50 Favourite Musicals: 19: TITANIC (1997) (Maury Yeston)

The 50 shows that have stood out down the years and, as we get up among the paint cards, the shows that have become the cast recording of my life:

First performed: 1997, Lunt-Fontanne Theatre, NY

First seen by me: 2013, Southwark Playhouse, London

Productions seen: two

Score: Maury Yeston
Book: Peter Stone
Plot:  April, 1912: the 'unsinkable' RMS Titanic leaves Southampton to sail across the Atlantic Ocean to New York with a cross-section of society aboard.  It never arrived...

Five memorable numbers: GODSPEED: TITANIC, BARRETT'S SONG, LADY'S MAID, NO MOON, WE'LL MEET TOMORROW

There was a lot of raised eyebrows when it was announced that a musical was to appear on Broadway based on the sinking of the Titanic - it sounded like something from a comedy script; who would play the iceberg?  Was the stage going to tip up or would they just flood the theatre?  How would critics stop themselves from the obvious gags about the show going down with all hands etc.?  But then something rather odd happened... it opened and although there were some mixed reviews, there were also some raves including this from the New Yorker: "It seemed a foregone conclusion that the show would be a failure; a musical about history's most tragic maiden voyage, in which fifteen hundred people lost their lives, was obviously preposterous [but] astonishingly, TITANIC manages to be grave and entertaining, somber and joyful; little by little you realize that you are in the presence of a genuine addition to American musical theatre."  On the back of the positivity about it, I bought the Cast Recording and immediately fell in love with Maury Yeston's masterly score.  It takes in a wide range of contemporaneous musical styles of 1912: ragtime trots, Gilbert & Sullivan pastiches, stirring Elgar-esque themes, choral work, hymns, folk airs, all filtered through a traditional Broadway score of ballads and up-tempo numbers.  TITANIC found an audience on Broadway and ran for nearly two years - indeed, although James Cameron's film opened in December 1997, it actually helped increase the show's attendance rather than the reverse as was expected.  At awards time, it won each of the five Tony Awards it was nominated for including Peter Stone's sober book, Yeston's score and the big one, Best Musical.

Then something even odder happened: TITANIC became a much sought-after show for amateur dramatic companies, final-year student productions and international companies who all realized that the show's minimalist designs, recognizable name and possibilities for large casts made it ideal for them.  I had to wait 16 years until the Southwark Playhouse and director Thom Southerland took a chance on staging it and was completely won over by the show; I knew the score of course but loved how the late Peter Stone's book showed what could be achieved in storytelling within a musical setting and was struck how often he comes back to the fact that on Titanic everything depended on what class you were, even in the ultimate extreme of whether you lived or died.  Three years later, Southerland was made Artistic Director of the equally snug Charing Cross Theatre and it was great that his first production was a revival of his Southwark Playhouse TITANIC, giving more people a chance to see it and experience Yeston's breath-taking score.  Maury Yeston is represented by three musicals in my Top 50 - NINE (#39), GRAND HOTEL (#20) and now TITANIC (#19).  They are three scores that glow with excellence.  Now all together: "Sail on, Sail on / Great ship Titanic...."

There is a fair few TITANIC videos available on YouTube but they fall a bit short; the 1997 Broadway clips are not the best quality and most of the others are filmed amateur productions so I will stick to the trailer for Thom Southerland's Southwark production when it sailed over to the Charing Cross Theatre.

50 Favourite Musicals: 20: GRAND HOTEL (1989) (Robert Wright / George Forrest / Maury Yeston)

The 50 shows that have stood out down the years and, as we get up among the paint cards, the shows that have become the cast recording of my life:

First performed: 1989, Martin Beck Theatre, NY

First seen by me: 1992, Dominion, London

Productions seen: five

Score: Robert Wright / George Forrest / Maury Yeston
Book: Luther Davis
Plot:  Berlin, 1928: the Grand Hotel's visitors and staff live lives of quiet desperation and within 24 hours, some will be changed forever:  the famous ballerina Grushinskaya is fighting age and falling audiences attended by her dresser Raffaela who secretly loves her, Baron Felix Von Gaigern is eluding his creditors with dwindling success, businessman Hermann Preysing has lied to his board of directors about a financial merger and needs to travel to the US to save it, temp secretary Flaemmchen is just surviving between jobs and discovers she is pregnant when assigned to Preysing as a typist, and the dying book-keeper Otto Kringelein - who knows all of Preysing's secrets - has left his sanatorium to check into the Grand Hotel for one last happy memory...

