Why Am I So Single? - Review

Garrick Theatre, London

***

Written by Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss

Directed by Lucy Moss

Co-directed and choreographed by Ellen Kane

Leesa Tulley and company

It’s quite something for writers to have a brace of shows running simultaneously in the West End, but with Six at the Vaudeville and now Why Am I So Single? round the corner at the Garrick, Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss have achieved that double.

Six was famously created around the wives of Henry VIII, lending itself to a tightly written book based on a rich chapter of world-famous history. It enjoyed a stratospheric and deserved rise from humble beginnings on the fringe to the globally touring phenomenon of modern musical theatre that it is today. Why Am I So Single? however, drawn from the lives of Marlow and Moss themselves, makes for a narrative that’s lightweight and superficial in comparison. While the pair's close platonic friendship and respective life stories may be touching, they do not support a 2 1/2 hour show that itself could do with a trim of at least 30 minutes.

Where Stephen Sondheim once brilliantly explored the angsts of being single in Company, Marlow and Moss offer little more than an immaculately produced evening of self-indulgent introspection and navel-gazing. Written by anyone other than these now acclaimed wunderkinder the production may well have struggled to gain traction and backing - that is if it were even conceived at all - let alone this big fancy West End opening that frames its commercial rollout.  

Amidst countless references to classic musicals and frequently smug breakouts across the fourth wall, Nancy and Oliver (played by Leesa Tulley and Jo Foster) are Marlow and Moss’s leading characters, effectively their onstage "fictional" representations. The show is technically whip-smart and while its lyrics may be repetitive and its melodies forgettable, both Tulley and Foster sparkle with performing excellence and gorgeous voices. Noah Thomas as their mutual friend Artie is also at the top of his game.

Ellen Kane’s choreography and co-direction is another of the evening’s stunning treats with her company drilled to a glorious visual perfection.  Atop the stage, Chris Ma’s eight-piece band are equally slick.

The storyline may be thinly crafted but who knows? With its Marlow and Moss imprimatur, Why Am I So Single? may yet appeal to Gen Z. It’s certainly been rolled in enough glitter!

Booking until 13th February 2025

Photo credit: Matt Crockett

The Last Five Years - Review

Garrick Theatre, London

***

Music, lyrics and book by Jason Robert Brown

Directed by Jonathan O'Boyle

Molly Lynch

For The Last Five Years, the last eighteen months have seen this show albeit skewered by the pandemic, transfer from a glorious run on London’s fringe at the Southwark Playhouse to the commercial bear-pit of the West End, taking up a month’s residence at the Garrick.

The artistic genius of its performers remains. Slightly matured from their south London opening, Molly Lynch and Oli Higginson remain excellent as time-crossed lovers Cathy and Jamie, famously charting their five year relationship in opposing time dimensions. As Jamie moves forward from impetuous passion to duplicitous deceit, so does Cathy follow a reverse arc, opening with the grief of a shattered marriage and closing with her deliriously sincere and hopeful Goodbye Until Tomorrow. 

Molly and Oli are indeed magnificent - but not for no reason has this curiosity of a show struggled to even open on Broadway. The intense magic of Jonathan O’Boyle’s work at Southwark dissipates under the scrutiny of a multi-tiered West End house, its cast now removed to behind their proscenium arch. What this production defines is that The Last 5 Years is essentially a chamber work and that Brown’s ingenious dissection of a love’s birth and subsequent demise is best savoured up-close. While some of his show’s numbers are barnstorming roofraisers (Lynch delivers a knockout I Can Do Better Than That) overall, the piece struggles to captivate.

This Garrick production is one for the fans, undoubtedly a gathering of genius in both its cast and creative crew. But much like Jamie and Cathy’s love, something has died here.

Click here to read my 5* review of this production at Southwark Playhouse 

Runs until 17th October

Phot credit: Helen Maybanks

Cirque Berserk - Review

Garrick Theatre, London

****

Returning to London's West End, Cirque Berserk deliver an evening of timeless human genius.

Bursting onto the stage like a pride of lions huddled together in perfect unison, were 7 agile men that hooked the audience into the very first extraordinary act of the night. The Timbuktu Tumblers, so aptly named, dazzled the crowd with their acrobatic prowess. The way they held each other up creating several different and quite literally, man-made structures, with such ease is a sight to behold. The danger was ramped up later in their routine when they danced under fire limbo sticks, with nothing short of a whispers breath between the floor and the flaming bar! A marvellous and rare performance to behold.

