Back To The Future The Musical - Review

Adelphi Theatre, London

*****

Music and lyrics by Alan Silvestri and Glen Ballard

Book by Bob Gale

Directed by John Rando

Olly Dobson

In a dramatic gesture matched only in magnitude by the invention of the flux capacitor itself, so have the cast and creative team behind Back To The Future The Musical delivered one of the best new musicals to hit the West End in recent years.

Bravely opening as the pandemic (hopefully) fades, the Adelphi was packed to a cheering audience savouring a show that wasn’t just based upon a classic 1985 movie but which takes that film’s narrative to a fourth dimension amidst a veritable nuclear-powered fusion of effects wizardry, video projection, and good old-fashioned human talent.

It’s not just a tough gig to set a science-fiction yarn to music, Back To The Future also demands of its leads that they can inhabit characters including the leads that were so memorably brought to life on screen by Christopher Lloyd and Michael J. Fox . This show however pulls it off with an inspired casting that sees accomplished Broadway actor Roger Bart create the stage version of Doc Brown. Opposite Bart, Olly Dobson is equally convincing as teenage time-traveller Marty McFly.

Nearly 40 years old, the story is a classic. Marty gets sent back in time 30 years by the madcap inventor Brown, where he stumbles across his pre-marital parents. And as his youthfully gorgeous mother Lorraine (Rosanna Hyland) falls for the new kid in town, unaware of course that he is her son, it is down to Marty and the (younger, naturally) Doc to engineer the plot that sees Lorraine fall for her unlikely suitor George McFly, so that in time the pair can marry and beget Marty… 

Roger Bart

Throughout, the acting is flawless, not least with Hugh Coles’ George McFly, a veritable masterpiece of physical comedy. Coles’ perfect interpretation of the hapless George delivers not only perfectly timed hilarity but also immaculately pitched nuance that must surely stand him in good stead when the Olivier for Best Supporting Actor is being considered. There is pathos too in the bond between Marty and the Doc - again, never milked, just perfectly pitched.

And, for the most part, the show’s new songs are also rather clever. In a time when new musical theatre writing can often disappoint, the numbers created here combine humour and passion together with perfectly pitched insight into the human condition. Hello - Is Anybody Home? as Marty gazes despairingly at his (1985) family, is matched in wit by his (youthful) dad’s My Myopia. Whichever of Silvestri or Ballard thought to rhyme myopia with utopia is another deeply talented soul.

Actors and lyrics aside, Back To The Future has always been about the car! So much more than just a ripping yarn, what is needed here has been the translation of a 20th century blockbuster movie crammed full of (non-CGI) special effects and squeezing it into the confines of a proscenium arch, beyond which is a theatre brimming with the expectations of a tech-savvy 21st century audience.

Director John Rando pulls off this task magnificently – aided by Tim Hatley’s design work, Chris Fisher’s illusions, Finn Ross outstanding video projections (Doc Brown’s climbing of the clock tower towards the show’s finale is a hilarious coup-de-theatre in itself!), Gareth Owen’s sound design and Tim Lutkin’s lighting. The staging is imaginative, stunning and clearly expensive – everything that a big West End show should be – and, above all, imaginative. There will be no spoilers in this review – just go and savour what these guys manage to do with a classy company of actors and a DeLorean. (And if this 2021 iteration of the story sees those pesky Libyan terrorists from 1985 get canned in the name of politically correct progress, well hey that's showbiz!)

Jim Henson’s 14 piece band make fine work of the newly scored stuff – theres a great leitmotif running through the show that is a nod to the movie – with the more recent songs standing up well to the timeless gems of Johnny B. Goode and Huey Lewis’ The Power Of Love. The dancework is wonderfully tight too, with choreographer Chris Bailey lobbing in some wonderful moments of pastiche that only add to the evening's splendour.  

It says much for London as a global centre of theatre that the producers have chosen to workshop and launch this All-American show over here and with a predominantly British company of cast and creatives. As soon as circumstances make it possible and profitable, the show deserves a swift transfer across the Atlantic. 

Throughout, Back To The Future The Musical exceeds expectations, consistently delivering excellence in acting, song, dance, and oh, those effects.  Family entertainment in musical theatre does not get better than this. Just go!

Booking until 1st July 2022

Photo credit: Sean Ebsworth Barnes

The Tempest - Review

Barbican Theatre, London

****

Written by William Shakespeare

Directed by  Gregory Doran

Simon Russell Beale and Jenny Rainsford

In just seven days it has been possible to catch the RSC doing what they do best - offering an insight into Shakespeare’s profound understanding of the breadth of the human condition. At Stratford last week Titus Andronicus evidenced man’s capacity to wreak bloody revenge. This week with The Tempest, we observe the power of forgiveness.

In a literally magical production, the London transfer of Stratford upon Avon's 2016 hit sees Simon Russell Beale as Prospero shipwrecked on an enchanted island in the Med, with only his daughter Miranda to accompany him and a library of books and spells. 

Also resident on the island are Caliban, a hulkingly ugly witch’s son and Ariel, a spirit, both of whom are under Prospero’s spell - and as the (literally fantastic) story unfolds we learn of Dukedoms usurped, resentments nurtured, smouldering love and passionate jealousies.

What makes Greg Doran’s production soar is a virtually seamless marriage of some of the finest acting to be found, alongside breathtaking 21st century technology. Stephen Brimson Lewis’ stage design is magnificent - the entire play taking place within the massive gaping ribs of a shipwreck’s hull. Onto these perished timbers, The Imaginarium Studios and Finn Ross project digital creations which through a combination of both ingenious imagery and the screens onto which their work is projected, breathe a supernatural life into the island.

