until 2 Nov. Tu-Sa @ 19:30, Su @ 16:00
How Much: £12/£15 (All but Sat/Sat). Unreserved seating.
Concessions: £10/12
-----------------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £12. Lush costume drama, big cast, and not boring.
RZ Other Notes: Those close to the RZ will appreciate the difficulty he had in actually reviewing this production at all. Not that getting to the show was hard or that he had massive laziness to overcome, but there are other “issues” which made it a bit of a sticky subject.
No, the RZ hasn't made a journey to see the critically-slammed megamusical currently running on Broadway. This OTHER version of the classic novel, running at Upstairs at the Gatehouse, is the brainchild of David Pomeranz (score), Steven David Horwich (Book/Lyrics) and David “I wrote the part of Time everybody hated” Soames (Book) manages to do what the big bad Broadway edition couldn’t: condense Dickens’s epic into a svelte 2:40 (with interval) without sacrificing characterisation or major events in the plot.
Director and co-producer Paul Nicholas has brought together an excellent and experienced cast (no fresh faced pre-drama schoolers here like the upcoming cast of Spring Awakening), and in this case things do get better with age: they sell the show marvellously. While the occasionally clunky line shows up in the text, it doesn’t get in the way, and Pomeranz has supplied a chamber score much like that of Marguerite’s: pretty but same-y and ultimately unmemorable, reproduced here on two pianos. Sound tech (no sound designer is credited) Andy Evans has gone above and beyond the call of duty to provide a wonderful mix which, given the large cast and small space, is no easy task. Mike Lee’s costumes are lovely to stare at and his set design is clean and simple.
In short?
Sometimes smaller is better, and this intimate production is worth checking out. The RZ would not be surprised were it to have a lovely future ahead. There’s a gem of a show here, and with some polishing it can become brilliant.
Where: Upstairs at the Gatehouse
When: Until 2 Nov. Tu-Sa @ 19:30, Su @ 16:00
How Much: £12/£15 (All but Sat/Sat). Unreserved seating.
Concessions: £10/12
-----------------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £12. Lush costume drama, big cast, and not boring.
RZ Other Notes: Those close to the RZ will appreciate the difficulty he had in actually reviewing this production at all. Not that getting to the show was hard or that he had massive laziness to overcome, but there are other “issues” which made it a bit of a sticky subject.
Thursday, 31 July 2008
REVIEW: "Big Bruvva: The Musical"
First there was Jerry Springer: The Opera. Then there was Eurobeat: Almost Eurovision. And now, a hybrid has emerged in Big Bruvva: The Musical as six wacky characters compete for the audience’s text message vote in this entertaining yet weak-toothed satire of reality television, recently performed at Upstairs at the Gatehouse and soon running at this year’s Edinburgh festival.
The idea behind Big Bruvva is solid enough: As their final challenge, the housemates must act out their day as a 55 minute musical before the audience votes the winner. There are confessionals/butter churning sessions aplenty, as the characters make their confessions to an increasingly snarky and sadistic Big Bruvva.
And what of these characters? Well, they’re everything you expect: the narcissistic pretty-boy, the anorexic bimbo, the gangsta, the moron, and the sexually ambiguous hermaphrodite with an agenda. And this is where the problems emerge. When Jerry Springer used these characters, it portrayed both a sense of knowing exploitation on behalf of Jerry the character, but also a look at the motivations behind what makes cheating diaper fetishists want to reveal themselves on national television. Big Bruvva lacks this emotional involvement, in part due to runtime, keeping everything (and everybody) on the surface: there are no hidden motivations for the housemates, merely a desire to be famous and shout at each other on TV. A bigger disappointment, however, is just how little it matters who wins at the end. Unlike in Eurobeat which changes its ending number and jokes accordingly, Big Bruvva has each person singing the same song.
Depth (or lack thereof) aside, Big Bruvva is a lot of fun. While the evening’s biggest laugh came from a meta-joke (of which there are many...jokes about musicals being musicals are getting old...), there are lots of chances for the audience to smile and chuckle. The songs are on the simple side, but complex doesn’t always mean better and they serve this type of material well - a chorus here and a verse there were stuck in the RZ’s head, which fulfils the “hum it on your way out” requirement. The cast aren’t amazing, but there’s a limit to what you can get on a fringe budget, but that’s matched by paying fringe prices. See it if you’ve got a free slot at the fringe or want something to wake you up after hours of pretentious straight plays or foreign high schoolers butchering a plethora of established and decidedly non-fringe musicals. Fun, fast moving fluff, and it’s meant in the best way possible.