Another mesmerising act of the night comes from a more traditional circus acrobatic troupe, heralding from Mongolia these acrobats were flying through the air as a fish swims through the ocean. Traditional trapeze artistry accompanied by death defying gymnastic stunts kept the audience clapping through there whole act. One of their stunts being so dangerous a safety mat is required to prevent serious injury or death. Demonstrating both beauty and skill, their ribbon bound performance mesmerised adults and children alike. The tranquil, yet energetic music matched the way they moved so perfectly entwined with the silk, it was impossible to look away. A pin drop could have been heard amongst the audience, for all eyes were entranced by the talented act. 

Special mention must be given to 3ft 6inch tall comic, acrobat and showman Paulo Dos Santos who inadvertently came on stage between acts. His is a silly yet charmingly brilliant turn, one which engaged the children and kept them on their toes, with nuances that only the adults would understand to keep them giggling. It truly was a fulfilling sight to behold when a man who was from first initial reception seen as merely there to fill some laughs on stage, was also able to also perform some of the most challenging circus acts of the night. A touching tribute to the show.

The finale, a diesel fuelled spine tingling danger act was truly the definition of ‘Berserkus’. The Lucius team a group of professional dirt bike riders and the Globe of Death. Up to three riders flying inside the globe riding upside down while practically touching elbows as they zoom past each other at upwards of 60mph. A wild finish to an exhilarating show that, for family entertainment in the West End, is up there with the best.

Runs until 11th September. Tickets available here

Reviewed by Christian Yeomans

Photo credit: Piet-Hein Out

Bitter Wheat - Review

Garrick Theatre, London


****

Written and directed by David Mamet

John Malkovich

Bitter Wheat introduces us to Barney Fein, an obesely mysogynist movie mogul who, drunk on money and power, views women as little more than his playthings. It is no coincidence that post autumn 2017 and in the #MeToo era, the assonance of the name and the description of the man sound troublingly familiar. 

Fein is an ugly man - inside and out, with an ugliness that is matched only by Mamet’s writing. For this is a play of two halves - a first act that builds towards an explosive exploitation of sexual violation, and a second half that rapidly disintegrates into implausibility. And yet - for all of Mamet’s madness, the chaos of his writing still holds a withering mirror to Hollywood’s vile, vacuous and timelessly rapacious culture. While recent scandals may have rightly pushed Tinseltown’s casting couch into the spotlight - that toxic masculinity and mindset has riven the movie industry for as long as cameras have been turning. 

John Malkovich is a fine Fein. Padded up he is as massive the role that sees him onstage throughout the two hour piece. There is satire here but without the slapstick - Malkovich marvels in a role that, like Pravda's Lambert Le Roux in Pravda or The Producers' Max Bialystock, takes recognisable caricatures, magnifying them into a driving force. Mamet takes no prisoners in his writing, with Fein’s Jewish ancestry proving an uncomfortable butt for some of the venom he receives. However, Mamet is to be applauded in recognising the close and long-established ties between his anti-hero and America’s Democrat Party - a recognition that will not sit easily amongst the liberal literati on either side of the Atlantic.

Malkovich is well served by his fellow ensemble who, to differing degrees, are there merely as foils to his monstrous nature. Doon Mackichan is his much put-upon assistant Sondra, a woman of questionable ethics and evident complicity and who, rat-like, flees Fein's sinking ship. Making her West End debut, Ioanna Kimbook plays the South Korean movie star Yung Kim Li who finds herself the subject of Fein's abusive lust. The writer has allowed little room for nuance in the part, but Kimbook turns in a neatly measured performance.

There may be a whiff of sensationalised cliché to this world premiere, but no matter. Mamet's subject is timely and relevant and Malkovich's performance is electrifying.

Booking until 21st September

Photo credit: Manuel Harlan

Rip It Up - Review

Garrick Theatre, London


***


Directed & choreographed by Gareth Walker

Harry Judd, Louis Smith, Jay McGuiness and Aston Merrygold

Rip It Up does exactly that to the conventional West End tried and tested juke box musical. In part a Reality TV show and in part a showcase, the evening encapsulates a musical time-machine that will have you tapping your feet and smiling from cheek to cheek despite your best attempts to resist.

