Dear Evan Hansen

 Curve, Leicester

2^nd October, 2024

“Sincerely, Me”

The 2017 Tony Awards are controversial in our house. Benj Pasek and Justin Paul’s (music and lyrics) and Steven Levenson’s (book) 2015 musical stormed the ceremony that year, beating out tough competition. For us, Tim Minchin’s lyrical dexterity and subversive score for Groundhog Day, and Sankoff and Hein’s folky music and serene harmonies in Come From Away were far more worthy winners. But that’s the nature of award shows. Dear Evan Hansen, which opened its UK tour last month in a new production by Nottingham Playhouse, focuses on 21st century adolescence, the liberation vs. encumberment of social media, and the mental health pandemic sweeping the globe. With its anthemic score and heart-wrenching performances, the show will please its predominantly younger fanbase and newcomers alike.

The story – a teenager with social anxiety unintentionally goes viral when he claims to have been friends with a local boy that committed suicide – has the bones of a great drama. However, Levenson’s book doesn’t flesh out all of the central characters and some of its outré plot points are not fully resolved. The sensitive subject of teen suicide could be handled in several ways: an honest, deep and sympathetic portrayal of Connor Murphy, illuminating the true hardships of mental illness; or perhaps an intimate chamber piece looking at the aftermath and lasting effects on the family; or alternatively, we could be presented with a pitch-black social satire on the pitfalls of social media (echo chambers, #fakenews, morbid humble-bragging and self-publicising). Pasek, Paul and Levenson try to portray all three of these scenarios. It’s too much to cram into a show and the resulting lack of focus leads to an underdeveloped approach.

Evan Hansen is a solid protagonist, and in the capable hands of Ryan Kopel, he’s engaging and likeable in his relatable angsty ways, cleverly avoiding some of the annoying tics and pitfalls of Ben Platt’s performance in the 2021 film. Yet, there are several wasted opportunities for character development with the supporting characters – I’d have been fascinated to see more of the psychological reasoning behind the Murphys’ behaviour towards Evan following Connor’s death, and Levenson and co. missed a chance to draw more from the peculiar relationship between Evan and fellow loner Alana. The show’s denouement is problematically glossed over as well. One minute Evan’s secret is out and his world comes crashing down, the next we see him months later a slightly more confident young man, and the intervening seasons are wavered with the odd flippant remark. We see too little of the aftermath of this momentous revelation. It feels a cop out to present a show that addresses such serious topics and then drop the curtain just as it starts to get difficult.

I feel this muddled quality is partly down to the tonally jarring restrictiveness of Pasek and Paul’s songs. Their soaring melodies with sugary lyrics seem more fitting for TV talent shows than a sympathetic analysis of the complexities of the teenage social sphere. That’s not to say the songs aren’t commendable in their own right – they’re often extremely catchy (‘Waving through a Window’), uplifting (‘You Will Be Found’), and beautifully sung by the cast (‘So Big/So Small’). And I found that they sometimes do successfully advance character, in particular for Evan who’s so unable to articulate himself otherwise. But they detract from the dramatic clout the concept promises. Compared with the punchy music of Sater and Sheik’s Spring Awakening or the recent Donmar production of Tom Kitt and Brian Yorkey’s Next to Normal, which share similar themes with piquancy and depth, Dear Evan Hansen can feel over-polished and po-faced.

Thankfully, Adam Penford’s production is freed from some of the shackles of the original production and provides a more expressive, dynamic staging. Chiefly, Morgan Large’s design is more aesthetically pleasing than the West End production. A series of sliding screens and mirrored prosceniums reflect, refract and distort the action, and act as a canvas for Ravi Deepres’ brilliant video design: a proliferation of social media posts, hashtags and TikTok live streams. It’s both a digital space and a literal one, populated with the school corridors, bedrooms and kitchens of modern America. Large has also effectively refreshed the costumes (gone is the iconic blue striped T-shirt synonymous with the Broadway production). For all intents and purposes, Dear Evan Hansen still feels like a one man show, but the supporting cast do a fine job with the material. In particular, Lauren Conroy believably captures Zoe’s internal conflict over her antagonistic feelings for her brother, and Alice Fearn impressively evokes the vulnerabilities and pride of Evan’s single mum. Killian Thomas Lefevre (as Connor) and Tom Dickerson (as Jared, Evan’s accomplice with a devilish sense of humour) also give enjoyable performances, especially in one of the show’s much needed lighter moments, ‘Sincerely, Me’. Vocally, the cast are all on top form and it’s in show’s big numbers such as ‘Waving Through a Window’ and ‘You Will Be Found’ that all creative disciplines come together to create exhilarating moments. But a musical is more than those moments alone, and in Dear Evan Hansen it’s a shame they’re not more substantially reinforced by the rest of the material. These points aside, there’s no doubting this is a triumph for Nottingham Playhouse which will embrace younger audiences around the UK.

