Issue 21 - 2004
Prompt Corner 
Oh, how quickly power corrupts! Only a few months ago on these pages I was acknowledging that perhaps this year the perennial "West End in crisis" stories might actually have some substance to them, as a succession of shows closed after only three or four weeks. This issue, we might almost be accused of gloating over the swift demise of the shows on our front and back covers.
Well, partly the choice of cover was a matter of available images: finding a shot that was decent, in the right format, for an important enough show, with space for overwritten text, from the selection on offer for the relevant fortnight. And then, having realised that Murderous Instincts was a front-runner, hell, why not go the whole hog with Oscar Wilde instead?
Ye gods
Partly, though, it's a genuine matter of record. Theatre Record, as you know, is a niche publication: mostly, we sell to people involved in theatre, or to libraries and academic institutions. We're never likely to challenge the readership figures of Hello! magazine. Yet that claim on the cover of this issue is, I believe, literally true, at least of the run in question. The Shaw Theatre seats over 450 people; Oscar Wilde was cancelled when its second-night ticket sales totalled five. I can't recall a production of comparable size going under that quickly in the fifteen years I've been reviewing.
Did it deserve such an early death? Was it really that bad? Ye gods, it was, and worse. John Gross is entirely accurate in invoking the name of William McGonagall as regards the rhyming book: it rhymed, doggerel-fashion, but I couldn't discern anything more than the most hobbling metre to it, so that one couldn't help imagining McGonagallesque lines such as "'Twas in the year of our Lord two thousand and four/That Mike Read's musical play about the life of poet and dramatist Oscar Wilde was rapidly shown the door". The lyrics themselves were scarcely any better; I'm afraid that Ian Herbert and I started playing "guess the rhyme", and the only occasions on which we failed where those when the rhyme was wildly defective.
Vanity
The production carried the unmistakable whiff of vanity. There are two kinds of vanity in such circumstances: the kind that goes for all-out opulence in a spirit of "never mind the quality, feel the width", and the kind that imagines that what has already been done is more than sufficient to carry matters. This was the latter. A set design consisting of a couple of potted palms; a shoddily designed programme (with, interestingly, no producer credits); above all, the decision to soldier on with the press-night performance rather than call a temporary halt, even when it was glaringly apparent that the radio microphones were seriously and chronically malfunctioning (at one point, the mikes onstage weren't working, but those of the performers whispering in the wings were). This was one of those occasions when the only reason the show had to go on was stubborn pride.
Read was quoted afterwards as saying, "The reaction of the audience on press night was terrific." There was certainly warm applause, such as one might expect from a largely papered house. There were also sniggers, and I clearly heard the remark, "Oh, how ghastly!" at one juncture.
Almost exactly a year ago, Peter Blake had the lead role in Daniel Abineri's awful musical Money To Burn, which opened on a Thursday and closed between first and second performances on the Saturday. This year, he played Oscar Wilde for Mike Read. Blake is an accomplished musical actor, but he must be feeling right now that he'll never work in this town again. That honour more fittingly belongs to Read.
Bloody awful
And, well, it's been a good season for theatrical stinkers. The very night before Oscar Wilde, I caught up with the show which I have now convinced myself was actually entitled "the bloody awful Pride And Prejudice". After the performance at Greenwich, Quentin Letts and I agreed that it had been quite inoffensive. I was lying. See the reviews in Issue 19 from the beginning of its mini-tour; I have nothing to add to the comments of Charles Spencer and Lyn Gardner in particular, except some steam coming out of my own ears and the observation that I was moved to keep a tally of the number of times actors moved furniture around between one scene and another: 28. That's twenty-eight. Around once every five minutes of playing time. Not to mention the 19 onstage musical interludes (in addition to the tinnily recorded ones) and the 13 dances. On hearing of the arrival of Mr Bingley in the neighbourhood, one of the Bennet girls gasps, "Oh, what fun we shall have! What balls!" As Geoffrey Willans once put it, "molesworth by a grate act of heroism choked back the quip which rose to his lips."