Russell Beale’s Prospero is wise and measured, with the actor’s hallmark twang of wry exasperation giving a lilting cadence to some of Shakespeare's most beautiful verse. Jenny Rainsford as Miranda is a young woman brimming with desire. Her joy on first encountering the subsequently shipwrecked Ferdinand, the King’s son played by Daniel Easton is almost palpable and the love that evolves between the couple, albeit within the confines of a tale based on magical whimsy, is entirely plausible.

As the grotesquely piscatorial Caliban, replete with flapping fish, Joe Dixon’s spinally exo-skeletal costume could almost have been designed by H.R.Giger. Dixon captures Caliban’s slow-witted complexities perfectly, while as Ariel, the bodysuited, lithe Mark Quartley turns in a performance that is as acrobatic as it is stunningly empathetic. Excelling throughout, in a performance that blends bewilderingly believably into the digital domain Quartley’s understated elation as Ariel receives his liberty in the final act, is a celebration of sensitivity.

While all of the performances are spot on, there’s a niggle in the casting of Jonathan Broadbent as Antonio. He may well be Prospero’s brother, but the significant age gap between the performers makes that particular conceit hard to grasp. There must however be a mention for the outstanding soprano work from Elly Condron, Jennifer Witton and Samantha Hay as Iris, Juno and Ceres respectively, who only add a further degree of enchantment to the consecration of Miranda and Ferdinand’s union.

Paul Englishby’s music and Lucy Cullingford’s movement alongside the production’s stunning sound and lighting only add to what is yet another work of excellence from the RSC.

Runs until 18th August 2017

Photo credit: Topher McGrillis

American Psycho

Almeida Theatre, London

*****

Book by Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa

Music and lyrics by Duncan Sheik

Based on the novel by Brett Easton Ellis

Directed by Rupert Goold

Matt Smith

Trading sonic screwdriver for shotgun, Matt Smith sheds his Dr Who persona to emerge as Patrick Bateman the damaged anti-hero of American Psycho. A bestselling and sometimes darkly comic comment upon the vacuity of the 1980's, Brett Easton Ellis’ novel was famously realised as a 2000 movie starring Christian Bale. Since then a musical version has been talked of, but it has taken until now for Rupert Goold to helm the first ever translation of an Ellis novel from page to stage.

A young and talented investment banker, Bateman is devoted to style and success, finding failure nauseating. His psyche however is complex and being surrounded by chatteringly beautiful Vogue-devoted peers, (the women in particular have a clever early ensemble number You Are What You Wear) whose pursuit of fashion or the next major deal leaves him cold, only deepens his frustrations as his actions become increasingly barbaric.

Smith represents perhaps the most inspired casting of recent years. Where the eponymous Doctor is at best semi-detached from society, Bateman’s mind is truly a world apart from his surroundings and when it comes to detachment, nobody does it better than Smith. His antic disposition early on sets him apart from his banker buddies and as his reason ebbs away, Smith perfectly captures Bateman's mental decline, never once losing focus nor resorting to cliche. His signature number Clean is a clinically chilling performance from an actor not usually associated with melody.

The company work is classy and consistent. Susannah Fielding is Evelyn, Bateman's fiancée, more focused on the carat count of her engagement ring than the slowly crumbling cognisance of her betrothed. Goold has given her a persona more often associated with a Roy Lichtenstein pop art painting. Fielding's characterisation is one of the most fleshed out depictions of a shallow two dimensional woman to be found. Cassandra Compton’s Jean, whose love for Bateman touches the very heart of the beast, has us fearing for her safety whilst gasping at her performance as during her assured solo of A Girl Before, Bateman seductively undresses her, all the time his nail gun close at hand. Amongst the men Hugh Skinner’s closeted gay Luis who mistakes a murderous grip from the homophobic Bateman as a sign of affection, delivers a recurring vulnerability that is never offered cheaply. Seasoned trouper Gillian Kirkpatrick, playing Bateman’s mother, suggests just a whiff of Hitchcock’s Mrs Bates as we seek to comprehend the complex motivation of her son.

Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa’s book takes a scalpel to Ellis' original, fashioning a carefully crafted arc that is original yet also true to source. Aguirre-Sacasa's background is in comic book creativity (his is the Vegas-bound Spider-Man: Turn off the Dark) and his eye for the graphic makes for a seamless interpretation. With music and lyrics by Spring Awakening's Duncan Sheik, the 1980’s pedigree of the show is assured. Sheik's songs are consistently concise and on point. No trite lyrics here, Bateman himself would be proud.

Es Devlin uses the compact Almeida space effectively, enhancing the minimalist set with two inspired revolves on stage left and right that stylishly shift the action from Manhattan’s high society to a Hamptons beachfront with Finn Ross’ video projections completing the illusions. The story’s violence, mostly suggested and only once depicted with extreme gore, is tastefully portrayed with Lynne Page’s choreography brilliantly depicting the (blood-free) shotgun blastings of a deranged nightclub massacre.

Whilst the story may not be timeless, some thirty years on and amidst London’s multi-million pound properties, chic eateries and an ever widening gulf between rich and poor, much of the ethos that Ellis despised lives on today. But much as Bateman takes an axe to his victims, so too will this show split critics and opinions. Not for children, nor the easily offended, American Psycho is shocking and uncomfortable theatre. Brutally inspired, brilliantly realised and stunningly performed.

Ticket details:

In one of those episodes of life imitating art, with the run already sold out and until this show transfers to the West End (which it surely must), you are more likely to score a table at New York’s fictional Dorsia restaurant than at the Almeida.

Day tickets are available until the show closes February 1, details below. Queue early and wrap up warm.

http://www.almeida.co.uk/your-visit/booking-information/american-psycho-tickets/