Where: Edinburgh Fringe Festival
When: Check your fringe guide
How Much: Ditto
Concessions: Same
----------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £7.50
RZ Other Notes: Unlike Eurobeat, you text your votes to a proper mobile number so you aren’t surcharged for it. Also, keep an eye on the video screens beforehand for cameos by ex-Big Brother contestants.
The idea behind Big Bruvva is solid enough: As their final challenge, the housemates must act out their day as a 55 minute musical before the audience votes the winner. There are confessionals/butter churning sessions aplenty, as the characters make their confessions to an increasingly snarky and sadistic Big Bruvva.
And what of these characters? Well, they’re everything you expect: the narcissistic pretty-boy, the anorexic bimbo, the gangsta, the moron, and the sexually ambiguous hermaphrodite with an agenda. And this is where the problems emerge. When Jerry Springer used these characters, it portrayed both a sense of knowing exploitation on behalf of Jerry the character, but also a look at the motivations behind what makes cheating diaper fetishists want to reveal themselves on national television. Big Bruvva lacks this emotional involvement, in part due to runtime, keeping everything (and everybody) on the surface: there are no hidden motivations for the housemates, merely a desire to be famous and shout at each other on TV. A bigger disappointment, however, is just how little it matters who wins at the end. Unlike in Eurobeat which changes its ending number and jokes accordingly, Big Bruvva has each person singing the same song.
Depth (or lack thereof) aside, Big Bruvva is a lot of fun. While the evening’s biggest laugh came from a meta-joke (of which there are many...jokes about musicals being musicals are getting old...), there are lots of chances for the audience to smile and chuckle. The songs are on the simple side, but complex doesn’t always mean better and they serve this type of material well - a chorus here and a verse there were stuck in the RZ’s head, which fulfils the “hum it on your way out” requirement. The cast aren’t amazing, but there’s a limit to what you can get on a fringe budget, but that’s matched by paying fringe prices. See it if you’ve got a free slot at the fringe or want something to wake you up after hours of pretentious straight plays or foreign high schoolers butchering a plethora of established and decidedly non-fringe musicals. Fun, fast moving fluff, and it’s meant in the best way possible.
Where: Edinburgh Fringe Festival
When: Check your fringe guide
How Much: Ditto
Concessions: Same
----------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £7.50
RZ Other Notes: Unlike Eurobeat, you text your votes to a proper mobile number so you aren’t surcharged for it. Also, keep an eye on the video screens beforehand for cameos by ex-Big Brother contestants.
Friday, 13 June 2008
REVIEW: "Betwixt!"
Did you like Stardust? What about Wicked? If the answer is “yes” to either, you have just over a week left to run to the King’s Head for what the RZ has been searching for since arriving in the UK: A solid, clever, and entertaining new British musical.
Utilising a hybrid of children’s theatre devices and grownup maturity, Betwixt! starts with fantasy novelist Bailey (Stephen Fletcher) having one hell of a day. His girlfriend is leaving, hype for his new book is rising, his agent is pushing a film, and he’s stuck in the middle with writer’s block. Just when things can’t get worse, a male version of Sally Bowles appears in the form of out-of-work actor Cooper (Ian MacFarlane, the author). When a mysterious door arrives, the two cross into a fairy tale world with adult consequences. As prophesy demands, the hero and the queen from another world are entrusted to save the prince, swapped with a real world twin, and charged to destroy an evil enchantress, the two encounter a world of colourful characters with comedic circumstances.
And what a crazy cast we have. Ex-Maria contestant Abi Finley spends most of the show as a disembodied head, and Amanda Symonds gets to chew the limited scenery as both the villainous enchantress Langwidere and her sister the Nymph Queen. Should rumours of Xanadu transferring to London come to fruition, the RZ strongly suggests casting Ms. Symonds in the Mary Testa role.