I did see some good theatre during these two weeks, honest; it's just that my reviews of those shows are contained in the body of this issue, leaving me the mere lees to brag of here. And so from one adaptation of a classic novel to another. Little Women is not a bad production, just a dull one badly positioned. One can see how Andrew Loudon's production very probably worked on its previous outings in intimate spaces such as the Gatehouse, the New End or even a larger studio like the Lilian Baylis. But put it in a West End theatre - even a small one like the Duchess, seating fewer than 500 people - and it seems horribly out of proportion. Nor are matters helped by a design which keeps putting characters behind gauzes, thus reinstituting the fourth wall precisely when what's needed is a greater sense of immediacy. There's a school of thought that the West End needs to become leaner and fitter by shedding up to half a dozen playhouse venues; in this scenario, the Duchess is one of the prime candidates. It's surely important that the range of venues available should include such comparatively compact spaces; yet it becomes harder to make a case for retaining the Duchess when what one sees there are instances of ill-advised "trading-up" such as this and Coyote On A Fence (which transferred six months ago from the studio space of Manchester's Royal Exchange).
Corpse! Corpse!
Now, a few words of consolation at last: Murderous Instincts was not one of the classic West End musical disasters. (But only a few words...) It was not an appalling show; just a very, very poor one. Once again, my esteemed colleague and predecessor takes a contrary tack in .At The Back; I think his central point is valid, but as regards detailed defence, he's on to a loser here. Lots of little touches suggested that priorities were not perhaps entirely right. Things such as a band arranged in two visually very impressive tiered banks on stage, but such that only the percussionists could actually see the musical director. Things such as an interminable first-act scene (or series of scenes) where everyone met everyone else secretly in the garden at night: again, I promise I'm telling the truth that I kept myself amused during this sequence by mentally updating my will (which I needed to do, as the old version was several years old - my solicitors can indirectly thank the show's writer Cinda Fox for providing them with the resulting business). Things such as a musical number at the zenith of dramatic tension whose refrain went. "Corpse! Corpse! Where have you hidden the corpse?" When Nichola McAuliffe (the alleged corpse in question) reappeared at the end of the show, to be told that her loving family had thought her remains had been packed into a kit-bag, she took the opportunity to trumpet in best Edith Evans style, "A kiiit-baaag?!" No way did la Fox write that line.
These are all fairly abominable features. Yet despite them all, as the other Ian says, it's not necessarily a Bad Musical, with capital letters. What really did for the show was its pre-publicity. The stories about fired directors, and the director who, having been forbidden a UK work permit, tried to phone in his instructions from Paris (as the turn-'em-off tape of ringing mobile phones was played just before curtain up, I thought for a moment that Michael Rooney was still trying to get in some last-minute notes), made for highly entertaining reading - so much so that even we ran one account as Quote of the Fortnight in Issue 18. Producer Manny Fox (husband of Cinda) must have realised eventually that there is, after all, such a thing as bad publicity. He certainly seemed to learn some aspects of news management: according to one news report, he informed those involved in the production of his return to Puerto Rico only by phone from the airport and subsequently closed the show by e-mail at only a day's notice.
McAuliffe may also have cause to ruminate on how to handle a story, having at various points started the whole ball rolling by writing an article in which she described the show (then in rehearsal) as "like a motorway pile-up", then another taking the credit for saving it by persuading veteran actor Murray Melvin to come on board as "artistic advisor", and finally, when news of the closure broke, portraying herself and the cast as having been shown "total contempt and lack of respect" by the Foxes. A late career change into the Diplomatic Service does not, I think, beckon.
Much straighter talking from Louise Chantal, piqued that we mis-credited her production company when reprinting the reviews of Thom Pain (based on nothing) in Issue 18, but amused that we called it "Chantal Arts + Leisure": "I'm not the bloody London Borough of Southwark!", she laughingly protested. Many apologies; How To Act Around Cops in this issue is correctly ascribed to Chantal Arts + Theatre.
Ian Shuttleworth - ian@theatrerecord.com
At the Back
The presence in this issue of Murderous Instincts and Oscar Wilde, following close on Brighton Rock, The Woman In White and Bat Boy, make this a good moment to consider that ever interesting topic, What Makes A Bad Musical?
Regular readers of the Record will know that I have tried, pretty fruitlessly, over the years to remind the world of the virtues of a number of shows which are now legends of awfulness - to me, Always, Leonardo, Napoleon, even The Fields Of Ambrosia had good points about them which were overlooked in the general gleeful rush to trample on talent which marks London's musical reviewing.
The making of musicals has always been a risky business. Cole Porter and Irving Berlin had their flops, Rodgers and Hammerstein had Pipe Dream and Me And Juliet. The revered Mr Sondheim's work has seldom met with commercial success. But all their shows live on in recordings. From time to time one or another is "rediscovered", and found to be - surprise - rather good. Opera critics have an even worse record of winner-spotting: today's repertoire would be small indeed if they had had their way.