In a show that will please Boomers and Millennials alike, the show covers the cherished pop hits of the 60’s. Harry Judd, Louis Smith, Jay McGuiness and Aston Merrygold whirl through the decade’s differeing music scenes ranging from the Swinging 60s all the way through to the Mods. Much in the spirit of A Hard Days Night, this fab four clearly enjoy their West End debut.

Merrygold delivers some show stopping vocals, well and truly stepped up when hitting the high notes of Frankie Valli as Smith pleases the crowd with some physical feats that are almost Olympian, such is his show biz finesse. 

Full of energy from start to finish the show does a great job of reliving some of the era’s most cherished music, with the power of female vocalist Jill Marie Cooper alongside the onstage band adding the show’s TV studio feel. There’s an unexpected treat in the second half where Harry Judd’s dance is a joy to behold – one can see that his time on Strictly has certainly paid off.

Not for those seeking a quite night of passive theatre, but if you are up for some mash potato plus a little bit of twist and a sprinkling of shout then this show will most definitely have you singing these classic records all day and all of the night. Rip up your plans and get yourself a ticket – it’s nostalgic, cheesy and delightfully good fun.

Booking until 2nd June

Reviewed by Josh Kemp

Don Quixote - Review

Garrick Theatre, London


****


Adapted by James Fenton from the novel by Miguel de Cervantes
Directed by Angus Jackson

David Threlfall

In James Fenton’s adaptation of Cervantes’ 17th Century classic, the fabled antics of Knight Errant Don Quixote are given a contemporary understanding that still preserves the original’s richness. 

David Threlfall is the aged Quixote, climbing onto the Garrick stage from the stalls in the first of the show’s many “Fourth Wall” breaches and is, quite simply, magnificent. Robed and biblically bearded, there is something of the Billy Connolly in Threlfall’s appearance which only underlines the tragi-comedy that driving this curious yet also intuitive take on ageing and fantasy. Threlfall captures the essence of Quixote - driven by proud self belief, and yet slowly being deprived of his mental faculties. His is a performance of the utmost sensitivity, perfectly nuanced in both physical presence and emotional magic.

Of course the relationship between Quixote and his manservant Sancho Panza is one of the oldest double-acts in literature, a pairing that might well have inspired the latter day genius of Blackadder and Baldrick.  Rufus Hound plays Panza and his casting is perfect. Amidst scripted and (when the fire alarm sounded on press night following mismanaged onstage pyro effects) ad-libbed audience interactions, Hound provides the perfectly tipped foil to Threlfall’s straight-guy, his common touch bouncing off the elderly would-be patrician. And whilst Panza’s coarseness contrasts with Quixote’s chivalry, Hound skilfully demonstrates that both men share a resolute moral code. Cynical, corpulent and always caring even if often underpaid, Hound’s Panza remains as lovingly loyal, as he is perceptive - with his devotion proving a bittersweet background to the play’s final act.

There is lovely work all round from Jackson’s company. Richard Dempsey’s Duke captures the mildly cruel foppishness of Spain’s aristocracy, while Natasha Magigi as Sancho Panza’s wife Teresa, surrounded by a bevy of wailing (marionette) infants puts in a neatly detailed, even if caricatured, glimpse of the manservant’s background.

Robert Innes Hopkins’ design is unpretentiously clever, with state of the art stagecraft mixed in with deliciously simple, centuries old puppetry. Windmills are cleverly tilted at and sheep are brilliantly battled, and when Quixote finally ascends to the heavens, the charm of his flight lies not in the obviously visible harness - but rather in the simplicity of its gorgeous imagery. The music is delicious too, with Grant Olding’s Latin and flamenco themed compositions (under Tarek Merchant’s baton) only adding to the tapas-like spread of treats that the evening offers.

If the moments of excessive boisterousness make for minor occasional distractions, they are trifling. The RSC’s Don Quixote has well deserved its transfer to the West End - it is poignant, funny, and perfectly played. Brilliant theatre!

Runs until 2nd February 2019

Photo credit: Manuel Harlan

Young Frankenstein - Review

Garrick Theatre, London


****

Music and lyrics by Mel Brooks
Book by Mel Brooks and Thomas Meehan
Directed and choreographed by Susan Stroman

Hadley Fraser and Shuler Hensley

Not since the pairing of Bialystock and Bloom has there been a theatrical partnership to match that of Mel Brooks and Susan Stroman. He’s an irreverent comic genius who for 70 years has taken no prisoners in his mocking of life’s stereotypes and injustices while she is one of the most perceptive and assured director/choreographers of her generation. And so it is that their latest collaboration Young Frankenstein, recently arrived from Broadway to open at London’s Garrick Theatre, is another triumph.

