Guys and Dolls - Review

Kilworth House, Leicestershire



*****


Music and lyrics by Frank Loesser
Book by Jo Swerling and Abe Burrows
Directed and choreographed by Nick Winston

Daniel Stockton and company

Not since 1982 at the National Theatre have the opening bars of Runyonland (the preamble / overture to Guys and Dolls) generated such a tingle of excitement as Philip Witcomb’s set design, built within Kilworth House’s ingeniously covered open-air space, captures the essence of New York complete with billboards, steam, and a glimpse of the Manhhattan Bridge.

Guys and Dolls was described by Kenneth Tynan as "the second greatest American play after Death of a Salesman". He's not wrong for the show is surely the most sparkling study on the human condition that has ever been set to song. The enduring love between Nathan Detroit and Miss Adelaide is as gritty, real and recognisable as it is hilarious – while the romance that evolves between Sky Masterson and Sarah Brown is straight out of an everyday fairytale. The tunes and lyrics are both Broadway’s and Frank Loesser’s finest. For the show to soar, all that is needed is a faultless cast - thus the greatest plaudits in this production belong to director /choreographer Nick Winston and his casting director Anne Vosser for having assembled some of the nation's finest musical theatre talent to create this sensational revival.

Daniel Robinson and Holly Dale Spencer are the interminably engaged Nathan and Adelaide and if there is one (tiny) niggle, it is the inconsistency of their New York accents. Spencer pronounces person as “poysson” perfectly, whereas Robinson’s American twang is just a bit too mild and preppy. But ‘tis a minor flaw – because the chemistry between the pair, along with their solo energies too, is just non-stop pleasure, delivered with pinpoint timing. The “blossom time” scene, as Adelaide inadvertently interrupts the hoodlums assembling for their floating crap game is, in 10 seconds of exquisite drama, perhaps the finest example of musical theatre comedy to be found today.

Nathan Detroit as a role doesn’t demand vocal perfection – but it does require presence and nuance in spades and Robinson’s diminutive features see him rise to the challenge magnificently. Holly Dale Spencer however is a vocal powerhouse of raucous, raunchy excellence, Her Hot Box routines emphasising that venue’s sleazy burlesque in a way that few other productions have dared to portray so honestly.

As Sarah, Harriet Jones brings a soprano strength to the role that has rarely if ever been heard. In I'll Know, her first duet with Sky, she takes the roof (OK, the canvas awning) off of Kilworth House leaving this reviewer stunned in his seat. Jones sings with a power and perfection that makes spines tingle. Opposite her, Simon Thomas’ Sky Masterson is another delight. Authoritative, persistent and yet vulnerable, Thomas’ chiselled looks and majestic voice define this ultimate gambler. And as for the chemistry ( yeah,  chemistry, again) betwixt him and Jones, its flawless!

The supporting guys and dolls are equally entertaining. Adam Venus’ Benny Southstreet is a neat turn, while the crackingly corpulent Daniel Stockton makes fine, full work of Sit Down, You’re Rockin’ the Boat, stopping the show wonderfully in act two and arguably, well worthy of a mid-show encore too . Martin Neely’s Brannigan breathes life into the tiniest of roles, while Graham Hoadly’s Arvide Abernathy is a masterclass in avuncularity. Hoadly’s take on More I Cannot Wish You, again, another tiny song in the show, is similarly perhaps the best ever. A nod too for Will Kenning’s Big Jule who manages a marvellous mix of menace and mirth and for NeilMacDonald's 12 piece band, tucked away in their off-stage marquee, who make fine work of the timeless score.

It is also the inspired little touches that make this such a standout production. In what could be a nod to Follies, Winston has his mink-laden Hot Box Girls enter down staircases for their second act opener; Chris Whybrow’s sound design doesn’t just subtly overlay New York traffic sounds but in the romantic Cuban moments, listen carefully to waves lapping on the shore; and as Sarah and Adelaide rue the men in their lives with Marry the Man Today, we see the typically sober sergeant pull a bottle of Bacardi from her handbag. Genius!

Only on at Kilworth House for two more weeks – this is a truly fabulous fable.

Runs until 8th July

Mrs Henderson Presents - Review

Theatre Royal, Bath

*****

Music by George Fenton & Simon Chamberlain

Lyrics by Don Black

Direction and book by Terry Johnson

Tracie Bennett

A musical can only be as good as its underlying book – and in Mrs Henderson Presents, the show’s fable couldn’t be more strong or poetic. Based upon the 2005 movie, the true story tells of Laura Henderson, wealthy widow and owner of London’s Windmill Theatre, who sought to halt the venue’s falling revenues by putting on shows of naked girls. Britain’s censorship laws were fierce at the time, forbidding nude performers, but in a bid to circumvent the Lord Chamberlain’s disapproval, Henderson, along with close adviser Vivian Van Damm, concoct a revue that will feature naked women but in still life tableaux. The Windmill’s success was assured and as war with Germany broke out in 1939, so did the Windmill never close, always packed with troops enjoying morale boosting visits even through the darkest days of the Blitz and in its own way capturing the essence of British resilience.