Cult
So what about the fabulous five at the top of this column? I've already talked about Bat Boy, which in spite of a critical drubbing seems to have acquired some of the Rocky Horror cult status it was seeking, even in the unsuitable space of the Shaftesbury. It is a bad musical of the more interesting kind, a crazy set of ideas that took over the running from its authors and scampered away on its own, leaving behind a trail of fairly good tunes and some imaginative sets. It's hard to forget.
Oscar Wilde can be dealt with pretty quickly. It wasn't much more than a staged reading, in any case, with minimal scenery, no lighting designer and a sound technician who would probably prefer not to be named, since the mics worked only intermittently, sometimes better in the wings than on stage. Mike Read has written a couple of passable songs and several execrable ones, and decided to link them with some limping rhymed couplets. He adds nothing to our perception of Wilde, except perhaps to put Constance and the children back in the picture. He is also billed as the director of a show which plainly was not directed. This is an unquestionably bad musical - badly written, badly performed and badly mounted - and would be quickly forgotten were it not for the fact that it enters the record books as London's shortest running show. Peter Blake won sympathy for being in the previous shortest runner, last year's appalling Money To Burn, but he shouldn't be let off too lightly this time for his simpering, totally empty performance as Wilde.
Unmemorable
Last issue's Brighton Rock is a bad musical because it's simply not musical. It's very well mounted on a Lez Brotherston set which, if not as exciting as his similar one for Play Without Words, fits perfectly into the Almeida's space. It's very well lit by Tim Mitchell. It's well cast in its three leads, Michael Jibson, Sophie Ragavelas and Harriet Thorpe. After that, there's little positive to say. It's hard to imagine why Graham Greene's novel should be seen as a suitable subject for a musical, and John Barry's completely unmemorable score does nothing to further the case. So experienced a movie composer could surely have produced more exciting incidental music as background for Giles Havergal's perfectly serviceable adaptation than the limp ditties (Don Black's lyrics make Mike Read seem like Milton) that interrupt it here.
Murderous Instincts is a different kettle of worms. It falls into my favourite category, the good musical damned by critical blindness - the sort of show that follows in the honourable tradition of Carmen. All the pre-opening stories, including a supremely disloyal article from its leading lady, suggested that here was a magnificent flop in the making, a prophecy duly fulfilled. But this is the moment to distinguish between a flop and a bad musical.
Hugely exciting
It's not unreasonable to expect that a show with book by the Firestone heiress (making her debut) and direction by no one in particular isn't going to be much good, and it's all too easy to follow those clues and come up with a damning review. Actually watching the show, rather than succumbing to herd instinct, can give a different impression. The overture gives us a twelve-piece salsa band, not as impressive as the 27 musicians assembled for the Puerto Rico opening but offering a very good sound. The sets, a little in the manner of Martin Johns, move smoothly from scene to scene in a fast-moving series of changes, choreographed for the chorus and full of smart little Trevor Nunn-like touches which give each of its members an individual character. Rick Clarke's sound is spot on, making the most of a very tuneful and far from one-style Alberto Carrion score. That hard-working chorus make good support for a tremendous pair of lead dancers, Jhesus Aponte (also responsible for his own hugely exciting choreography) and Janet Fuentes Torres. The large cast of characters all get their demo number, and carry a lightweight but acceptable plot to its all-smiles conclusion. I read a review by an obscure regional critic which sneered at the producer's daring to link his librettist wife with Shakespeare, but the show's dodgy twists and improbable happy ending are in fact very much like those of Will's comedies.
Yes, there's plenty wrong with Murderous Instincts: it's way too long; Nichola McAuliffe, while bringing terrific energy and a surprising command of Spanish to the lead role, has some seriously off-key moments; the distinguished but dull Kevin Colson once again shows that he's no George Sanders; and John Capes, as the "Homeless Man" who brings the show's very predictable denouement, has to struggle for most of it in a disguise that would keep most crows away from Worzel Gummidge. Yet the fact that a complete musicals tyro can produce an effective book and some very laudable lyrics to a really sophisticated score should not be allowed to pass unnoticed in the general chorus of sneers that you will find in this issue.