Dear Evan Hansen plays at Curve, Leicester until 5^th October as part of a UK tour. For further information, please visit https://www.evanontour.com/

The cast of Dear Evan Hansen. Credit: Marc Brenner

The Mountaintop

 Curve, Leicester

25^th September, 2024

“I’m just a man”

Katori Hall often uses her home of Memphis as a setting for her plays. In Hurt Village (2012), she explores multi-generational experiences of displacement and isolation in an area of drugs, poverty and crime in the city. In her Pulitzer Prize winning The Hot Wing King (2020), which finished its run at the National earlier this month, a group of men compete for the trophy in a local cooking competition. And she shares her home state with Tina Turner, which surely contributed to her book for Tina: The Tina Turner Musical which plays at Curve next March. In her 2009 Olivier Award winning The Mountaintop, the setting is the Lorraine Motel where Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. spends his last night. The night before his assassination, the play takes us inside Room 306. After a few flirtatious exchanges with the maid, King is made to confront his work, ideals, past and future in a taut 90 minutes in which Nathan Powell’s production brings out the more poetic moments in the play.

Hall’s text remains a creeping force of nature: at once mundane and extraordinary, a characteristic exemplified in both King and Camae (Justina Kehinde). The opening moments see King order coffee and a pack of his favourite Pall Malls, and take his shoes off to kick back. He repeatedly says ‘I am a man’; and that he is – father, preacher, sinner – but he is also a beacon of light, emblematic of great love and great suffering for generations to come. Thus, Hall’s creation of Camae is a perfect match for a figure as monolithic as King. Camae is an earthy woman with a taste for whisky, cigarettes and sex, yet when she unleashes a torrential hymn-like sermon worthy of the great man himself we sense that not everything is as it seems. Camae, like King, also has a greater purpose. As it becomes clear that Camae has been summoned to the motel room to deliver more than just coffee, we see Hall’s play turn from an intimate reimagining of a conversation in a motel room to something more ethereal.

Powell brings these more abstract moments to the fore. At first, we Lulu Tam’s design take great care to achieve verisimilitude. Her recreation of the motel room has the same specifications: the double beds, the plush yellow carpet, the striped chair, the round coffee table. Even the neon sign (lit by Adam King) for the motel is a near-copy of the one in Memphis. But over time, the set (with the play) opens up to invite us further into King’s internal feelings. It snows in the room, we see grass appear, and even popcorn drops from above at Camae’s demand – a nod perhaps to her more unearthly powers. In Ray Strasser-King’s portrayal of King, we see the man and not just a historical figure. We see him tire with the weight of his toils; we can see the fire that drives his life; we see the holes in his socks and his flaws; and we see his peerless oratory powers with the drawn-out vowels and musical syncopations.

There’s no doubting the power in the play’s final moments. Kehinde leads us through the years following King’s death up to the present day in front of Jack Baxter’s video design. Hall’s text gains a poetry and musicality as we see historic achievements and struggles in equality from 1968 to present day: from ‘If the glove don’t fit, you must acquit’, the AIDS epidemic and 9/11, to Condoleezza Rice and the election of Barack Obama. In 2009, seeing the newly-inaugurated Obama must have given the end of the play a huge sense of hope. Powell draws on struggles in recent British history, including the war in Iraq, a Brexit speech from Nigel Farage, and the 2024 summer riots. The motif ‘The baton passes on’ is repeated. When I last wrote about The Mountaintop in 2018, I compared that line to a line from another great American play, ‘the great work continues’ from Tony Kushner’s Angels in America. I can’t help but wonder what progress has been made since 2018, but I guess that’s the nature of the baton… always being passed on.

