LONDON TRIP REVIEWS

July 03

This being the third trip (of length) I have made to el capitál inside a year, it will probably be my last for a while. Just as well, then, that it was hugely enjoyable, amid the sunshine and warmth of the summer. Who needs to go abroad on holiday anyway?

Absolutely! (Perhaps) - Wyndhams
When I was planning what to see on this trip, this originally missed the cut. That was before the speedy closure of Ragtime (which put a whole in my plans), and the good reviews, which made it the obvious replacement. Unfortunately, Joan Plowright was ‘indisposed’ for this performance, but the understudy performed amiably, along with the rest of the cast. Oliver Ford Davies stood out in his affable way, playing the interlocutor of the piece. Deep stuff this, if you think about it, and the play does a good job of prompting the audience to do just that - to think about the idea of the self and the perception of others - a subject on which philosophers have waxed lyrical for millennia. The tales outlined in explanation of the mysterious arrangement at the centre of the play whiz past at such a pace that it’s easy to lose track of who said what, and when, and I’m sure many will be confused, but perhaps that’s the point - the audience joins the characters on stage in their confusion. It is a cautionary tale of taking gossip too far - of trying to find the truth of the matter when ‘the truth’ is an evasive and, in any case, largely illusory thing. “These people are quite blind, you know, they can’t see the illusion within themselves. The ghost inside our souls. They chase after other people’s ghosts but they can’t see their own”. Certainly this is entertaining, dramatic and humorous, but it is more than these, it is also intelligent and thought-provoking - and that’s rare.

Chicago - Adelphi
Many said that the film (especially being as successful as it was) would ring the death-knell for the stage version of Chicago - but instead it has led to something of a renaissance for the show. Perhaps this will help remove some of the shackles for other film adaptations (I hear the movie of Phantom Of The Opera is back on the move once more), and then again, perhaps that is a little over-optimistic.

Anyway, a packed house sat down to see the return of Ruthie Henshall - as Velma Kelly, this time (having played Roxie in the original London cast; Velma on Broadway). “Ruthie is back” proclaim the flyers, and back she most certainly is. It is a testament to her professionalism that she is back on stage only a few months after becoming a mother, and that she makes it all look so effortless. The ‘popular’ press have leapt upon many new (especially celebrity) faces treading the boards in recent years, crowning several new ‘queens of the West End stage’, but one stands above the rest - and Ruthie is she.

There were a couple of minor question marks. The first of which was Ruthie’s hairstyle, which seemed as odds with the rest of the cast and not very 20s/30s Chicago. The second was the understudy for Mama Morton (Rachel Pressland) who seemed to be forcing the notes too much - and I’m sure I heard a wrong note in there as well. This aside, every member of what is obviously a high-quality cast gave a consummate performance. There have also been a few presentational tweaks here and there, adding a little more humour and helping keep the piece fresh.

Les Miserables - Palace
This cast evolves into another come the end of July - those coming into the troop have a high standard to maintain. No Michael McCarthy (Javert) for this performance, but his understudy, Alan Vicary, was suitably excellent in his place. Hans-Peter Janssen (Valjean) has improved his performance in the role almost to perfection since I last visited in January, and Sophia Ragavelas (whose photo is plastered all over central London advertising the show) is also worthy of mention as the tragic Eponine. This is still a truly magnificent show, with a magnificent cast to match.

Tell Me On A Sunday - Gielgud
Denise Van Outen excels in this show, and makes it just about watchable for the full distance. Nevertheless, it is gratefully short and packed into one act rather than padded out to two. The story (such as it is) never really grabs the attention and seems to repeat itself several times without any consequential differences in each repeat. True, there are some good songs in this - and you would expect that from the Lloyd Webber pen - but they are dispersed by essentially expositional pieces set to music. One or two of these would have been ok, but they form a fair chunk of the show. There was no need, as far as I can tell, for these to be sung rather than spoken - monologues could have been just as effective, would have had to be much more taut, and would have added a little variety to the pacing of the show as well.

What the piece lacks is a ‘soul’ - a raison d’être. Cataloguing a girl’s in-and-out-of-love-ness over a period is not enough. It doesn’t pass any great or insightful comment on her, her boyfriends, or the relationships they have - either specifically or in general (at least, not explicitly). She also doesn’t seem to learn from any of her mistakes - even at the conclusion you’re not convinced she won’t continue to go through the same pattern as before, despite her assertion to the contrary. It’s an unsatisfactory piece over-all, saved by a few good songs, the odd catchy riff, and Denise herself.

Calamity Jane - Shaftesbury
Oh dear. There is a word that adequately describes almost every element of this production - that word is “weak”. This fails to engage on almost every level. Calamity Jane is an average musical - though there are some good numbers, there are no real showstoppers - so it requires a good production with a strong cast to lift it to a higher level. Unfortunately, it doesn’t get either here. An average cast goes through its paces well enough, but the script is loose (and towards the end, increasingly ridiculous), the direction is flabby, and although the choreography and set design are adequate, there is nothing new and they are used without invention. Granted, the creation of atmosphere is difficult with an audience barely exceeding the performers and theatre staff (around 100 - on a Friday evening) but this really is a poor show. Toyah Wilcox doesn’t have the on-stage charisma required, or the clarity or strength of voice to lead the cast, and the only performer with the vocal power necessary for the role he plays (Michael Cornick - Wild Bill Hickok) lacks the stature to fill the boots of a character a whole town is supposed to admire.

I can see how this got by in the (perhaps smaller) regional theatres (it’s arrived in London off the back of an 18 month tour), but it really isn’t anywhere near good enough for the West End. It’s a strange world in which this show gets a ‘guaranteed’ run through to September (playing to an increasingly sparse auditorium, I suspect), when a superb show with an excellent cast like Ragtime (which I thankfully got to see before its closure) gets withdrawn early, after an already-limited outing.

Pacific Overtures - Donmar Warehouse
Magnificent. It’s not the best-known Sondheim show, and the reviews have been patchy, so I wasn’t sure what I was going to make of this. However, this is a wonderful production in every respect. In the intimate surroundings of the Donmar, and ‘in-the-round’, it is an incredibly involving performance (and educational too - a history lesson on Japan). Set on a minimalist stage reflecting the Japanese proclivity, with only minor changes to costumes, it is the cast on whom the attention focuses - and they do not falter. This is truly an ensemble piece - though there are central characters, every member plays an integral part. It is also viciously funny in places (especially in “Chrysanthemum Tea” and in the pastiches of “Please, Hello”), but the humour is always there for a purpose - not merely to poke fun. This is proof, if proof were needed, that quality doesn’t need a seven-figure budget.

It is noticeable that the number of foreign tourists is still subdued. The extended melange of war and terror (augmented this year, perhaps, by SARS) is obviously still holding sway. While a ‘regular’ may at first welcome the easing of pedestrian congestion, it’s clear that the longer this lasts, the more it will hurt London and it’s tourist-dependent theatres. For the Brits, I have a proclamation: Your capital needs YOU. I may not have the finger-pointing gravitas of Lord Kitchener, and it may not ultimately be a matter of life and death, but if it is possible for you to, do try to make at least one trip to the theatre in London this year. If you’ve already made one, encourage someone else to go. Treat it as a charitable exercise, if that helps, and do your bit for our culture. END.

(July 2003 / David Heppell / david.heppell@eidosnet.co.uk