Poorly balanced
There's plenty wrong with The Woman In White, too, as readers of Issue 19 will have discovered. Because it doesn't completely work, I guess we should call it, too, a bad musical, but again it has many features which demand attention and admiration. It's just that the overall result is not what its makers intended. The biggest problem is William Dudley's obsessively busy projections, which distract enormously. In spite of costing a fortune, they give an odd impression of penny-pinching, especially for those of us in the dress circle who can't help but notice the cheap blacks which rise from Dudley's low-slung cyclorama to the Palace's high proscenium arch. The next biggest problem is its unsuccessful mixture of musical styles - something which Andrew Lloyd Webber pulled off triumphantly in Phantom. Here, he gives Michael Crawford a long comic scena which is the show's highlight, but completely out of place. And although Charlotte Jones has tried hard to simplify Wilkie Collins' complex plot, her book is confusing and poorly balanced, with an overly long introduction and a subsequent plethora of women in white, all singing their little hearts out.
Yet I hesitate about that "bad musical" label, because it has Lloyd Webber's most ravishing, melodic score since Phantom, and with a long hard look at the plot and a return to conventional sets, it could be very good indeed.
Murderous prejudice
There's just room to cover the two Dutch plays I saw on successive nights - not something you can often do in London. Cyrus Frisch's Gharb was performed in English by its Amsterdam cast. It's very short at 35 minutes, with all but the last few seconds in almost complete darkness - an attempt to explore beyond murderous prejudice and find the human beings beneath, as an Arab and a skinhead talk in an alley, the former bleeding to death from the latter's knife-wound. Although not performed in ideal conditions at Oval House, where it nonetheless attracted full houses for its short run, it was easy to see why this production, directed by the author, has won acclaim in Holland. Nor is it difficult to see why Maria Goos's glossier Cloaca has also had a good reception there, though one not repeated here (Issue 20). No, it isn't Art, and suffers from the comparison, but it's good standard West End fare without the parking problem, and despite the other Ian's doubts might just have discovered a new, well-heeled, Condé Nast audience - certainly they were lapping it up when I was there.
Ian Herbert - ian@herbertknott.com
Contents / Reviews
London |
||||
ATTEMPTS ON HER LIFE Revival of play by Martin Crimp |
Diorama |
20 Oct | 7 Nov | 1349 |
THE BALLAD OF MILAREPA New play by Mark Govier |
Lion & Unicorn |
12 Oct | 31 Oct | 1340 |
THE BATTLE OF GREEN LANES New play by Cosh Omar |
T R Stratford E15 |
20 Oct | 13 Nov | 1343 |
BEAR HUG New play by Robin French |
Royal Court Upstairs |
8 Oct | 16 Oct | 1313 |
BEAUTY New play by Eyrún Ósk Jónsdóttir |
Oval House |
15 Oct | 30 Oct | 1332 |
BENT Revival of play by Martin Sherman |
Cochrane |
18 Oct | 23 Oct | 1350 |
BRIDE OF PREJUDICE New play by Peter Dunne |
Barons Court |
5 Oct | 24 Oct | 1312 |
THE BRIDGE New play by Pedro Obaseki |
Oval House |
7 Oct | 30 Oct | 1330 |
THE CHAIR WOMEN New version of play by Werner Schwab |
Riverside |
13 Oct | 31 Oct | 1323 |
COSI Revival of play by Louis Nowra |
Bridewell |
7 Oct | 30 Oct | 1349 |
EMMA Adapted by John Cooper from the novel by Jane Austen |
Upstairs at the Gatehouse |
7 Oct | 30 Oct | 1340 |
EVIDENCE FOR THE EXISTENCE OF BORROWERS New play by Kazuko Hohki |
BAC |
15 Oct | 21 Oct | 1345 |
FISHBOWL New play by Ignacio Apolo |
Theatre 503 |
7 Oct | 24 Oct | 1324 |
GAFFER! Revised revival of play by Chris Chibnall |