Five memorable numbers: LOVE CAN'T HAPPEN, WE'LL TAKE A GLASS TOGETHER, I WANT TO GO TO HOLLYWOOD, ROSES AT THE STATION, AT THE GRAND HOTEL

A musical which shows you should never give up.  In 1958, book writer Luther Davis and song-writers George Forrest and Robert Wright decided to follow their hit KISMET with a musical based on Vicki Baum's novel and the MGM film GRAND HOTEL, titled AT THE GRAND starring KISMET actress Joan Deiner (with her husband signed to direct) and the 1930s film star Paul Muni.   But Muni was unhappy, and despite his role being made bigger, he eventually quit and AT THE GRAND closed on the West Coast.  Whip-pan to 1988: director/choreographer Tommy Tune was given AT THE GRAND to work his magic on after his recent Broadway hit NINE; as he did with his previous show he totally revised it and when Wright, Forrest and Davis balked at his changes, Tune gave the score to NINE composer Maury Yeston to doctor it and add several songs of his own.  The book was also doctored by Peter Stone who refused a writing credit.

Tune's chic, minimalist production ran on Broadway for over 2 years, winning five Tony Awards, although not for score or book. I saw Tune's production in 1992 at the Dominion Theatre when it opened with Lilianne Montevecchi reprising her role as Grushinskaya but the barn-like Dominion did the production no favours and it closed after only four months.  I could see good things in it but it just didn't grab me.  I saw GRAND HOTEL again in 2000 at the Guildhall school performed by final year students but finally 'connected' with it when Michael Grandage directed a thrilling Olivier award-winning production at the Donmar in 2004 with Julien Ovenden as the Baron, Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio as Grushinskaya, Helen Baker as Flaemmchen and Daniel Evans as Kringelein.  Finally the show's strength was revealed in a smaller, more direct approach.  I felt more engaged with the characters and the hidden jewels in the score stood out more.  A further Guildhall production was followed by another chamber version at the Southwark Playhouse.  Staged as a traverse production, it was inventive and enjoyable but suffered at the end from a striving for profundity that was misplaced.  As with recent productions of CABARET, It's a bit of a lazy option to end any musical set in 1930s Germany with concentration camp imagery.  Although Forrest and Wright's score included such fine book numbers as "Maybe My Baby Loves Me", "Who Couldn't Dance With You?" and "We'll Take A Glass Together", it is Maury Yeston's songs that give the characters wonderful moments of clarity and depth: Flaemmchen's desperate "I Want To Go To Hollywood", Grushinskaya's sweeping "Toujours Amour" and more importantly The Baron's two solos "Love Can't Happen" and "Roses At The Station" are both remarkable compositions; it's Yeston's contributions that make GRAND HOTEL a show that suddenly touches your heart.

I was sorely tempted to post the wonderful Tony Awards segment of the late Michael Jeter and Brent Barrett stopping the show with "We'll Take A Glass Together" which illustrates how Jeter won a Tony Award for Best Supporting Actor for the role of Otto but that would not do justice to the rest of the score so here is a selection of songs from the 2018 Encores! staged concert.



Ps. click here!

50 Favourite Musicals: 21: THE HARDER THEY COME (2006) (Jimmy Cliff / various)

The 50 shows that have stood out down the years and, as we get up among the paint cards, the shows that have become the cast recording of my life:

First performed: 2006, Stratford East, London

First seen by me: 2008, Barbican, London

Productions seen: one

Score: Jimmy Cliff / Frederick Hibbert / various
Book: Perry Henzell
Plot:  Country boy Ivan arrives in Kingston, Jamaica to seek his fortune but finds life hard.  He lands a recording contact with a crooked record producer but the producer short-changes him.  He starts smuggling cannabis with a friend which alerts the police to him.  Ivan is soon Kingston's Most Wanted Man but when the record publisher puts out Ivan's records to cash in, he becomes a Robin Hood figure to the public... but the police are closing in...

Five memorable numbers: THE HARDER THEY COME, YOU CAN GET IT IF YOU REALLY WANT, SWEET AND DANDY, PRESSURE DROP, 007 (SHANTY TOWN)

It is interesting how this list is repeatedly throwing up the problem of whether it is the material or the production that makes it stay on my list of favourite musicals; here it is probably the former as Kerry Michael's wonderful production brought me back several times.  The production was first staged at the Theatre Royal, Stratford East by Artistic Director Michael and was so successful it transferred to the cavernous Barbican Theatre and then to the more intimate Playhouse Theatre where sadly it could not find an audience - apart from us!  However the show proved successful on a UK tour and made it to NY and Canada too.  The original film's director Perry Henzell had written the first version of the stage musical but sadly died in 2006, the year it was first staged.  The show is told in flashback: Pedro is hosting the Nine Night wake for the sorrowing friends of Ivan and their collective thoughts take them back to the day when he arrived fresh and naive from the country on the mean streets of Kingston.  The production was played on an empty stage, the onstage band upstage surrounded by the tables and chairs that made up the scenery, the walls of the stage painted in faded red, gold and green, for all intents like a drab church hall - they even projected a scratchy print of Franco Nero in DJANGO on the back hall during the interval.  The joy of the show was the wonderful cast - Rolan Bell was wonderfully charismatic as Ivan and the show gave marvellous opportunities to three black actors who have mostly worked in UK black theatre, film and tv since the 1980s - Marcus Powell was deliciously slippery as Hilton the corrupt record producer, Victor Romero Evans was splenetic as the preacher who makes Ivan's life misery when he first arrives in Kingston (although we also saw him play the laid-back Pedro at the Barbican) and Chris Tummings was fantastically scary as Roy Pierre, Kingston's chief of police and also was responsible for one of the night's highlights, singing a storming version of Toots and The Maytal's PRESSURE DROP.  It was a show that, again, highlighted the wealth of UK black performers and also delivered a wonderful immersive, inclusive night every time.