Like The Producers before it, Young Frankenstein hails from a Brooks movie of some 40 years earlier with the veteran writer/director reframing the comedy-horror flick around his own composition of words and music. And much like Dr Frankenstein’s eponymous creature, Brooks (together with Stroman) has re-animated his story into exceptional musical theatre. If Sunset Boulevard is a sincere tribute to the romance of post-war Hollywood, then Young Frankenstein is an as-loving parody of the same time and place, but played for laughs. 

Snowflakes be warned, there are no “safe spaces” in this show as Brooks makes fun not only of cinematic genres, but also, and mercilessly, of men, women and for good measure exhumed corpses too. The jokes may be as corny as they are smutty, but Brooks knows just how far to dig in mining this rich and timeless seam of humour, throwing political correctness to the wind.

The plot (very) loosely follows the classic story, with Hadley Fraser as the fine-voiced young Dr Frankenstein leaving his slightly matriarchal fiancée Elizabeth played by Dianne Pilkington and setting off from New York (aboard the HMS Queen Mary Shelley, geddit?) to travel to his infamous grandfather’s castle in Transylvania.

Once there and in the heart of Europe, (and oh how Hollywood has, for decades, loved to view our continent as full of nightmarish monsters) the young Doctor meets a string of characters that are straight out of the 1950s B-Movie playbook

Ross Noble is Igor, the hunched assistant, Lesley Joseph plays Frau Blucher an older woman with a sinister past, while Summer Strallen is Inga whose character is largely a recreation of The Producers’ Ulla.

Noble’s talent lies in stand-up comedy - though he applies himself brilliantly to the scripted confines of Igor’s ineptness. Joseph however is quite simply an old-school comedy master. She works the room and with her big number He Vas My Boyfriend offers up a gloriously pastiche of Marlene Dietrich.

Strallen’s Inga sends the comedy straight back to the 1970s - gifted in song, dance and performance, her turn defines the cliché that Brooks has created for her.

There’s eye-watering stuff from Patrick Clancy who doubles up both as the village’s police Inspector as well as a Hermit who befriends the monster. Clancy is also a talented pro who’s worked with Brooks before - his timing is spot on, with slapstick that is as hilarious as it is offensive.

Notwithstanding the occasional lapse in pace, Stroman’s staging is inspired. Act 2 may contain some wittily brilliant tap routines that spoof Top Hat delightfully, but the first half’s number Hang Him Til He’s Dead sees the pitchfork-waving mob of villagers choreographed into an embarrassingly joyous hangman’s dance. And as for the horses that haul Dr Frankenstein’s cart to the castle, never has the equine form been staged or suggested with such ingenuity and comedy.

Perhaps the biggest accolade of the night is due to Shuler Hensley who plays The Monster. Only rarely seen on this side of the Atlantic (he was last in London in the 90s for an Olivier-winning turn as the monstrous Jud in the National Theatre’s Oklahoma) Hensley created The Monster on Broadway before touring with the show and he breathes a life into one of the canon’s most curious characters. His Monster has to evolve from being of virtually zero-intelligence, to a creature that’s far more sophisticated. To reveal any more would be to spoil - suffice to say that Hensley masters the transformation magnificently.

As this review is published, the producers have announced that the run is extending into late 2018. Hurrah! Young Frankenstein is a fabulous night out.

Booking until 29th September 2018

Photo credit: Manuel Harlan

Potted Panto - Review

Garrick Theatre, London


****


Written by Daniel Clarkson, Jefferson Turner and Richard Hurst
Directed by Richard Hurst

Jefferson Turner and Daniel Clarkson

Potted Panto, the Olivier nominated offering from Daniel Clarkson and Jefferson Turner, the pair behind Potted Potter that was acclaimed on both sides of the pond, returns for a fourth seasonal West End run at the Garrick Theatre

As the title suggests, Clarkson and Turner bring together all that's fun in the traditional Xmas pantos currently playing up and down the land, condensing the mayhem into a fun-packed 80 minutes (plus interval).

