Caroline, Or Change - Review

Playhouse Theatre, London


***


Music by Jeanine Tesori
Book & lyrics by Tony Kushner
Directed by Michael Longhurst

Sharon D Clarke and Ako Mitchell

Caroline, Or Change is a curious show that sees a 5 Star cast deliver distinctly flawed material. Set in an early 1960s Louisiana, Sharon D. Clarke plays Caroline Thibodeaux, an African-American maid employed by the (Jewish) Gellman family. Caroline is low paid and hard working and Kushner and Tesori do a fair job in sketching out the prejudiced, poverty trap that blighted the South’s African-Americans, a situation that some may argue continues to the present day.

Where Thibodeaux, we learn, has three growing children for whom she heroically and proudly provides on little more than a hand-to-mouth basis, the Gellman household is a desert of dysfunctionality. Noah (played by the confident and cool Jack Meredith on the night of this review) is 9 years old. His mother having passed away some time back sees the boy now being raised by father Stuart and step-mother Rose (Lauren Ward) . Kushner goes on to suggest an intriguing, but ultimately fragile, bond between Noah and Caroline as the child seeks and apparently (so we are led to believe) receives, emotional succour from the matriarchal maid. Noah despises Rose, leaving Stuart reduced to little more than an (oddly) clarinet playing nonentity. The reed playing offers a possible musical twist but as an easy nod to perhaps a hint of klezmer in the score, its an unusually lazy touch from Tesori. Rose rarely strays from an angst and kvetch-ridden neurotic, while the Gellman grandparents offer little more than superfluous stereotypes.

In their portrayal of the African-American characters however, the writers soar. Caroline listens to the radio - itself embodied by three beautifully soulful singers, while the bus that she takes to and from her work, is also given a living soul. And one only needs a moment’s recollection of Rosa Parks to recognise the clunking symbolism of the bus in the narrative.

Technically it is not just Clarke who is award-winningly magnificent. Ako Mitchell as The Dryer and The Bus is, as ever, on fine form, while Abiona Omonua as Caroline’s daughter Emmie is another vocal star.

But taking a step back, one can see that Kushner and Tesori, possibly burdened by their white privilege, have deified Caroline and her community, while monstering America's Jews on both sides of the Mason Dixon Line. In Rose’s petty fussing over Noah’s inability to recognise the value of even the smallest amount of loose change, she embodies one of the oldest anti-semitic tropes in the book: that of the Jew as mean and penny-pinching. It is (thankfully) not often that such a potentially hate-filled stereotype is played out on stage. 

In his musical Parade, Jason Robert Brown offered a passionate yet dignified exploration of the South’s capacity to hate both Jews and people of colour. Kushner lacks that dignity offering us instead his own personal expiatory, prompted possibly by a personal conflict with his Jewish heritage? In today's world of increasing hatred Kushner might have done better to have worked his issues out in the therapist’s chair, rather than impose them upon the theatregoers of Broadway and the West End.

Booking until 6th April 2019

Bat Boy: The Musical - Review

Southwark Playhouse, London

***

Music and lyrics by Laurence O'Keefe

Book by Keythe Farley and Brian Flemming

Directed by Luke Fredericks

Rob Compton

Much like the winged mammal of its title, Laurence O’Keefe’s Bat Boy: The Musical is a rarely spotted show. A shortish run off-Broadway in 2001, followed by a 2005 early closing at London’s Shaftesbury Theatre mark its chequered past. Director Luke Fredericks however, garnered critical acclaim last year with a fringe Carousel at Dalston’s Arcola, so it is an intriguing prospect to see how he fares south of the river and taking on this eclectic look at super-sensationalised vampirism in small-town USA.

In a story intended as a comic-book style allegory, Rob Compton plays the Bat Boy, a speechless creature discovered in a West Virginia cave, who is to upturn the lives of local townsfolk. Compton’s performance is well crafted. From a speechless embodiment of his freakish character in the initial few scenes, he develops his capabilities, going on to stretching his bat wings with ease. From vulnerability through to a sheer unaware stupidity, he performs with a conviction matched only by faultless vocals, notably in Let Me Walk Among You and later with Inside Your Heart, a duet sung with Lauren Ward playing a complex mother figure to him as Meredith Parker.

Ward brings much compassion to her role and together with her daughter Shelley played by Georgina Hagen the two women are often the characters that lift the tale out of a rolling stylised humour and into the raw emotions of its ultimate dilemma. There is a strong mother-daughter chemistry between the pair that cleverly builds towards their respective final revelations. 

The cast are all strong, performing with a tongue in cheek pastiche that makes the full company numbers hilarious, a particular treat being the ever excellent Simon Bailey. His performance as faith healer Reverend Hightower, opening act two with A Joyful Noise, sees Bailey dazzle, not only in his gold shoes and yellow suit but with an infectious zany energy that few can match.

The show however remains a curiosity, with Fredericks treading a careful path that aims for deliberate kitschness while trying to avoid the crass. It’s a tough call that doesn’t always work, with the show’s design by Stewart Charlesworth occasionally seeming tacky. A stuffed toy cow’s head complete with intestines in tow, Barbie doll-like puppets abseiling down the set and an over-sized lethal injection syringe, set a tone that occasionally oversteps the mark.

Nonetheless, Bat Boy: The Musical is another example of the vibrancy of London’s Off-West End theatre scene. Mark Crossland’s well arranged five piece band with Joe McKneely’s imaginative choreography all make for a grand night out and if you enjoy wallowing in that guilty pleasure of kitsch Americana, then its unmissable!

Runs until 31st January 2015