As usual there is not much video available on the stage version of THE HARDER THEY COME but luckily for me the legendary Jimmy Cliff came along one night to see the show based on his film and he joined the hard-working cast onstage for a reprise of the title song!  Go deh!

SWEAT at the Gielgud - Hard Times...

With a Pultzer Prize for Drama tucked in it's overalls pocket, Lynn Nottage's grim tale SWEAT swaggers into the chintzy surroundings of the Gielgud Theatre from it's opening run at the Donmar; it's a juxtaposition it just about manages to transcend.

Nottage wrote her play after two years of extensive research in and around the city of Reading in Pennsylvania; this city was reported to be one of the poorest in the USA with a poverty level of 40%.  Reading saw a dizzying decline after 2007 with it's industrial jobs being decimated through factory closures and companies relocating.  Her findings which were later made into this play hold no great surprises - demoralized workers feeling used and abandoned by business but with no redress - through political or social channels - other than blame the wrong factors for the job losses.

I cannot help but feel that the play - although involving in an Arthur Miller-esque way - is quite basic and has possibly been over-praised for being what it is.  Fault lines are alluded to but are left hanging, certain characters are given more grace and favour treatment than others while issues slowly slink back to make room for the plot where we know from flash-forwarding That Something Bad Happened.

Two young recently-released prisoners are interviewed by the same probation officer and in these interviews they both mention that they have seen each other around town and are worried how that will be for their rehabilitation.  We learn that they are African-American Chris and Caucasian Jason both of whom Have Done Something Bad eight years before.  They were friends having grown up together as their mothers had been best friends and co-workers in the same pipe factory.

Their mothers Cynthia and Tracey - along with their ex-hippy friend Jessie -have a strong bond from working side by side for years and enjoying the after-work camaraderie in the nearby saloon run by Stan, an ex-Vietnam veteran - yes that old staple - who also worked with them until a factory injury made him a bar-keep instead.  Hovering in the background is also Brucie, Cynthia's ex-husband and Chris' father, once a powerful union man who after one too many brushes with the Man is now a junkie floating through life.

The plot turns on a supervisor job at the factory that both Cynthia and Tracey apply for; Cynthia gets the promotion and that, almost imperceptibly, starts the rot in their friendship as Tracey harbours a very quiet resentment at having been passed over.  Suddenly, Cynthia finds her new job is in fact Nessus' shirt - no sooner has she started the job then the management start pushing for the workers having to re-apply for their jobs, cuts in pay and longer working hours - all under the guise of streamlining productivity, and claiming their hands are tied.

Cynthia tries to keep her friends updated on all that she knows but soon realizes that the promotion probably only happened so the managers would have a patsy to filter bad news down to the shop-floor.  Tracey's anger at Cynthia catches fire and she turns against her, especially when word gets out that the management is targeting Hispanics to fill the jobs of the by-now striking workforce.  It's a situation where the only winners are the unseen managers; the former workers are left jobless, the factory vanishes to Mexico, bitter resentment is in the air when out of nowhere, a Bad Thing Happens.

There was much to admire in Nottage's play and she certainly addresses the febrile nature of workers who in the past few years, through snake-oil selling, media mis-information and their own intolerance, find themselves all too ready to lash out at anything and everything.  But I also found her plot to be fairly routine and also fairly predictable - I could sense who was going to be the victim of The Bad Thing Happening but to Nottage's credit, she changed the victim at the last second. It did however lead to a fairly obvious and clunky final image of the victim of these stupid times being the good person or people damaged forever,

Lynette Linton has certainly delivered a production that echoes the solid metal pipes and girders that tower over Frankie Bradshaw's bar-room set but it is also a monotone world where no humour is allowed to penetrate and ultimately the grim atmosphere became too one-note; as I said earlier, I was reminded of Arthur Miller's A VIEW FROM THE BRIDGE while watching it - but unlike Miller, Nottage can offer no illumination of her character's lives - they are hard-working and noble or hard-working and venal with no contrast or shade.  I wonder how she would have portrayed her unseen bosses?  In this, I was also reminded of Matthew Lopez' THE INHERITANCE which was unafraid to plant a Trump-supporting Republican right at the centre of the play but also had the awareness to not make him an out-and-out villain as most playwrights would do.