The pair spoof classic yarns that include Jack And The Beanstalk, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty, filletting the stories down to the bare bones and between them, donning a variety of costumes as they double-handedly tackle all the show's key characters. Clarkson's dumb but handsome Prince Charming makes for recurring chuckles as Turner valiantly tackles the title roles of the various tales. Memorable moments include Clarkson's take on a pantomime cow, as well as his remarkable interpretation of (both of) Cinderella's ugly sisters.

It's all bonkers and rather brilliant, as the pinpoint comic timing and moments of ridiculous slapstick have the kids (and a few of grown ups too) in the audience in hysterics. Guest reviewer Layla (5yo) thought the whole show was "really good" and couldn't stop laughing throughout - while her brother Arthur (3) was held rapt from start to finish.

All the usual panto routines are all there (oh yes they are) and with plenty of audience participation and sweets (and super soakers) being sprayed from the stage, the whole gig makes for fabulous family fun. Note that many dates over the holiday season are already sold out, so book now.

Runs until 15th January 2017

Photo credit: Geraint Lewis

My Lifelong Love – An Evening with Georgia Stitt and Friends - Review

Garrick Theatre, London

*****

Georgia Stitt

Take one gifted composer, six sensational solo artists and five fine musicians. Place them on a practically empty stage and let the music do the rest. This was exactly what happened at the Garrick this week when America songwriter Georgia Stitt, for one night only, made her West End debut. 

In a cleverly arranged evening, act one comprised eleven solo numbers, with the second half a selection of songs for multiple voices. Impressive amongst the men were Jamie Muscato whose The Light Of The World was both powerful and moving. Norman Bowman joined Muscato to perform She, possibly one of the most stunning contemporary male duets written, with Bowman’s rendition of Sonnet XXIX making an excellent close to Act 1. A credit to both him and Stitt for taking some of Shakespeare’s most beautiful prose and so delicately fitting the words to music. Stitt’s confession that, having grown up in Memphis her style has been significantly influenced by the Blues, was more than evident in Simon Bailey’s incredibly cool performance of At This Turn In The Road Again, a song (along with many others) in which AJ Brinkman’s work on bass was a treat to listen to. 

Notwithstanding the testosterone-fuelled talent on stage, it was the vocal acrobatics from Stitt’s three (leading) ladies that carried the evening’s killer punch. Their talents were never bettered than when Eva Noblezada, Caroline Sheen and Cynthia Erivo combined in an electric three-part harmony for Before I Lose My Mind. Sheen is a masterclass in herself in her, notably in her powerful The Baby Song, ingeniously fooling the audience with a comedic opening, only to end in tragedy. Erivo’s velvet voice quickly evolved into the trademark musical theatre power house, especially in Stitt’s hauntingly complex number The Wanting Of You. Finally, London newcomer and Miss Saigon star Noblezada displayed innocence and vulnerability combined with her faultless vocals in Almost Everything I Need. 

Such a strong company needed no more set than the stark frame of The Garrick’s current production The Scottsboro Boys and it’s only a shame that gigs and material as good as this aren’t heard live more frequently. Let’s hope that Georgia Stitt won’t keep us waiting too long for her UK return.

The Scottsboro Boys - Review

Garrick Theatre,  London

*****

Music and lyrics by John Kander and Fred Ebb

Book by David Thompson

Directed and choreography by Susan Stroman

MY FEATURE ARTICLE: BACKSTAGE WITH THE SCOTTSBORO BOYS

l-r  Colman Domingo, Julian Glover and Forrest McClendon

A year after it wowed the critics in its London debut at the Young Vic, (see my 2013 review below) The Scottsboro Boys returns to cross the Thames. With many of the 2013 cast reprising their roles at the Garrick, the show's West End opening offers a rare privilege to re-review this 5-star treat, last year's Critics' Circle choice as Best Musical.

The Scottsboro Boys is written around a true 1930's travesty of justice that defined the hateful ugliness of America's Deep South. Eight black men and a boy, all of African American heritage, were falsely accused of raping two white women as their train stopped in Scottsboro, Alabama. Their subsequent conviction and death sentences polarised the USA. As the South was still licking its wounds barely 70 years after the Civil War, the North mounted a defence campaign that was to see 8 of the nine boys paroled. Parole, by its very nature, demands an admission of guilt and amidst a bevy of standout performances, it is Brandon Victor Dixon's Haywood Patterson, a man whose conscience couldn't permit him to utter a lie and who, defiantly, was to spend his life wrongly incarcerated, upon whom the story's spotlight falls.