The Mountaintop plays at Curve, Leicester until 5^th October before visiting MAST Southampton and Theatre Royal, Stratford East. For further information, please visit https://www.curveonline.co.uk/whats-on/shows/the-mountaintop-3/

Ray Strasser-King (Dr. Martin Luther King) - Photography by Ellie Kurttz

 

Pretty Woman

 Curve, Leicester

16^th September 2024

“Everyone who comes to Hollywood needs a dream”

Garry Marshall’s 1990 movie made a star of Julia Roberts and was the highest grossing R-rated Disney film until this year. Originally a darker script, J. F. Lawton made it a lighter rom-com when picked up by Disney and Touchstone Pictures. The Disneyfication, as such, of sex workers on the boulevards of Los Angeles was box office gold. Bryan Adams’ and Jim Vallance’s musical adaptation had a short run on Broadway in 2018 before opening in London just before the pandemic. As the show nears the end of its UK tour (its last stop is in Sheffield next week), the musical, as light and bubbly as the hotel suite’s champagne, appears to be a hit with UK audiences as much as the film.

A big (huge) part of that is because the intellectual property of its origins is well-known and popular. Wealthy businessman Edward Lewis (Oliver Savile, in fine voice) picks up Vivian (Amber Davies) who’s walking the streets of Hollywood. Their meet cute is over her fascination of his posh car and his for her hourly rate. Out of loneliness or sheer curiosity, he takes her back to his suite in the Beverly Wilshire Hotel and offers her $3000 in exchange for her company for the week. Despite (perhaps because of) the foundations on which their relationship is built, this twist on the Pygmalion tale easily has the audience rooting for them as a couple. Savile and Davies’ chemistry really connected with the audience last night and even though we may have misgivings about both characters’ decisions, this is frothy rom-com territory delivered well. The problem is that the musical steers so close to the source material it’s practically chained to it – the plot, much of its dialogue and even some of Tom Rogers’ costumes are recognisable from the film. Lawton’s screenplay is the basis for the show’s book by him and Marshall. It may give audiences some reassurance that it’s simply the movie live on stage, but I would argue that it doesn’t add anything new or provide much depth to what we already know.

Other than Roy Orbison and Bill Dees’ title song, which makes an appearance at the curtain call, it’s pleasing to say the rest of the show’s score is new. Adams’ and Vallance’s music is largely pop-rock with a mixture of upbeat and ballad numbers. I particularly liked their interest in Hollywood. A character called Happy Man, who sells maps to homes of the stars, sings numbers like ‘Welcome to Hollywood’ and ‘Never Give Up on a Dream’ which provide a thread for the musical’s setting. It’s in these upbeat songs that Adams and Vallance scratch away at the idea of Hollywood being a place of ambition and dreams but also of unhappiness; a place people escape to and also want to escape. That idea is enhanced in Vivian’s ballad ‘Anywhere but Here’ (the title speaks for itself) and Edward’s song ‘Freedom’ (one of the more memorable songs). The end of Act One number ‘You’re Beautiful’ is a crowd-pleaser in which Vivian fully looks and feels worthy of her surroundings. But other than that, a lot of the other songs are sadly forgettable.

Under Jerry Mitchell’s steady direction, the show has excellent production values. David Rockwell’s design captures the two sides of Hollywood: one with the fire escapes and migraine-inducing neon with an underlying grubbiness, the other the flowing drapes and neo-Renaissance frills of the hotels, theatres and boutiques, all of it framed by starlit palm trees. Also a nice surprise is Ore Oduba in a sort of everyman role as Happy Man, hotel manager, store manager and even conductor, connecting the dots in this dotty town. His performance(s) has enough distinguishing features to separate his various characters, his singing and dancing are solid, and he’s entertaining without being cloying. The role has been made into a vehicle for his talents to a winning effect.

I can see why the show was snubbed at the Tonys and Oliviers but it delivers what it promises. In Savile and Davies’ star performances in particular, Pretty Woman is a heart-warming musical rom-com which steers away from the darkness.