SWEAT does boast some remarkable performances: Clare Perkins delivers a strong Cynthia, who watches lifelong friendships evaporate while trying to do right by them, Martha Plimpton is a coruscating Tracey whose harbouring a lifetime of resentments boils over scarring everyone including herself and Stuart McQuarrie as Stan, a man who tries to keep his bar a safe haven for all but who cannot stop the rising anger and violence from it's doors.

There were also good performances from Patrick Gibson and Osy Ikhile as the two sons who in a moment of madness assign themselves the roles that society was just waiting to throw on them, and Leanne Best as Tracey and Cynthia's friend Jessie, who allows herself occasionally to remember the idealism of her teenage years before booze overwhelms the pain.

It certainly isn't the first US play to be shown up as somewhat over-lauded in transferring to London but it is one that I suspect will niggle away at me.  What I did wonder was, would a similar play about the miner's strike or any number of factories that have closed down in the north of England or in Wales find a home on Shaftesbury Avenue or is SWEAT 'allowable' as it's Rust Belt Americana can be viewed as separate from our own angry, vindictive under-class?

I also cannot help but wonder how a production about the corrosive effects of capitalism can charge £107.25 for Premium Seating?

TOSCA at Covent Garden - Up On The Roof...

The current score?  English National Opera 1 - Royal Opera 2

So after first seeing TOSCA onstage in 2016 performed by the ENO, we have now seen it at Covent Garden twice in Jonathan Kent's wonderfully fluid and thrilling production.  Yes I know what happens in the end but that's really not the point.  It's being there and experiencing Puccini's huge score played live by the Royal Opera House Orchestra, seeing singers belting out their passions while having your emotions wrung out to dry.

TOSCA had premiered in Rome only six months before it was first performed in London at the Opera House in 1900 and our tragic, headstrong heroine has swept across it's stage practically every year since then, only taking a break when the theatres closed at the outbreak of the World Wars.

Giacomo Puccini insisted that the original Sardou play be stripped by his librettist to the bare minimum, nothing was to distract from the main characters' triangular relationship of fate, namely the diva Floria Tosca and her Republican lover Caravadossi who fall foul to the machinations of chief of police Scarpia in the tinderbox atmosphere of Rome in summer, 1800 as Napoleon's army advances.

Jonathan Kent's 2006 production has been restaged by Andrew Sinclair but the production now stands as a tribute to the designer Paul Brown who died in 2017.  His wonderful designs for TOSCA have an epic quality to them - his Act 1 Sant'Andrea della Valle chapel is wonderfully realized especially in the Te Deum scene, with the front-stage occupied by Scarpia in the gloomy chapel while above and behind it, the main church is ablaze with light as a mass is sung to celebrate the alleged defeat of Napoleon.

The Act 2 palazzo apartment for Scarpia is dominated by a huge statue of a conquering figure with drawn sword which, of course, mirrors the later action where Tosca kills Scarpia - although when she sings her magnificent aria "Vissi d'arte", it's huge size dwarfs her to mirror the supplicating song she is singing.  Brown's Act 3 battlements for the Castel Sant'Angelo are stark and dramatic; after the cluttered and claustrophobic sets, here Tosca and Caravadossi can, for a few minutes at least, sing their love to the heavens with the wind in their hair.

Mark Henderson's lighting was as wonderfully evocative as ever: the Act 1 Te Deum performed in a blaze of light in the main church while Scarpia plots in the shadows of the chapel, the end of Act 2 with the pinpoints of candle-light in Scarpia's palazzo room and then the barely noticeable change from night to grey dawn in Act 3.  Something I had never noticed before is Puccini's use of the bells of Rome which seem to toll all over the city to proclaim the dawn; this is achieved by having sets of bells set up all along the backstage area to get the suitable sound of church-bells near and far and with different tones.  It is wonderfully effective and of course added to the magnificent soundscape provided by the orchestra under the baton of Alexander Joel.

There was a mighty intake of breath before the start when the curtains opened to reveal a woman with a hand-mike; she said that Kristine Opolais (Tosca) and Vittorio Grigolo (Carravadossi) were suffering from colds - "GROAN" said the audience - however they both were still going to perform and asked forgiveness for any shortcomings - "HURRAY" said the audience.

You would never know they were suffering as they both gave full-throated performances as our troubled lovers with both hitting their peak at the right time - Opolais with a heart wrenching "Vissi d'arte" and Grigolo with a spellbinding "And The Stars Shone" both of which were rewarded with huge ovations and lusty cries of 'Brava' (no, it wasn't me doing that!)  Bryn Terfel was a deliciously nasty Scarpia, commanding the stage with great presence and lampshade-rattling vocal power.

TOSCA will be back at Covent Garden next summer; I can get my fix by watching the Royal Opera House's 2012 DVD of Jonathan Kent's production... but... you never know...

THE FIREBIRD / A MONTH IN THE COUNTRY / SYMPHONY IN C at Covent Garden - Rushin' Russian

In a recent blog I mentioned that The Royal Ballet's mixed programmes can sometimes be a tricky balancing act but no such problems with their last of their season, three ballets with a markedly Russian theme.