Dixon is a long-established Broadway talent and having spent the last year listening to his voice on my iPhone in the NY cast recording, it is a privilege to witness him live. Patterson's journey carries the show and he bears his principled stand with passion, poignancy and perfect performance. The brilliant jazz-hands irony of his softly sung Nothing as he pleads his innocence, echoes the sardonic lyric of Kander and Ebb's Mr Cellophane from Chicago. The observations are as sharp, but this time there's no comedy.

The company are excellent throughout, with fellow Broadway imports Colman Domingo and Forrest McClendon defining the harshest of satires as minstrel jesters Messrs Bones and Tambo, their gags making a pastiche of Vaudevilke. Deliberately corny, the clown-like versatility of these men and Domingo's comedy-horror rictus grin seal the brilliance of the genre.

The jarring perversity of Kander & Ebb telling this history story via a minstrel show, only serves to underline the perversion of justice to which Alabama subjugated itself as its rednecks bayed for the Boys' blood. The minstrel show's Interlocutor, 79yo veteran Brit Julian Glover, gives a performance that subtly combines majesty with a brilliantly understated bumbling ineptness. A man who believes passionately in what he perceives to be justice, yet who has also learned his racist views from childhood, carrying a sincerely held belief that black people are worth less than white. Glover's is an acting masterclass.

Elsewhere, excellence drips from this show. Broadway talent James T Lane, resplendent in frock and hat as Ruby Bates, one of the perjurious white women, dances across the stage with a movement that has to be believed. Susan Stroman, who has remained with the show since it's emergence off-Broadway back in 2010 has envisioned the ghastly tale magnificently, never bettered than in the slickly-sickly tap routine Electric Chair. A mention too for the brilliantly delivered tour of Fred Ebb's take on the South's music, played under Phil Cornwell's baton.

First time around, this review failed to pay sufficient respect to the character of The Woman, played by Dawn Hope, onstage almost throughout and saying nothing until the final scene. Consider (or google) Rosa Parks in history and it becomes abundantly clear how much of a cornerstone in the USA's Civil Rights movement The Scottsboro Boys became.

The Scottsboro Boys is unmatched on any London stage. As both a history lesson as well as a display of world-class stagecraft it stands apart. More than unmissable, if you care for humanity and appreciate some of the finest song and dance around, this show has to be seen.

Runs at until Saturday 21st February 2015


Later this month I shall be touring Scottsboro, Alabama and visiting The Scottsboro Boys Museum.

Follow me on Twitter @MrJonathanBaz for my upcoming writing about this visit.

MY REVIEW OF THE 2013 YOUNG VIC PRODUCTION

Backstage with The Scottsboro Boys - Feature

The Young Vic Company

As the West End welcomes The Scottsboro Boys, I ventured backstage at London’s Garrick Theatre during final rehearsals to catch up with its inspirationally committed producer Catherine Schreiber, along with one of the production’s talented US imports actor James T Lane. I wanted to learn a little more about this remarkable minstrel show, that took the Young Vic by storm last December and went on to win the (UK’s most respected) Critics’ Circle award for Best Musical 2013. 

The Scottsboro Boys was to be the final collaboration of one of the greatest songwriting partnerships, that of John Kander and Fred Ebb. Kander and Ebb were masters of that rare art of studying man’s inhumanity to man and then being able to set the wickedness to toe-tapping tunes. Who else could have written Cabaret, a show about the rise of Nazism and the impending Holocaust, that was to give Liza Minelli such a career-defining belter of a title song. 

The start of the Scottsboro Boys’ true story may pre-date Hitler’s accession to the German Chancellorship by two years and by half a world, but history has taught us that evil respects no borders. With the Great Depression gripping the nation after the stock-market crash of 1929, people hopped freight trains to travel from one city to the next in search of work when a fight between blacks and whites broke out on a train in Jackson County on March 25, 1931. The train was brought to a halt at Scottsboro and trying to avoid arrest, two women on the train falsely accused nine black youths of raping them. It was an inflammatory allegation in the Jim-Crow South, where many whites were attempting to preserve supremacy just 66 years after the end of the Civil War and it did not take too much legal process for the accusations to be “proved” and for all nine to be sentenced to Alabama’s electric chair.