From a design standpoint, the King’s Head doesn’t offer much to work with, but the team make it work, with the exception of sound. Yes, despite being unmiked, the show can get painfully loud at times, mostly during the big end-of-act numbers when everybody is belting over the band. Or perhaps the RZ just has sensitive hearing and needs to sit further back than the third row - who can tell?
Otherwise, there’s very few negative points that the RZ can make about Betwixt! The “real world” setting would be just as nice in London as NY (perhaps Mr. MacFarlane is actually an American?) and the show pushes the family-safe boundary with some post-watershed language and graphic choreography, but the RZ doesn’t have children to worry about so parents should judge for themselves if it’s safe for theirs. And while the score wasn’t immediately running through the RZ’s head on the way out of the theatre, it certainly charmed him enough to try and find friends to return with before the closing.
In short? Tongue-in-cheek fantasy is in right now, and if you like the genre Betwixt! will leave you charmed from the first scene. While it will never be a gigantic West End blockbuster, Betwixt! has a clear future in regional and community productions. See it while you can.
Where: King’s Head Theatre
When: Until 22 June, Tu-Sa @ 19:30, Sa/Su @ 15:30
How Much: £20 Unreserved, £25 Reserved
Concessions: £17.50 Unreserved or phone/come to the box office and use the booking code “goldfish” to get tickets for £15.
--------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £20 for a solid show, and the view is good everywhere in the theatre. Unless you really have a favourite spot, the £5 reserved seating premium isn’t worth it.
RZ Other Notes: Baily and the Nymph Queen. It may be a strictly by-the-book comedy poof moment, but it’s still riotous.
Utilising a hybrid of children’s theatre devices and grownup maturity, Betwixt! starts with fantasy novelist Bailey (Stephen Fletcher) having one hell of a day. His girlfriend is leaving, hype for his new book is rising, his agent is pushing a film, and he’s stuck in the middle with writer’s block. Just when things can’t get worse, a male version of Sally Bowles appears in the form of out-of-work actor Cooper (Ian MacFarlane, the author). When a mysterious door arrives, the two cross into a fairy tale world with adult consequences. As prophesy demands, the hero and the queen from another world are entrusted to save the prince, swapped with a real world twin, and charged to destroy an evil enchantress, the two encounter a world of colourful characters with comedic circumstances.
And what a crazy cast we have. Ex-Maria contestant Abi Finley spends most of the show as a disembodied head, and Amanda Symonds gets to chew the limited scenery as both the villainous enchantress Langwidere and her sister the Nymph Queen. Should rumours of Xanadu transferring to London come to fruition, the RZ strongly suggests casting Ms. Symonds in the Mary Testa role.
From a design standpoint, the King’s Head doesn’t offer much to work with, but the team make it work, with the exception of sound. Yes, despite being unmiked, the show can get painfully loud at times, mostly during the big end-of-act numbers when everybody is belting over the band. Or perhaps the RZ just has sensitive hearing and needs to sit further back than the third row - who can tell?
Otherwise, there’s very few negative points that the RZ can make about Betwixt! The “real world” setting would be just as nice in London as NY (perhaps Mr. MacFarlane is actually an American?) and the show pushes the family-safe boundary with some post-watershed language and graphic choreography, but the RZ doesn’t have children to worry about so parents should judge for themselves if it’s safe for theirs. And while the score wasn’t immediately running through the RZ’s head on the way out of the theatre, it certainly charmed him enough to try and find friends to return with before the closing.
In short? Tongue-in-cheek fantasy is in right now, and if you like the genre Betwixt! will leave you charmed from the first scene. While it will never be a gigantic West End blockbuster, Betwixt! has a clear future in regional and community productions. See it while you can.
Where: King’s Head Theatre
When: Until 22 June, Tu-Sa @ 19:30, Sa/Su @ 15:30
How Much: £20 Unreserved, £25 Reserved
Concessions: £17.50 Unreserved or phone/come to the box office and use the booking code “goldfish” to get tickets for £15.
--------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £20 for a solid show, and the view is good everywhere in the theatre. Unless you really have a favourite spot, the £5 reserved seating premium isn’t worth it.
RZ Other Notes: Baily and the Nymph Queen. It may be a strictly by-the-book comedy poof moment, but it’s still riotous.
Thursday, 22 May 2008
REVIEW: "Never Forget"
This is one of those times that being foreign has its distinct ups and downs. See, in the US, we never had Take That. Oh, we had plenty of boy bands but Manchester’s own never invaded our shores.