First we had Mikhael Fokine's 1910 sensation THE FIREBIRD which marked a number of firsts: the first ballet score by Igor Stravinsky, the first original work that Diaghilev's Ballets Russes had presented in Paris, and the first based on Russian folklore.  The Royal Ballet is using Natalia Goncharova's stage designs for the Ballets Russes 1926 revival and they add a whole unexpected level to the piece.

THE FIREBIRD made it's London debut at the Opera House in 1912 and it was also a big success.  That connection amazingly continues to this day: the original Firebird was danced by Tamara Karsavina - a role which catapulted her to the Ballets Russes top table - and she in turn coached Margot Fonteyn in 1954... who coached Monica Mason in the late 1970s... and who is now on hand to help the new generation; I think it's only in ballet that you can find connections like this.

The plot is minimal: Tsarovich Ivan captures the mythical Firebird while hunting in a hidden part of the forest but she persuades Ivan to free her in exchange for one of her feathers which will summon her should he ever be in danger.  Ivan discovers a group of princesses captured by the evil Magician Koschei and falls for the most beautiful but is quickly surrounded by Koschei's army of enslaved humans.  He waves the magic feather and The Firebird appears to confuse and confound Koschei's army who all collapse in exhaustion; the Firebird also shows Ivan where Koschei keeps a magic egg which holds his immortal soul.  Ivan smashes it and frees the enslaved people who stage a magnificent wedding ceremony for Ivan and his princess.

The tale might be trite but Stravinsky's thumping score sounded fresh and vivid and Christopher Carr's staging is an excellent showcase for Fokine's intriguing choreography and the elaborate staging of the climactic ceremonial procession where row after row of costumed extras fill the stage, it might not be ballet but it certainly is a spectacle!  It was great to see a favourite dancer Itziar Mendizabal playing the lead role of the flashing Firebird; she was imperious while always in fluttering flight.  It was just a shame that The Firebird doesn't make an appearance at the coronation.  There was a bit of a "whoops" moment when Nehemiah Kish's Ivan was brandishing the magic egg to the ensemble... and the top fell off and rolled across the stage!

The mood changed totally for the next ballet, Frederick Ashton's 1976 adaptation of the Turgenev play A MONTH IN THE COUNTRY.  As elaborate and colourful as THE FIREBIRD was, Ashton's A MONTH IN THE COUNTRY was nuanced and intimate. 

As in the play, Natalia Petrovna rules her country home with a charming grace, adored by her husband Ysiaev, her son Kolia, her ward Vera and their close friend Rakitin.  Her life is turned upside down however when her son's new tutor arrives, the handsome student Baliaev.  He returns Natalia's affections but when Vera discovers them together, she jealously alerts the whole family to their subterfuge; Baliaev and Rakitin leave the house and Natalia is left alone with her lovelorn feelings.

Dame Peggy Ashcroft told Ashton that his version of the play was better than the original play and at only 40 minutes it certainly doesn't waste time getting on with the central plotline.  It has Ashton's clean, classic tone and economic story-telling, leaving it to the dancers to interpret his characters with the depth they need, but he also provides delightful solos for others including a character dance for Natalia's son Kolya, created for Wayne Sleep and danced splendidly here by Luca Acri.

It is a haunting cameo of a ballet, perfectly matched to a selected score of music by Chopin. The cast were all fine: David Hallberg was good as the tutor Baliaev as was Meaghan Grace Hinkis as the impressionable Vera.  But the heart of the ballet was provided by the remarkable Natalia Osipova - languorous lady of the manor at the start, she slowly blossomed into a woman in love only to be left crushed and alone, slowly walking towards an uncertain future.  It is remarkable that only three weeks ago she was the vengeful and tragic Medusa.

Last was George Balanchine's stupendous SYMPHONY IN C, a celebration of classical ballet and it's dancers.  We saw this last year where it joyfully stood out in a rather dour mixed programme but here it complemented the previous two very well.  

Danced to a score by Bizet, Balanchine originally premiered it in Paris in 1947 but he re-choreographed it for New York City Ballet the following year.  Balanchine was inspired by his early years dancing first with the Russian Imperial Ballet and then his years with the Ballet Russes during the 1920s.

Four couples dance to four different movements and Balanchine provides a whirlwind of pure classical technique: it's like every classical ballet finale only in abstract - no narrative, no named characters - so you can relish the solos, pas de deux and ensemble routines.  With over 50 dancers all dancing in unison onstage as it reaches it's conclusion, it is wonderfully thrilling.

All in all, a wonderful night of ballet which helped having the cohesive Russian feel. Ironically, the Royal Ballet will be having a rest over the summer months while The Bolshoi Ballet jet in from Russia for a season, but this was an evening to savour.