Southwark Playhouse |
15 Oct | 30 Oct | 1329 |
GUANTANAMO BAYWATCH New play in repertory season of satires by Justin Butcher |
New Players |
20 Oct | 20 Nov | 1342 |
HAPPY FAMILY Revival of play by Giles Cooper |
Finborough |
7 Oct | 23 Oct | 1316 |
HERE'S WHAT I DID WITH MY BODY ONE DAY New piece by Andy Lavender and Lightwork |
Pleasance |
8 Oct | 31 Oct | 1328 |
HOW TO ACT AROUND COPS New play by Logan Brown and Matthew Benjamin |
Soho |
15 Oct | 6 Nov | 1331 |
THE LIFE OF MILAREPA New play by Mark Govier |
Lion & Unicorn |
12 Oct | 31 Oct | 1340 |
LITTLE WOMEN Revival of Emma Reeves adaptation of L M Alcott |
Duchess |
13 Oct | 1 Jan | 1325 |
MACBETH Revival of play by Shakespeare |
Arcola |
12 Oct | 6 Nov | 1319 |
MURDEROUS INSTINCTS New musical by Cinda Fox |
Savoy |
7 Oct | 16 Oct | 1309 |
OSCAR WILDE Revised revival of musical by Mike Read |
Shaw |
19 Oct | 19 Oct | 1339 |
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE Revival of Sue Pomeroy adaptation of Jane Austen novel |
Greenwich |
18 Oct | 23 Oct | 1346 |
SHOOTING SHAKESPEARE New piece by Forkbeard Fantasy |
Hackney Empire |
19 Oct | 23 Oct | 1347 |
SINK THE BELGRANO! Revival of play by Steven Berkoff |
White Bear |
20 Oct | 7 Nov | 1347 |
SINNER New piece by Liam Steel and Rob Tannion |
Laban Centre |
12 Oct | 13 Oct | 1349 |
SUMMER AGAIN New play by David Cregan |
Orange Tree |
8 Oct | 6 Nov | 1322 |
THE THIRD MAN New adaptation by Jonathan Holloway of novel by Graham Greene |
Greenwich |
8 Oct | 9 Oct | 1348 |
THE TURN OF THE SCREW Revival of Jeffrey Hatcher adaptation of Henry James story |
New End |
15 Oct | 6 Nov | 1346 |
VENUS AND ADONIS New puppet adaptation of poem by Shakespeare |
Little Angel |
18 Oct | 6 Nov | 1335 |
VOTE DIZZY!: AN EVENING WITH HIS ROYAL HIPNESS LORD BUCKLEY Tribute show by Jake Broder |
Soho |
19 Oct | 6 Nov | 1341 |
THE WEATHER New play by Clare Pollard |
Royal Court Upstairs |
8 Oct | 30 Oct | 1313 |
Regions |
||||
BUTTERFLY New piece by Quarantine |
Glasgow, Tramway |
7 Oct | 16 Oct | 1370 |
CAGED HEAT Revival of three plays by Tennessee williams |
Glasgow, Arches |
7 oct | 30 Oct | 1371 |
THE COUNTRY WIFE Revival of play by William Wycherley in a new version by Tanika Gupta |
Watford Palace |
8 Oct | 30 Oct | 1355 |
FRANKENSTEIN Adapted by Stephen Edwards from the novel by Mary Shelley |
Derby Playhouse |
7 Oct | 30 Oct | 1355 |
GHOSTS Revival of play by Henrik Ibsen |
Harrogate |
15 Oct | 6 Nov | 1359 |
HIGH SOCIETY Revival of Cole Porter musical |
Richmond/touring |
18 Oct | 23 Oct | 1357 |
JULIUS CAESAR/THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA Revival of plays by Shakespeare |
Ebbw Vale Leisure Centre |
20 Oct | 23 Oct | 1350 |
KAPUT! New play by Margaret Wilkinson |
Newcastle, Live |
8 Oct | 30 Oct | 1356 |
A LIE OF THE MIND Revival of play by Sam Shepard |
Dundee Rep |
20 Oct | 30 Oct | 1375 |
MISERY Revival of Simon Moore adaptation of novel by Stephen King |
North Edinburgh Arts Centre |
15 Oct | 15 Oct | 1374 |
THE PRICE revival of play by Arthur Miller |
Edinburgh, King's/touring |
19 Oct | 23 Oct | 1374 |
RSC New Work Festival: TYNAN, POOR BECK, MIDWINTER, HEAD/CASE, THE PILATE WORKSHOP, SEPTEMBER 10 2001 New plays by Joanna Laurens, Zinnie Harris, Ron Hutchinson etc |
Stratford-upon-Avon, various |
6 Oct | 17 Oct | 1360 |
SEASON'S GREETINGS Revival of play by Alan Ayckbourn |
Guildford, Yvonne Arnaud |
11 Oct | 16 Oct | 1357 |
SOMEONE WHO'LL WATCH OVER ME Revival of play by Frank McGuinness |
Northampton, Royal |
12 Oct | 23 Oct | 1358 |
STANDING WAVE New play by Nicola McCartney |
Glasgow, Tron |
7 Oct | 23 Oct | 1372 |
ZERO DEGREES AND DRIFTING New play by Clare Duffy, Liz Margee, Jon Spooner and Chris Thorpe |
Leeds, WYP Courtyard |
20 Oct | 23 Oct | 1359 |