Needless to say, dear readers, you can guess the RZ’s level of enthusiasm and confusion at the prospect of spending £20 and an evening at a jukebox musical based on this group’s catalogue. Word from the road and previews was uninspiring, and neither was the fact that tonight’s press evening wasn’t fully booked. However, Never Forget is a new West End musical and therefore gets a visit.
Story-wise, Never Forget manages to hit a new low, even for jukebox musicals. Good guy Ash (Dean Chisnall) opens by proposing to girlfriend Chloe (Sophia Ragavelas, recently in Dick Whittington at the Hackney Empire). They have a party at his mum’s pub (Marilyn Cutts) where bill collectors come and announce that unless they fork over £10,000 in two weeks the bank will foreclose. In order to raise the money, Chloe’s brother (Craige Els) suggests the pair audition for a Take That cover band and win the money in a talent contest. The group is rounded out by three losers (a male stripper, a dominated bank manager, and an annoying fey Spaniard), Ash is seduced by a corrupt record producer, leaves the band and Chloe, realises his mistakes, and returns just in time to save the day just in time to get married in front of a children’s chorus used solely in the final scene.
Musically...it’s a jukebox show. If you like the band, you’ll like the music. If you’re not a Take That fan, this show won’t convert you. The RZ did actually recognise two songs in the score: “It Only Takes A Minute”, which was remixed and put into a DDR game (conveniently one of the songs nobody actually wants to play and also a cover for TT) and “Back For Good”, which was used for a huge piss-take in the last episode of Spaced. It’s all manufactured soulless pop music, enjoyable for three minutes at a time, though some of the extended production numbers (“Once You’ve Tasted Love”) run too long. The one good thing about the music is that it provides opportunities for Karen Bruce’s lively and well drilled choreography.
Bob Bailey’s set was designed for touring the show, and features some pure eye candy with a rain curtain that spells the words “Never Forget” and some fire bursts. James Whiteside’s lighting goes well with it, and there’s a lot of tricks with scrim and LED columns. While the actual set pieces look cheap, they work (and it’s not like Manchester is high end anyway.) More annoying are Chris Wood’s costumes, which range from chavtastic to pandering (the RZ lost count of how many times the guys stripped to their briefs) to flat out ugly and covered in brand names (Ecko and Nike were quite visible).
That said, the RZ found himself giving in and enjoying Never Forget despite its flaws and the large squealing fangirl presence. It’s not too long, and is something you can take your mum to, provided she prefers scantily clad young men to the cursing and crime in Jersey Boys. It does what the slogan says on the tin (they perform “A Million Love Songs” and there’s a happy ending) but the fails completely, as though one put a sign that said “Dog: A cute and loveable pet” in front of a cat. The cute and loveable part is right, but not the overall claim. It’s unlikely that the RZ will remember all but the most cursory details of Never Forget after 24 hours.
Where: Savoy Theatre
When: M-Th, Sa @ 19:45, Fr @ 17:30 & 20:30, Sa @ 15:00
How Much: Varies by night, overall £19.50-£55
Concessions: Day Seats and concessions available when the BO opens for £19.50 all days but Saturdays (£25.00).
---------------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying’: £27.50. It’s candy floss for the mind and a fun way to pass an afternoon.
RZ Other Notes: The RZ sat in the day seats, which is amazing given that he was able to buy them for press night. It’s doubly amazing that he arrived five minutes before the box office opened and there was only one person ahead of him. Easiest rush in the West End?
The seats themselves aren’t horrid, but have their issues. You have to crane your neck a fair bit, get wet during the rain scene (not a lot), the lights get in your face a few times, and you’re sitting at eye (and ear) level with the speakers. The curtain call is damn loud, but in the end you get what you pay for.
Despite being pleasantly surprised by the show, the RZ wondered on more than one occasion why anybody would bother putting this show on. While a reunion gig can occur every five or ten years (as Take That themselves are proving), the genuine nostalgia that drives audiences to this type of production for an extended run requires a minimum of twenty, meaning that Take That’s turn is at least another decade off, given that Wiki claims the original break-up was in 1996. One could argue the same about Queen and We Will Rock You, but WWRY has a more original premise and Freddie Mercury’s death accelerated the growth of the nostalgia factor.