RUTHERFORD AND SON at the Lyttelton, NT - Emotions Under Glass

In 1912 a play opened at the Royal Court which received such praise that it transferred to the Vaudeville Theatre where it ran for a respectable 133 performances.  RUTHERFORD AND SON, a family drama set against a Northern factory background, chimed with the recent social dramas of Granville Barker, Galsworthy and Shaw; in the same year, the play even appeared in New York.

KG Sowerby's debut play should have launched the writer to success but soon after the play's opening it was revealed that the playwright was a woman, Githa Sowerby.  Newspapers curiously interviewed this odd phenomenon of a female playwright and reported how such a demure lady could write such a hard-hitting work - in truth she was 35 and had a lifetime of experience to help her write her semi-autobiographical play.

Githa's family owned a glass works on the Tyne in Gateshead and she drew directly from that world for the background to her family drama.  She continued to write children's literature and a further six plays but none had the success of RUTHERFORD AND SON, most appearing in small theatre club presentations.  By the time of her death in 1970, her plays had fallen into obscurity.  In 1980 RUTHERFORD AND SON was revived, and it saw a later production at the National Theatre in 1994 with Bob Peck as the tyrannical John Rutherford; in 1998 the play was judged one of the 100 Plays Of The Twentieth Century in a National Theatre poll.

Any thoughts that this might be tokenism are forgotten when you see RUTHERFORD AND SON: it's a gripping play that has hardly aged at all and indeed must have been a seismic shock in 1912 with it's powerful feminist arguments for the 'angel in the house' who could not think for herself.

John Rutherford owns a glass-making factory in Gateshead and rules both factory and home with a will of iron, secretly hated by both employees and family.  His oldest son John Jnr had been sent to Harrow to be educated, but earned his father's displeasure by staying in London and marrying Mary, a working-class girl.  With his health failing, John has returned home with Mary and their baby son Tony, both of them ignored by Rutherford.

His daughter Janet has retreated into a sullen, bitter existence after a lifetime of emotional coldness from her father and the youngest, mild-mannered Richard has earned his father's disdain for becoming a local curate.  With his children failing him, Rutherford has favoured his young assistant Martin, who grew up with his sons.  He approves of Martin's move to a nearby lonely cottage but we later discover he only moved there so he and Janet can continue a clandestine relationship.

Trouble finally erupts when John reveals that, while in London, he discovered a formula for making glass cheaper - Rutherford expects him to give it to him as he is his father but John demands he is paid a good price.  John shocks his father telling him he has shared his formula with Martin who thinks it's a great idea.  Richard brings a woman to the house whose son has been sacked by Rutherford for stealing; when he refuses to take him back, she retaliates by telling him what the workers really think of him, she tells Richard he is thought of as an idiot and tells Rutherford his daughter Janet is the main subject for gossip for 'carrying on' with Martin.  Unseen by anyone, a humiliated Richard leaves the house forever.

Rutherford confronts Janet but she denounces him for cutting off any possible joy that might have been hers.  Rutherford demands she leave his house the next day but Janet is triumphant in knowing that she will be united with Martin.  But the next morning a dazed Martin tells her that Rutherford persuaded him to reveal the secret formula - and then promptly sacked him for colluding with his son and for making his family a laughing stock by 'ruining' her.  Janet realizes that her dreams are in tatters now he has capitulated to her father, and leaves the house to face life alone. 

John rages when Martin tells him what he did and is determined to succeed to spite his father.  He breaks into Rutherford's cash box and steals the money, despite Mary's pleading that if he is going to succeed it should be not using his father's methods but he refuses.  When John says he will go abroad to achieve success Mary realizes that she and her son will never feature in these plans and suggests he let her know when he is settled, an idea to which he all too quickly agrees. Rutherford returns to his house, triumphant but alone - but is he?  An unexpected offer comes from the most unexpected place...  who will blink first to secure the continuation of RUTHERFORD AND SON?

Sowerby's play remains remarkably relevant with it's take on patriarchy at home and in the workplace and women's rights but above all is a rattling good yarn and a well-written play which has languished in the shadows for too long.  Polly Findlay keeps the pressure-cooker atmosphere on all the way through it, even in the quieter moments you just know a ticking bomb is waiting to go off.  Her production starts with sheets of rain pouring from the heavens and ends the same way, compounding the claustrophobic feel of the play.

She is blessed with an ensemble who all give committed, unsentimental performances: Roger Allam is on sensational form as Rutherford, glowering and immovable in his disdain for the world, and in particular, his family. Interestingly, he does not dominate the other actors; it is genuinely an ensemble performance leaving his own stamp on his role.  He is ably matched by Justine Mitchell as Janet, who found colours within the role so while she initially drains one's sympathy in the character, once her plight is revealed she shows the tragedy of a life allowed to atrophy.  Her scene with Allam where father and daughter declare their hatred for each other was spellbinding.