The Scottsboro Boys' plight gripped the nation, galvanising liberals in the North as their champions and proving a significant keystone in the foundations of the nascent Civil Rights Movement. Their case lurched precariously through the Alabama justice system and whilst this article will not reveal how the story ends, the whole musical focusses acutely upon the key tenet on which justice and decent society depend. That of individuals telling the truth. 

l-r David Thompson, Susan Stroman, Catherine Schreiber, John Kander
photo credit Paul Kolnick

Together with London's Young Vic and fellow New Yorker Paula Marie Black, Schreiber is Lead Producing the Garrick show, but the passion for both telling this tale and championing its cause is clearly in Schreiber's DNA. Following The Scottsboro Boys' off-Broadway premier at New York’s Vineyard Theatre (a production that gave rise to the only currently available Cast Recording, though Schreiber hints, intriguingly, at a London recording possibly being released) she worked hard to bring the show to Broadway, where it only was to last a disappointingly short run. Away from the stage and at home, her lawyer husband shares her passion for racial equality. He served his training clerkship with Thurgood Marshall, the man who was to become the first USA Supreme Court justice of African American heritage

Today, Scottsboro's The Scottsboro Boys Museum is curated by Shelia Washington and Schreiber’s eyes welled up (and to be honest, so did mine) as she spoke of having worked alongside this formidable woman, as the Broadway show (and beyond) evolved. Washington has laboured tirelessly for the Boys’ guilty verdicts to be revoked by the State of Alabama and her efforts remind us not only of the power of human endeavour (hers) in fighting for a cause, but also of quite how frighteningly recent and contemporary this whole episode has remained. It was not until April 2013 (that’s last year!) that the Scottsboro Boys were all finally exonerated by Alabama at a ceremony where Schreiber, already honoured with the key to Scottsboro, gave the keynote address.

Sat next to Schreiber, and with the assuring air of a performer who knows his material inside out, James T Lane exudes a gorgeously relaxed yet finely balanced poise as we talk. No stranger to the trans-Atlantic showbiz commute, this gifted hoofer not only wowed the crowds at the Young Vic with The Scottsboro Boys’ London debut, he had already spent most of that year at the London Palladium playing Richie in the acclaimed revival of A Chorus Line. His extensive experience, both on Broadway and across the USA belies his youthful 36 years and I for one would have loved to have seen his Tyrone in Fame, as the man’s voice and movement are simply astonishing.

James T Lane

As an African-American, Lane brings his own experiences to the show. Our discussions range across the racial prejudices experienced on both sides of the Atlantic, though whilst Britain is a multi-cultural nation that is still in pursuit of a more harmonious society, this country has only welcomed significant numbers of non-white immigrants since the latter half of the 20th century. America’s Statue of Liberty may well represent the open arms of a melting pot too all, but the African-American legacy that pre-dates the Civil War and stretches back to periods of horrendous slavery, provides a far more complex, painful history. 

My opening paragraph referred to The Scottsboro Boys as a minstrel show, but remember that it was this black-slapped buffoonery that dominated America’s theatres during the 19th century, promoting its insidiously acceptable culture of acceptable racism. Shamefully, it was only as late as 1978 that the BBC were still broadcasting The Black And White Minstrel Show across Britain in a primetime Saturday night slot. That The Scottsboro Boys spectacularly lampoons the minstrel genre, with a beautifully weighted gravitas from British white veteran actor Julian Glover as the show’s Interlocutor (think of a Variety Hall’s Chairman) only adds to the show’s painful poignancy.

Lane also remarks on the joy, of instead of going “up against” his African- American competitors in auditions, often pursuing the same opportunity, how The Scottsboro Boys has provided an opportunity for him to work (brilliantly, I might add) with some of his closest friends in the business. 

But Lane is only one of a number of Americans who have travelled back to the UK with the production. As well as having performed his roles in the Broadway show (and he plays, with remarkable conviction, one of the falsely accusing white women, Ruby Bates) he is joined by other Broadway veterans, including Brandon Victor Dixon, Forrest McClendon and Colman Domingo, all three of whom created their roles way back in 2010 at the Vineyard. Dixon’s Hayward Patterson is the show’s lead character whose struggles with the abuse of truth prove to be the show’s emotional fulcrum, whilst McClendon and Domingo play the minstrel-show regulars of Mr Bones and Mr Tambo, adopting all manner of acutely observed satirical characterisations.