Needless to say, dear readers, you can guess the RZ’s level of enthusiasm and confusion at the prospect of spending £20 and an evening at a jukebox musical based on this group’s catalogue. Word from the road and previews was uninspiring, and neither was the fact that tonight’s press evening wasn’t fully booked. However, Never Forget is a new West End musical and therefore gets a visit.
Story-wise, Never Forget manages to hit a new low, even for jukebox musicals. Good guy Ash (Dean Chisnall) opens by proposing to girlfriend Chloe (Sophia Ragavelas, recently in Dick Whittington at the Hackney Empire). They have a party at his mum’s pub (Marilyn Cutts) where bill collectors come and announce that unless they fork over £10,000 in two weeks the bank will foreclose. In order to raise the money, Chloe’s brother (Craige Els) suggests the pair audition for a Take That cover band and win the money in a talent contest. The group is rounded out by three losers (a male stripper, a dominated bank manager, and an annoying fey Spaniard), Ash is seduced by a corrupt record producer, leaves the band and Chloe, realises his mistakes, and returns just in time to save the day just in time to get married in front of a children’s chorus used solely in the final scene.
Musically...it’s a jukebox show. If you like the band, you’ll like the music. If you’re not a Take That fan, this show won’t convert you. The RZ did actually recognise two songs in the score: “It Only Takes A Minute”, which was remixed and put into a DDR game (conveniently one of the songs nobody actually wants to play and also a cover for TT) and “Back For Good”, which was used for a huge piss-take in the last episode of Spaced. It’s all manufactured soulless pop music, enjoyable for three minutes at a time, though some of the extended production numbers (“Once You’ve Tasted Love”) run too long. The one good thing about the music is that it provides opportunities for Karen Bruce’s lively and well drilled choreography.
Bob Bailey’s set was designed for touring the show, and features some pure eye candy with a rain curtain that spells the words “Never Forget” and some fire bursts. James Whiteside’s lighting goes well with it, and there’s a lot of tricks with scrim and LED columns. While the actual set pieces look cheap, they work (and it’s not like Manchester is high end anyway.) More annoying are Chris Wood’s costumes, which range from chavtastic to pandering (the RZ lost count of how many times the guys stripped to their briefs) to flat out ugly and covered in brand names (Ecko and Nike were quite visible).
That said, the RZ found himself giving in and enjoying Never Forget despite its flaws and the large squealing fangirl presence. It’s not too long, and is something you can take your mum to, provided she prefers scantily clad young men to the cursing and crime in Jersey Boys. It does what the slogan says on the tin (they perform “A Million Love Songs” and there’s a happy ending) but the fails completely, as though one put a sign that said “Dog: A cute and loveable pet” in front of a cat. The cute and loveable part is right, but not the overall claim. It’s unlikely that the RZ will remember all but the most cursory details of Never Forget after 24 hours.
Where: Savoy Theatre
When: M-Th, Sa @ 19:45, Fr @ 17:30 & 20:30, Sa @ 15:00
How Much: Varies by night, overall £19.50-£55
Concessions: Day Seats and concessions available when the BO opens for £19.50 all days but Saturdays (£25.00).
---------------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying’: £27.50. It’s candy floss for the mind and a fun way to pass an afternoon.
RZ Other Notes: The RZ sat in the day seats, which is amazing given that he was able to buy them for press night. It’s doubly amazing that he arrived five minutes before the box office opened and there was only one person ahead of him. Easiest rush in the West End?
The seats themselves aren’t horrid, but have their issues. You have to crane your neck a fair bit, get wet during the rain scene (not a lot), the lights get in your face a few times, and you’re sitting at eye (and ear) level with the speakers. The curtain call is damn loud, but in the end you get what you pay for.
Despite being pleasantly surprised by the show, the RZ wondered on more than one occasion why anybody would bother putting this show on. While a reunion gig can occur every five or ten years (as Take That themselves are proving), the genuine nostalgia that drives audiences to this type of production for an extended run requires a minimum of twenty, meaning that Take That’s turn is at least another decade off, given that Wiki claims the original break-up was in 1996. One could argue the same about Queen and We Will Rock You, but WWRY has a more original premise and Freddie Mercury’s death accelerated the growth of the nostalgia factor.