The other male roles are all played with just the right central note of weakness: Joe Armstrong as Martin really gives the role an initial sturdiness that completely deserts him when he loses his job, he is genuinely adrift in his shocked sadness, unable to acknowledge Janet's desperate need for help.  Sam Troughton exudes a clammy, fidgety quality as the oldest son who feels he can challenge his father with his secret formula, only to be outdone again and in defeat, shows he is as devious as Rutherford.  In the smallest role, Harry Hepple is touching as the Curate who finds himself a disappointment to family and community.

Anjana Vasan, so good in SUMMER AND SMOKE at the Almeida, here shines in the difficult role of Mary, a young girl thrown into an alien environment who finally succeeds by simply sitting and watching the power games around her, although it is intimated that in doing so, she loses something too.  As Rutherford's sister Ann who runs the household despite his many whinges, Barbara Marten is dessicated and as brittle as chalk after years of simply existing.

Lizzie Clachan's set aids the feeling of heavy claustrophobia with seemingly no natural light allowed into the fussy, genteelly cluttered living room and the lamp-lit lighting of Charles Balfour also keeps the Rutherford family trapped in glowing gloom.  I will have to ask Owen if Simon Money's vocal coaching was up to speed to a naturally north-east ear!  If I had to find fault I would suggest that the 6-women choir that opens each act doesn't quite provide the haunting aural experience that was intended.

 

RUTHERFORD AND SON is playing until 3rd August and I recommend it very much; hopefully this revival will show that Githa Sowerby's play is not just a curiosity but one of the best plays of the early 20th Century.

AIN'T MISBEHAVIN' at the Southwark Playhouse - Spreading Rhythm Around...

In 1978, an off-Broadway show proved such a hit that it was developed into a bigger production and shimmied and trucked it's way over to the Longacre for a Broadway run that ran nearly four years, spread over three theatres.

A plot-free compilation show based on the songbook of jazz legend Fats Waller, the show won three Tony Awards including Best Musical and opened here in 1979 at Her Majesty's - how odd to think of that theatre having ever staged anything but PHANTOM - and now it's being revived at the Southwark Playhouse in a production that first opened at the Mercury Theatre, Colchester earlier this year.

AIN'T MISBEHAVIN' was the precursor of shows like ONE MO' TIME, BLUES IN THE NIGHT and FIVE GUYS NAMED MOE where a small cast with band explore the genre of blues and jazz, letting the narrative within the songs build up the show's characters and within the specific context of the show, explore the lives of black Americans in the first half of the 20th Century.

Murray Horwitz and Richard Maltby Jr.'s show is here revived with a surprising new production team - young Olivier Award-winning actor Tyrone Huntley has made his directing debut and his choreographer is the STRICTLY COME DANCING professional dancer Oti Mabuse, and together they have delivered a firecracker of a production that glows as brightly as it's setting!

Designer Takis has transported us back to the golden period of jazz with a set which shines and glitters - it's polished golden floor reflecting the shimmering and kaleidoscopic stairs of our imaginary cabaret.  The five-man onstage band, led by Music Director and pianist Alex Cockle flooded the auditorium with the wonderful score - 30 songs from the Fats Waller songbook which just keep on coming!

Huntley has directed a tight show that doesn't stop for breath and Mabuse has choreographed the show so it seems to undulate through it's 90 minute running time - even the slow numbers seem to have a sway to them which keep the momentum going.  Congratulations to them both, it will be interesting to see if they work on another production.

A relatively unknown cast rip through Waller's songbook with sass and attitude, it must be said the women get the bigger shake of the action but they do have the bigger, more individual personalities and belt their songs out to the rafters!

The women included Carly Mercedes Dyer as a squeaky and dizzy ingenue, Renée Lamb as the fiery fuller-figure gal but, for me, Landi Oshinowo was the best with her seen-it-all air and a sensational voice that delivered a wonderful torch version of MEAN TO ME and led the company into more serious territory with BLACK AND BLUE.  Adrian Hansel and Wayne Robinson mooched around the women and had their own moments to shine with their snap brimmed trilbies and sliding moves.

Sometimes the tempo took it's toll on some of the diction - Dyer's more uptempo numbers suffered noticeably - but when you have all those numbers to fit in I guess something has to be sacrificed.  And what songs: apart from the ones already mentioned there was I'M GONNA SIT RIGHT DOWN AND WRITE MYSELF A LETTER, TWO SLEEPY PEOPLE, HONEYSUCKLE ROSE, SQUEEZE ME, THE JOINT IS JUMPIN', KEEPIN' OUT OF MISCHIEF NOW,  FIND OUT WHAT THEY LIKE, I CAN'T GIVE YOU ANYTHING BUT LOVE, IT'S A SIN TO TELL A LIE and SPREADIN' RHYTHM AROUND to name a few!

AIN'T MISBEHAVIN' closed last night but it would be wonderful if a space could be found in the West End for this cracking little show and it's dynamic cast and production team - as they sang in the show I'VE GOT MY FINGERS CROSSED!

SWEET CHARITY at the Donmar - The Thin and Thick Of It...