Pretty Woman plays at Curve Leicester until 21^st September as part of its UK tour. For further information please visit https://uk.prettywomanthemusical.com/

The company of Pretty Woman. Credit: Marc Brenner

An Officer and a Gentleman

 Curve, Leicester

12^th August, 2024

“Everybody live for the music-go-round”

A review of Taylor Hackford’s 1982 movie said that An Officer and a Gentleman ‘relies on the strength of [its] stereotypes to build a conventional but hugely compelling drama’. This musical adaptation directed by Nikolai Foster, first seen at Curve in 2018, makes no apologies for embracing the melodrama of the movie. There’s been a string of 80s and 90s screen-to-stage adaptations in recent years. Like Back to the Future, Mrs Doubtfire and Pretty Woman (which plays at Curve next month), An Officer and a Gentleman relies on the brand recognition of the film to draw in the audience. Add a back catalogue of (mostly) 80s hits and Foster’s usual polish, and you’ve got an air-punching, feel-good hit.

 

On entering the auditorium, an audio montage depicts 1980s pop culture: MTV, commercials, news clips, jingles. But it was also a decade of the AIDS crisis, Reaganomics, and a decline in social mobility. This creates a political backdrop for the caravan parks, cheap motels, sleazy bars and paper mills of Pensacola, Florida. It is here where the US naval aviation training facility offers a last chance saloon to its cadets and for the female workers of a nearby cardboard box factory who see the pilots as their ticket out of there. It's a strong frame for a rom com, and the grit and the colour of the story is reflected in Michael Taylor’s set: metal staircases, chain fences and bright neon signs. Despite these two different settings, one full of promise and the other a dead-end job, the protagonists all want something more out of life. From difficult upbringings to ‘trailer trash’, they toil all day and play all night.

 

Douglas Day Stewart’s (original screenplay) and Sharleen Cooper Cohen’s book sometimes draws the characters too boldly but this perhaps only enhances the cult classic melodrama status of it. And it also occasionally feels at odds with the overall feel, wanting to be grittier that the show wants it to be. Jukebox musicals offer a sugar rush of recognition as we hear pop and rock classics. Foster gives the audience what they want with the songs, resulting in several of moments of musical ecstasy. One of these comes in the form of the act two karaoke opener ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’, where Ben Cracknell’s lighting and Tom Marhsall’s sound surge with the energy on stage. George Dyer’s orchestrations impressively translate the songs to the stage. In particular, ‘Up Where We Belong’ concentrates its melody to leitmotifs that punctuate and underscore the show, leading to the triumphantly uplifting final scene.

 

Strong performances bolster the production further, thanks to a cast in fine voice and vigour. Luke Baker as Zack Mayo leads the show with a rough-edged confidence and a fantastic tenor rock timbre that make his solo numbers soar, while Georgia Lennon is a delectable blend of vulnerability, sass and heart as love interest, Paula. Paul French and Sinead Long are eye-catching and have a great chemistry as Zack and Paula’s friends Sid and Lynette respectively. Their performances elevate what could be a run-of-the-mill romantic sub-plot into an arc every bit as enjoyable (yet tragic) as the main story. Special mention must also go to Chris Breistein, stepping in as Gunnery Sergeant Emil Foley at this performance. His command of the impossible to please taskmaster is stellar. 

 

An Officer and a Gentleman was one of the first shows that really cemented Curve as a powerhouse producer of commercial musicals. This remains the case in an unabashed production which embraces the frivolity of the form.

 

An Officer and a Gentleman plays at Curve, Leicester until 17^th August as part of a UK tour. For further information please visit https://www.curveonline.co.uk/whats-on/shows/an-officer-and-a-gentleman/

 

Georgia Lennon and Luke Baker in An Officer and a Gentleman. Credit: Marc Brenner

101 Dalmatians

 Curve, Leicester

23^rd July, 2024

“I’m an animal lover”

Disney’s 1961 animated film and the 1996 live action film adaptation of 101 Dalmatians were two of my favourites as a child. Anthropomorphic puppies and a genuinely terrifying villain amongst a chocolate box English setting made me go back to them time and time again. Dodie Smith’s 1956 novel has now been adapted into a musical by Douglas Hodge (Music & Lyrics) and Johnny McKnight (Book), itself adapted from Zinnie Harris’ stage play. First performed at the Open Air Theatre in 2022, the musical has been reimagined for a UK tour in a highly-spirited production directed by Bill Buckhurst. The puppies are still anthropomorphic (uncannily so), the setting is still cosy, and the villain is… well, maybe not genuinely terrifying but suitably camp.