Sunday, 18 May 2008
REVIEW: "Marguerite"
There’s something satisfying about watching the greats fall from grace, be it in fiction or the news. After giving us two of the biggest hits in West End history (Les Miserables and Miss Saigon), Boubil and Schönberg began their decline with Martin Guerre before falling flat on their faces with last year’s Broadway bomb The Pirate Queen. While Marguerite, which they contributed the book and lyrics to, is far from being a top notch work, it shows that this legendary duo are working their way back up.
Marguerite resets Alexander Dumas’s novel Le Dame Aux Camèlias in the second world war. The title character is a high end prostitute turned singer turned prostitute who’s shacking up with a Nazi general in occupied France, while her society associates take advantage of her position for rations and to raise their own standing in what is viewed as the new pecking order. The show opens at the end of the story, as the populace turn against Marguerite (Ruthie Henshall) before we flash back to her birthday party some time earlier. As the British bomb Paris, our protagonist has a brief encounter with pianist Armand (Julian Ovenden) playing the event. As the two fall in love, we follow a parallel storyline as Armand’s sister (Annalene Beechey) works for the resistance with Jewish lover Lucienne. While the concept is a good idea, it’s not without flaw and at times feels like an exercise in expressing national guilt over the natives' actions under the Vichy government.
Unfortunately, there’s just no real reason to care about Marguerite the character. It’s shown from the beginning that she doesn’t love Otto (Alexander Hanson), but is merely using him. While she talks of the great risks of meeting (and sleeping) with Armand, we are given no real sense of danger until the second act, and never any emotional ties to this woman. When Otto dies during the second act and Marguerite finds herself without friends or finance, she sings a “How did this happen to me?” song. The answer, of course, is pretty simple: she fucked the man for his money and the gravy train got derailed when her lover shot him. There’s no subtext to the character, just a self-pitying opportunist who finds herself playing romance Tetris like in any other romance novel or women’s manga.
Michel Legrand’s score is beautifully orchestrated traditional musical theatre with a clear period influence, but it’s not especially memorable, and there’s not a song that immediately grabs your ear and demands repeating on your iPod. Herbert Kretzmer’s translation of Alain Boubil’s original French lyrics is simplistic. The rhymes are functional and suit the piece, they’re also uninspired, and there’s no subtext or greater intelligence to them. While not every musical demands a “Color and Light” or even a “My Psychopharmacologist and I”, some greater depth in the words (including the book which claims three authors) would go a long way towards making the title character sympathetic,.
Not that Ruthie Henshall doesn’t try. Utilising a classical soprano for most of her songs, Ms. Henshall sings in fine form, though her emotions are forced or outright lacking during scenes such as the opening party and when she begs Otto to spare Armand. Likewise, Mr. Hanson’s Otto is an archetype and not a character, flat until Marguerite angers him, and we don’t see any of the love he professes - the two are together for convenience. Mr. Ovenden’s Armand fares better, but Ms. Beechey steals the show as conflicted resistance fighter Annette.
The real star, however, is Paul Brown’s glamourous set, evocative of the era’s films combined with Mark Henderson’s sepia toned lighting. While the RZ found himself groaning when he first saw a turntable in use, the designs reminded him more of Rebecca than Les Miz. And yes, the much discussed explosion at the end of the second scene is truly impressive.
Overall, Marguerite is a misplaced love story where the side characters prove more engaging than the principals. There are certainly worse things running in London, and Legrand’s score justifies the cost of tickets. However, the piece isn’t ready for a West End run. Had the RZ seen it in Cardiff or Manchester as an out of town tryout, he’d have said that some focused rewrites could shape things up, but he saw it four days before the London press night. There’s no word on if revisions will continue after the official opening, but Marguerite needs work should there be plans to transfer. As it stands, the show is only OK.
Where: Theatre Royal, Haymarket
When: M-Sa @ 19:30, W/Sa @ 14:30 until November.
How Much: £25-£60
Concessions: £20 day seats when the BO opens. Seniors can advance book W Matinees for £25, disabled seats are £25 advance bookable. Students £20 stalls/£12.50 upper circle on the day.
----------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £32.50. Treat it like a concert with sets and costumes, it’s just not “there” enough to pay full price, but one can justify half.