The Young Vic Production

Whilst a five-star show has to deliver perfect performances from its actors, it is the creative talent behind the show that inspires the excellence and the pedigree of The Scottsboro Boys' team is faultless. As well as Kander and Ebb’s compositions that are structured around David Thompson’s book, it is Susan Stroman, the wunder-talent of recent years in musical theatre who has remained the director and choreographer of the show from the Vineyard to the Garrick. Hers is a remarkable commitment, for on the simplest of stages (this show has no techno-gimmicks whatsoever) the movement that she extracts from her company has to be seen to be believed.

Only on for 20 weeks The Scottsboro Boys will make you laugh and cry and the West End reviews will be out soon. Until then, these are my thoughts on the Young Vic production. The show truly is unmissable. See it and be humbled and amazed.

Runs at the Garrick Theatre until Saturday 21st February 2015

Loserville - Review

Garrick Theatre, London

****

Book, music and lyrics by Elliot Davis and James Bourne

Director: Steven Dexter

This review was first published in The Public Reviews

Eliza Hope Bennett and Aaron Sidwell in the Planetarium

Busting on to London’s West End following a run at the West Yorkshire Playhouse, Loserville is a rare beast, an entirely original musical brimming with innovation. Free of star billings and with no movie or jukebox tie-in, this show stands on the infectious confectionery of its lyrics and a deliciously talented cast.

Staged on an amusingly “low-tech/hi-tech” melee of printed circuit boards, this all-American story – played out in the 1970s – follows teenager Michael Dork, a geeky, youthful, Bill Gates-type character, as he discovers the foundation of internet computer connectivity. Along the way he encounters love, betrayal, jealousy and rivalry, not to mention the villainous scheming of the local rich-kid bully, out to steal his invention. Francis O’Connor’s design, with oversized pencils and notepads, suggests a Matilda, albeit one for high school kids, and the whole visual impression is that of a retro cartoon-style America, in which the digital age has yet to take off.

Responsible for the music and lyrics, as well as the book, are Elliott Davis and James Bourne. Bourne was the creative force behind the UK band Busted and to those familiar with his recordings, the style of his compositions will not disappoint. He has a clever eye and ear for the nuances, angsts and frustrations of teenage life and the songs Don’t Let ‘Em Bring You Down and The Little Things provide amusing vehicles which not only portray the boys’ awkwardness but also describe the teenage girls’ recognition of the testosterone fuelled course that boys typically chart through adolescence. Whilst the bouncing Busted tone and sometimes smutty lyrics are a guilty pleasure to which to listen, the plot does occasionally become more reflective, though plaintive number We’re Not Alone, set in the town’s (beautifully lit) planetarium, fails to move in the way that the writers would have intended. Steven Dexter has directed a show that is a fun and imaginative night out, but is nonetheless a tale that lacks a central passion. The plot pales in comparison with, say, the grand celebration of human diversity that was the bedrock underlying Hairspray. It feels simply too hard, and actually too geeky, for the audience to care too much about the invention of email.

Aaron Sidwell leads the line as Dork, and whilst his acting is convincing, his voice lacks a smoothness that one might expect from a West End production. No doubt as the production settles into its run his vocal performance will mature. Lucas Lloyd is Dork’s closest buddy, and Richard Lowe in this role, presents the most moving portrayal of social inadequacy of the night. His solo number Holly, I’m The One, in which he painfully pines for the girl who Dork is romancing, is perceptive and poignant. As Holly, Eliza Hope Bennett is both convincing and impressive to listen to whilst Charlotte Harwood’s performance as the bitchy girl Leia is also a fun caricature to savour. The astonishing performance of the night however is delivered by NYMT alumnus Stewart Clarke as bad guy Eddie, not only making his professional and West End debut, but filling the shoes of Gareth Gates who had created the role in Leeds. It may well be easier to act the villain, oozing pecs, sex and charisma, but Clarke owns the stage with powerful delivery and superbly controlled poise.

This ball of candy floss of a show undoubtedly makes a fun family treat. Nick Winston’s clever choreography delights and the production will appeal to both those old enough to remember the 70s and those young enough to enjoy the clever songs of Bourne and Davis.

Runs until 2nd March