Parade (at Hope Mill Theatre, Manchester) - Review

Hope Mill Theatre, Manchester


*****


Music & lyrics by Jason Robert Brown
Book by Alfred Uhry
Directed by James Baker

The company of Parade

As musicals go, Jason Robert Brown's Parade is a tough gig. His Tony-winning score is an immense fusion of the sounds of America’s South, tackling a monstrous story of love in adversity and the utter depths of man's capacity to hate. The Leo Frank trial in the early 20th century split America, laying bare the racist core of the Confederacy. 80 years later, Brown's show was to become a troubling piece that held a mirror to its country’s soul - a mirror that to this day a large part of that nation still resolutely refuses to look in.

One of the first productions to be mounted in this newest of Manchester's venues, the old mill building lends itself well to Parade's disquieting storyline. Tough shows however require a strong cast and in this ensemble James Baker has assembled a company of standout performers. The show opens with the uncomfortably stirring The Old Red Hills Of Home and playing the Young Soldier, Aidan Banyard sets spines tingling within the first 30 seconds. As the show unfolds Banyard's vocal magnificence is found to be replicated throughout the entire cast.

Any production of Parade has to rest on strength in its leads of Leo and Lucille Frank. Tom Lloyd shines as the unfortunate Jewish accountant who finds himself framed and racially persecuted for a crime he did not commit, the rape and murder of a 13yo. Lloyd captures Frank's stubborn indignity perfectly, his slight frame metamorphosing into a performance of utter litheness in Come Up To My Office, before slumping back into quiet and purposeful, pleading, principle within It's Hard To Speak My Heart.

More than a match for Lloyd, Laura Harrison's Lucille brings a stunningly voiced maturity to the Southern belle that is Frank's troubled wife. Her initial uncertainty as to his innocence, that slowly forges itself into a righteous defence of her innocent husband is one of the finest female turns seen this year. Brown has written Lucille some spectacular numbers and Harrison brings an especially beautiful resonance to You Don't Know This Man, alongside the heartbreaking irony of her powerful duet with Leo, All The Wasted Time.

There is not a weak link in this cast. Memorable for their multi-role excellence are Matt Mills and James Wolstenhome. The sole black man in the cast, Mills has to pick up all of the parts that demand an African American male - and in playing wily convict Jim Conley, Mills displays a sublime mastery of the blues. There is an unsettling insouciance to his manner that only adds to the show's momentum. Mention too, here, for Shekinah McFarlane's Angela with a performance that more than suggests Cynthia Erivo's style and presence in its pedigree.

Wolstenhome however is simply a chameleon of performing excellence. It is hard to believe his Governor Slaton is played by the same man who also plays the (sometimes gutter) journalist Britt Craig, with his take on Craig's big number, Real Big News proving flawless, shocking and exhilarating.

Andrew Gallo's manipulative prosecutor (and Governor in waiting) Hugh Dorsey brings just the right amount of deviant corruption to the politics of his game, likewise Nathan Summer's portrayal of the evil Tom Watson. Spewing racist bile through the medium of hymn, Summer chills as he taps into the South's collective frustration at their racial purity being defiled,

The show's staging is inspired, with Baker using the mill's full space alongside William Whelton's clever choreography, to jar our attention. If one or two of his directions have wandered slightly off-piste it's no big deal - the strength of this show lies in the stripped-down excellence that Baker coaxes from his actors.

Musically, Tom Chester directs a 9 piece band that pays magnificent service to Brown's musical maelstrom. And in a nod to the trio of Chester, Baker and producer (and local girl) Katy Lipson, Manchester is unlikely to have seen many fringe performances assembled to such a high standard of production value. If you're coming from afar, the show is well worth the train fare. If you live in the North West, Parade is unmissable.


Runs until 5th June
Photo credit: Anthony Robling


Click here to read my foreword to Parade.

Parade (at London Theatre Workshop) - Review

London Theatre Workshop, London


***


Music & lyrics by Jason Robert Brown
Book by Alfred Uhry
Directed by Jody Tranter

Victoria Hope

Jason Robert Brown’s Parade is a beautifully constructed Tony-winner of a show that shuttered early. Broadway’s loss was to prove London’s gain, as Rob Ashford (who was the original show’s dance captain) went on to stage a sell-out run at the Donmar Warehouse in 2007, before Thom Southerland was to match his feat at the Southwark Playhouse some 4 years later. 

So why did the New York public shun the work? Possibly because Parade holds a mirror up to an ugly stain on America’s history: the brute racism of the country’s Confederate Southland. And no-one, least of all the Americans, likes to hear of their own nation’s fallibilities.

Parade tells the true, tragic tale of Leo Frank an Atlanta Jew who was falsely accused of murdering a Christian girl and subsequently lynched. Frank’s murder trial, in which he was framed before being found guilty (though was quite likely en-route to a pardon at the time of his lynching), polarised a nation, to this day still split by the Mason Dixon line, as the North campaigned for his liberty. The Frank case was made all the more distinctive in American history as it was a white man who was lynched. Brown’s genius is to pull none of his punches and as act two opens with Rumblin’ and a Rollin’, the show’s only two black cast members sing the lyric “there's a black man swingin' in ev'ry tree”, acknowledging the more familiar horror of the Deep South’s racist heritage. 

Jody Tranter is ambitious in mounting the show in the modest confines of Fulham’s London Theatre Workshop. Brown’s glorious music channels styles that range from ballad, to gospel and even a cakewalk with the composer bestowing unforgiving complexity on his melodies. Fortunately under musical director Erika Gundesen’s five piece ensemble, the justice that was denied Leo Frank is beautifully done to the score and a special mention to drummer Tom Chester for nailing the staccato beat of fascism that Brown intended.

Notwithstanding some moments of first rate acting however, with Ross Barnes’ Leo Frank convincing as the humble Frank, the musical magnificence does not extend to the cast’s singing. A modest budget has kept the company un-mic’d and as a consequence, all too often, Brown’s razor sharp lyrics are inaudible – this from a reviewer sat in the front row! And when the ensemble voices kick off (beautifully) any solo moments are lost in a vocal melee.

Songs that should pack a punch, particularly You Don’t Know This Man, fail to hit their intended sweet spot and at times it is hard to find the emotional connection to the work that in a well-executed show, should be wringing the audience’s consciences and heart strings.

There are some moments of class: Lily de-la-Haye’s Lucille Frank is a picture of tragic desperation as the jubilant town celebrates the guilty verdicts in a harrowing act one closer, whilst Nazerene Williams and Michael Moulton deliver the aforementioned second half opener with strength and gusto. If some of the doubling up of roles is occasionally confusing, Victoria Hope’s multi-part contribution to the show is delivered with a vocal punch that makes us sit up and listen. Her take on My Child Will Forgive Me is sublime and if (most of) the rest of the cast were to copy hers’ (and to be fair, also the veteran Dudley Rogers’) excellent voicework, it can only be for the production’s good.

Whilst a modest budget is understandable, sloppy typos in the programme are inexcusable and hint at a lack of attention to detail - Jason Robert Brown and this talented company deserve better from the producers.

Runs to 13th September