They say you should never judge a book by it's cover - but sometimes it saves an awful lot of time.  My issues with Josie Rourke's production of SWEET CHARITY began right at the top of the show and fluctuated throughout the evening.  I suppose any show is open to be re-imagined but when the production constantly gets in the way of the material then you know the director probably has no understanding of the original's worth.

Musicals don't have a continuous life for over 50 years because of the concepts visited on it, and while I am sure SWEET CHARITY will survive Rourke's attempts to make it 'relevant', she might walk with a limp for a while.

As I said the sinking feeling started before a note was sung.  For some reason Rourke and designer Robert Jones have decided that the defining stage image for their SWEET CHARITY is the silver and metallic world of Andy Warhol's Factory.  Showing crashing obviousness they must have surmised that as SWEET CHARITY premiered in 1966 they should look for images of New York in the mid-1960s and the first thing they found was The Factory.

The production starts with the cast all in black on black outfits, sitting around in icy hauteur while a film of the Empire State Building is projected on the back wall and The Velvet Underground's whacked-out VENUS IN FURS blares out.  I would dearly love to know what this has to do with SWEET CHARITY and it's sleazy world of neon-lit dance halls, blaring car horns along 42nd Street, and shadowy men smelling of cheap after-shave?  This world is wonderfully conjured up in Cy Coleman's exciting Overture - which, of course, Rourke dropped.

As I said any production where the Concept takes precedence over the material's internal logic is bound to fail - with Rourke it reaches the height of stupidity when Helene and Nicky, Charity's fellow-dancehall hostesses, sing BABY DREAM YOUR DREAM after Charity quits the business to seek happiness with boyfriend Oscar.  They sing cynically about Charity's future, but ultimately it dawns on them that her hopes will probably never happen to them and the song ends on a sad, wistful note.  So what does Rourke have them doing while they sing it?  Walk on with large Brillo boxes - a la Warhol - and unpack smaller Brillo boxes from inside, Russian doll style... which end up all over the stage... and which are swept away in the scene change.  So a nothing idea meaning nothing which results in... nothing.

The always wobbly end to the show again plays right into Rourke's cack-handed Concept. The original production has Charity alone again, her happy dreams collapsed, but she admits that at least he didn't steal her purse like the guy before did so picks herself up and heads off as titles appear saying "And she lived - hopefully - ever after".  Bob Fosse shot two endings to the film version - one truthful, one happy - but went with the truthful version.  But Rourke isn't dealing with characters, she is dealing in Concepts and worse, an Agenda.  So she ends with Charity and the Fandango Dance-Hall girls lined up reprising THERE'S GOTTA BE SOMETHING BETTER THAN THIS like so many Times Square Miserables.  Needless to say, Rourke's attempt to claim Charity for the #MeToo movement just comes across as crashingly Obvious.  Hamlet famously says "The play's the thing.." but sadly thanks to the oppressive Director Theatre climate of today, the Agenda's the thing.. no matter whether it serves the material.

One of the disappointments of the show was Wayne McGregor's choreography.  In a show so famous for it's dance numbers - especially Fosse's moves - McGregor's choreography is either remarkably basic or remarkably absurd: HEY BIG SPENDER is choreographed with about six step-ladders for the Dance-Hall divas to clamber up or lounge on then descend to move somewhere else on a revolve.  Because they are not busy enough singing one of the show's great standards.  The RICH MAN'S FRUG number was more successful with a stage full of quaking Andy Warhols look-a-likes.

So where do we find the positives?  Anne-Marie Duff can certainly act the role - and her honeyed rasp of a voice did finally grow on me - but something seemed off about the performance, as if she didn't really commit to the wide-eyed optimism of Charity.  Whether the fact that she is the oldest actress to play Charity in London or New York has anything to do with that is open to conjecture.  She is always likeable however.

It's an odd CHARITY where the most memorable performance is from the actor playing Oscar but Arthur Darvill was excellent in the role.  He gave us a totally believable character who was ready to commit to Charity but ultimately unable to leave her past behind.  The Donmar has hit on the odd idea of having a regular guest performer play Daddy Brubeck for short periods - we got Kobna Holdbrook-Smith, fresh from his Olivier Award-winning Ike Turner in TINA.  His sparkly silver shirt made the biggest impression sadly.

Lizzy Connolly and Debbie Kurup were ok as Nickie and Helene but - along with Martin Marquez as Italian matinee idol Vittorio Vidal and Stephen Kennedy as Herman the grouchy manager of the Fandango club - everyone seemed to be acting on a fairly low-light.  It's almost like they are all using 40w bulbs instead of iridescent neon.

SWEET CHARITY currently sits on my list of favourite musicals and there was still enjoyment to be had thanks to the combined excellence of Cy Coleman's music, Neil Simon's book and Dorothy Fields' lyrics but they had to fight hard to get through the vacuous trappings of Josie Rourke's Concept.  Oh I didn't mention the lifesize plastic-ball pit that doubles as Central Park lake...

Never mind Charity, you will survive till the next time we meet...