The story works on so many levels. Laura Henderson herself is an independently minded woman, ahead of her time. Van Dam is a Dutch Jew, painfully aware of his family’s destiny in continental Europe, the Lord Chamberlain is a deliciously blustering (and compromised) political buffoon (who one can easily imagine lived in Dolphin Square) and then there are the girls. Invited to contemplate performing in the nude, the show picks out their anxieties, aspirations and in the case of Maureen, a Lyons’ nippy who much like Mack and Mabel’s Mabel Normand is discovered by Mrs Henderson and fast becomes the star of the show, a poignant love interest too.

Terry Johnson’s book (and Johnson also directs) in conjunction with Don Black’s lyrics precisely fillets the shows emotions. There’s comedy that includes moments of fabulously rehearsed plank-based slapstick, naked men’s bottoms and a sprinkling of Carry On infused knob gags - a seam of humor which if mined responsibly can always prove eye-watering. But there is also the pathos of Laura Henderson’s love for her theatre and ultimately her girls, set against her own mortality and failing health. There’s the tragedy and passion of the war – and there is the portrayal of the girls’ journey to their nude performances, delivered without pulling any punches, but which is at all times beautiful, tasteful and not once gratuitous.

Making a welcome return to the English stage, Tracie Bennett plays Laura Henderson with her usual perfection in poise, presence and performance. Believable as a wealthy lady bucking the disapproval of her peers, Bennett commands the stage. Vocally magnificent, with Whatever Time I Have, along with a massive finish to If Mountains Were Easy To Climb Bennett reminds us what a star of today’s musical theatre stage she truly is. More of this woman, please.

Ian Bartholomew is Van Dam, bringing a carefully crafted compound of comic bluster with profound pathos to his part. There’s smutty genius in his number Rubens And Renoir, that sees him explaining the concept of nudity to the girls (in a scene that using a hugely oversized picture frame, speaks volumes just in imagery) – whilst Living In A Dream World offers just enough of a carefully weighted glimpse into his agony at what is happening across the North Sea.

Maureen is played by the truly scrumptious Emma Williams – whose voice and movement are exquisite. We see her rise and fall in love and in moments that wrench at heart strings, Williams is always on point, never sentimentalising, just delivering. Her number Ordinary Girl tells of plaintive aspirations, whilst her duet with Matthew Malthouse’s Eddie, What A Waste Of A Moon is a vocal and choreographic treat. Indeed, huge credit to choreographer Andrew Wright who at time brings traditional music hall, gorgeous tap routines and some moments of glorious ballet to the show.

Graham Hoadly’s Lord Cromer, the Lord Chancellor, is yet another turn from this gifted performer that defines comic acting through song, as Mark Hadfield serves up a treat as a stand-up comic, part narrator, part teller of gags that are as old as the hills, yet which still raise a chuckle.

The show’s nudity demands a professional bravura from its actresses and as Williams leads the line, she is ably backed by Katie Bernstein, Lizzy Connolly and Lauren Hood who all bring a respectful, tasteful dignity to their roles – beautifully sung and acted.

George Fenton and Simon Chamberlain have written a score that defines England through the 19th and 20th centuries. There is much of the music-hall in some numbers, whilst the Lord Chamberlain’s Song suggests a nod to Gilbert and Sullivan. Their lampooning of the Germans as the war rolls on and creation of melodies that define a sense of national pride, offer a musical take on history that speaks loud and clear to a modern audience. Theirs’s is beautifully crafted work, alongside Tim Shortall's inspired set design and Richard Mawbey's wonderful wig work.

The orchestra is under Mike Dixon’s baton and it is clear that this gifted music-man has had much to do with the show’s evolution. It was the Dixon and Johnson team (with Bartholomew starring) who last year so wonderfully revived Oh What A Lovely War! At Stratford East and there is just a touch of how that show marked The Great War, in how Mrs Henderson Presents tackles the war with Hitler.

Mrs Henderson Presents is innovative new writing – beautifully staged and so wonderfully British. Only dipping the briefest of toes into Bath’s delightful Theatre Royal, this show demands a transfer to the West End.

Runs until 5th September