Showing posts with label Caroline Keiff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Caroline Keiff. Show all posts

Wednesday, 7 August 2013

The Sound Of Music

Open Air Theatre, London

****

Music by Richard Rodgers
Lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II
Book by Howard Lindsay and Russel Crouse
Directed by Rachel Kavanaugh


Charlotte Wakefield is Maria Rainer

How do you solve a problem like The Sound Of Music, this season’s highlight from the Open Air Theatre? It may be one of the most famous musicals written, containing countless memorable songs that have been hard-wired into our collective psyche, yet its underlying structure remains shallow and ridiculous. A story that sugar-coats enormous issues and trivialises them, glossing over stifled and stilted parenting and an abused and damaged childhood, whilst the ever menacing loom of the Anschluss suggests that the Third Reich is more of a fairy tale baddy that can be easily hoodwinked, rather than a regime that was to prove to be the century's most infernal monstrosity. The story is clichéd, flawed and quite how it achieved epic status would confound today’s book-writers. Nonetheless, The Sound Of Music is a global behemoth and one whose staging always presents the challenge of how to make such a well loved and familiar classic appear fresh and new.

Without question Rachel Kavanaugh, together with her cast and creatives rise to that challenge. Charlotte Wakefield is a Maria who in act one beautifully meets the demands of the solos and duets of some of the world’s most well-known songs. Wakefield convinces us as the delightfully dotty nun, struggling with her emerging emotions of love and desire for Captain Von Trapp. Shame though on Rodgers and Hammerstein for simply dismissing the damage of her “wicked childhood and miserable youth” with such casual lyrical disdain in Something Good.

Michael Xavier a stalwart of the musical stage, is miscast as the dignified and stoic albeit struggling Von Trapp. We learn that his Captain had been awarded military honours in “the war” which would have seen him so decorated at least twenty years before this story takes place and suggesting that he is a man at least in his mid-40’s. Notwithstanding that Xavier is a consummate actor, he lacks the gravitas and presence to effectively portray the uber-potent but nonetheless almost middle-aged, naval commander.

Fans of Stuart Matthew Price, prepare yourselves for a disappointment. A vocal legend of his generation, he is cast with not one note to sing. Price’s butler Franz displays a definite leaning in style towards The Rocky Horror Show’s Riff-Raff and whilst he is magnificently clipped and elegant in his ultimately traitorous role, this actor's immense musical theatre talents are woefully squandered.

Michael Matus as flamboyant promoter Max Detweiler is his usual irrepressibly excellent self. Matus exudes brash bonhomie just by being on stage, with a glorious voice that matches his striking character. Credit too to Caroline Keiff whose Elsa Schraeder is an elegant and well crafted depiction of understated nastiness. 


Michael Matus and Caroline Keiff

The show’s set design is clever, simply switching between the Von Trapp mansion and the convent and the skills of Tim Mitchell and Nick Lidster in light and sound respectively, ensure that the entire show can be clearly seen and heard throughout the Regents Park amphitheatre.

Kavanaugh aquits herself well with such a well known work. If you are unfamiliar with the tale, then consider seeing the show, if only to observe some of the very best aspects of London’s world-class theatre industry. If though, like most people, you love the work then definitely take that stroll to the park. You will be uplifted and exhilarated by the quality of the production.

Runs until 7 September

Thursday, 15 November 2012

Sweet Smell of Success - Review

***


Music by Marvin Hamlisch
Lyrics by Craig Carnelia
Book by John Guare
Directed by Mehmet Ergen



Stuart Matthew Price

If the aromas of this country’s recent nasty episodes of cheque-book phone-tapping journalism could be distilled they might be ironically labelled the Sweet Smell of Success. This show from Marvin Hamlisch, he of blessed memory, is a thoroughly unpleasant tale of a morally bankrupt press, with a plot that includes almost flippant nods to McCarthyism, suggested incestuous motives, suicide and murder. There is a love interest , but it merely serves as second fiddle to the devious malfeasance that drives this work.

David Bamber is JJ Hunsecker, an influential New York columnist, with an unhealthily protective attitude towards his much younger sister Susan, played by Caroline Keiff. Whilst the immorality of the press has long been a rich seam for writers, Bamber’s character however loathsome is not a patch on the grotesque media baron that was Lambert Le Roux in David Hare's Pravda. Bamber’s acting is impressive but his singing disappoints and a second act vaudeville number, whose sole purpose seems to be that of providing Hunsecker with a big song and  dance routine, is an opportunity squandered. As Sidney Falcone, a protege of manipulative journalism whose character is ruthlessly manipulated by Hunsecker,  Adrian der Gregorian is frequently reduced to acting by simply shoulder shrugging.

To the show's credit, other performances shine. Stuart Matthew Price is masterful as Dallas, the young pianist in love with Susan. It is a delight to see this actor in a large “almost lead” role that for once offers his character numerous opportunities to sing solo, as his voice is simply divine. Similarly excellent is Celia Graham in the far too minor role of cigarette girl Rita. A highlight of the evening is the belting of her character’s one and solo number, Rita’s Tune. Wonderfully mopping up a handful of the minor scene-setting roles is Russell Morton, a young man of striking presence and potential. Hamlisch’s melodies are bold and jazzy and Bob Broad’s direction of his pitch perfect 7-piece band is a beautiful evocation of time and place.

Nathan M Wright’s choreography of the ensemble numbers lacked polish on press night. It was sometimes clumsy, and whilst expensive sets may not be expected in this fine off-West End establishment, foot-perfect dance routines are and Wright should urgently drill his cast further. Mehmet Ergen’s direction also denies his actors their full potential. The show’s staging is at times poorly thought out: a crucial beating takes place on a badly lit gantry, not easily visible to a proportion of the audience and a repeated gag of the chorus appearing from an upstage pit, wears thin with repetition.

In Jason Robert Brown’s Parade one song from a journalist, Real Big News, says more about a corrupt press than this show manages in two acts. If the cast and creative team can refine its weaker points, then this production stands a chance of generating a modest whiff of success.

Runs to December 22