RZ Other Notes: The RZ recommends the creative team go across the street to see Brief Encounter as a reminder of how less than ideal characters can be emotionally engaging before going back to revise this show. Couples looking for an evening at something romantic would be encouraged to do the same.
Marguerite resets Alexander Dumas’s novel Le Dame Aux Camèlias in the second world war. The title character is a high end prostitute turned singer turned prostitute who’s shacking up with a Nazi general in occupied France, while her society associates take advantage of her position for rations and to raise their own standing in what is viewed as the new pecking order. The show opens at the end of the story, as the populace turn against Marguerite (Ruthie Henshall) before we flash back to her birthday party some time earlier. As the British bomb Paris, our protagonist has a brief encounter with pianist Armand (Julian Ovenden) playing the event. As the two fall in love, we follow a parallel storyline as Armand’s sister (Annalene Beechey) works for the resistance with Jewish lover Lucienne. While the concept is a good idea, it’s not without flaw and at times feels like an exercise in expressing national guilt over the natives' actions under the Vichy government.
Unfortunately, there’s just no real reason to care about Marguerite the character. It’s shown from the beginning that she doesn’t love Otto (Alexander Hanson), but is merely using him. While she talks of the great risks of meeting (and sleeping) with Armand, we are given no real sense of danger until the second act, and never any emotional ties to this woman. When Otto dies during the second act and Marguerite finds herself without friends or finance, she sings a “How did this happen to me?” song. The answer, of course, is pretty simple: she fucked the man for his money and the gravy train got derailed when her lover shot him. There’s no subtext to the character, just a self-pitying opportunist who finds herself playing romance Tetris like in any other romance novel or women’s manga.
Michel Legrand’s score is beautifully orchestrated traditional musical theatre with a clear period influence, but it’s not especially memorable, and there’s not a song that immediately grabs your ear and demands repeating on your iPod. Herbert Kretzmer’s translation of Alain Boubil’s original French lyrics is simplistic. The rhymes are functional and suit the piece, they’re also uninspired, and there’s no subtext or greater intelligence to them. While not every musical demands a “Color and Light” or even a “My Psychopharmacologist and I”, some greater depth in the words (including the book which claims three authors) would go a long way towards making the title character sympathetic,.
Not that Ruthie Henshall doesn’t try. Utilising a classical soprano for most of her songs, Ms. Henshall sings in fine form, though her emotions are forced or outright lacking during scenes such as the opening party and when she begs Otto to spare Armand. Likewise, Mr. Hanson’s Otto is an archetype and not a character, flat until Marguerite angers him, and we don’t see any of the love he professes - the two are together for convenience. Mr. Ovenden’s Armand fares better, but Ms. Beechey steals the show as conflicted resistance fighter Annette.
The real star, however, is Paul Brown’s glamourous set, evocative of the era’s films combined with Mark Henderson’s sepia toned lighting. While the RZ found himself groaning when he first saw a turntable in use, the designs reminded him more of Rebecca than Les Miz. And yes, the much discussed explosion at the end of the second scene is truly impressive.
Overall, Marguerite is a misplaced love story where the side characters prove more engaging than the principals. There are certainly worse things running in London, and Legrand’s score justifies the cost of tickets. However, the piece isn’t ready for a West End run. Had the RZ seen it in Cardiff or Manchester as an out of town tryout, he’d have said that some focused rewrites could shape things up, but he saw it four days before the London press night. There’s no word on if revisions will continue after the official opening, but Marguerite needs work should there be plans to transfer. As it stands, the show is only OK.
Where: Theatre Royal, Haymarket
When: M-Sa @ 19:30, W/Sa @ 14:30 until November.
How Much: £25-£60
Concessions: £20 day seats when the BO opens. Seniors can advance book W Matinees for £25, disabled seats are £25 advance bookable. Students £20 stalls/£12.50 upper circle on the day.
----------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £32.50. Treat it like a concert with sets and costumes, it’s just not “there” enough to pay full price, but one can justify half.
RZ Other Notes: The RZ recommends the creative team go across the street to see Brief Encounter as a reminder of how less than ideal characters can be emotionally engaging before going back to revise this show. Couples looking for an evening at something romantic would be encouraged to do the same.
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