It gets off to a promising start. After being abandoned, Dalmatian Pongo (Benedict Hastings at this performance) is taken to a dogs’ home where he’s adopted by employee Danielle (Jessie Elland, perfectly pitched). ‘Take Me Home’ is a fun number which embraces the fun of talking (and singing!) dogs and establishes their need for a pet human. Like the films, we see a parade of humans paired off with their canine counterparts: a chic fashionista with a poodle, an elderly widow with an older dog, and a tall biker paired with a yappy terrier. Later, on a walk in the park, there’s an excellent meet cute between Danielle and aspiring fashion designer Tom (Samuel Thomas) and his dog Perdi (Emma Thornett) involving bum sniffing and tangled leads.

 

Hodge’s music and lyrics are impressive in this opening section. He establishes setting, character and emotion in songs which appeal to a family audience. ‘Bury that Bone’, set in a cosy family living room, features some yearning melodies and nicely observed lyrics about the familial bond between humans and their furry friends. One of the best songs, reprised at the end, is ‘One Added Extra’ where the 15 puppies are born. But overall, the score is pleasant although not terribly memorable. Some don’t find their place or are extraneous like ‘The Pub Song’ which just helps to establish setting but don’t really move things along.

Dognapping capers soon ensue and it’s here that the show occasionally gets a bit repetitive. Once both couples (human and canine) have settled down, Tom is pressed upon by the infamous designer Cruella de Vil to design a coat using the fur of the dalmatians’ puppies. Ultimately, it’s a classic children’s story of good triumphing over evil. An entertaining sequence in act two sees the puppies try to escape Cruella’s lair with the help of a cat and other dogs nearby. The puppets have been impressively designed and directed by Jimmy Grimes. It’s interesting seeing a show where the puppets talk and are funny. Having worked as Associate Puppet Director on War Horse, Grimes instils a sense of verisimilitude in the puppets through the actors which operate them, often achieving a different gait for the various breeds. However, some are more simple hand puppets with a sense of fun and creativity which appeals to a younger audience. The slinky body movements for the cat are also brilliant. David Woodhead’s design is rather appealing. Its colourful set pieces and old-fashioned theatricality are charming and give a nod to the 1950s setting of the novel. Although, I found some of the more modern elements such as mobile phones and Crocs incongruous to the overall aesthetic.

Faye Tozer makes for an entertaining villain as Cruella (she’s sharing the role with Kym Marsh and, just announced, Kerry Ellis). Her performance has the crazed eyes and pointed gestures of Glenn Close’s performance as well as a primness which Tozer brings to the role. McKnight’s book captures her caustic wit and sarcastic jibes reminiscent of another fictional fashion icon, Miranda Priestly from The Devil Wears Prada. But, for me, her relationship with henchmen Casper and Jasper (committedly played by Charles Brunton and Danny Hendrix) veers too much into pantomime. And despite her excellent vocals, her songs like ‘Für Fur’ and ‘I Can Smell Puppy’ aren’t as memorable as her opening number, the jazzy ‘Animal Lover’.

Despite its flaws, it’s not often you see a new musical in a mid-scale touring production, especially one which appeals to young families, so kudos to the producers. There’s much to admire here and the appearance of a cute puppy at the end will give you puppy eyes for 101 Dalmatians.

101 Dalmatians plays at Curve, Leicester until 27^th July as part of a UK tour. For further information, please visit https://101dalmatians.co.uk/

Emma Thornett, Samuel Thomas, Jessie Elland and Linford Johnson in 101 Dalmatians. Credit: Johan Persson

Everybody’s Talking About Jamie

 Curve, Leicester

15^th July, 2024

‘Out of the darkness into the spotlight’

Who knew Sheffield held such a wealth of musical theatre inspiration? Earlier this year we saw the stunning Standing at the Sky’s Edge, an ode to the city’s architectural and social history. But before that Olivier Award-winning show took the West End by storm, Tom McCrae, Dan Gillespie Sells and Jonathan Butterell’s heart-warming Everybody’s Talking About Jamie paved the way for Sheffield-based musicals. Clocking up over 3 years in the West End and now on its second sell-out national tour, Jamie has all the rough and ready wit and charm that cements it as a modern British classic.

The story is simple but effective. Sixteen year old Jamie New (Ivano Turco) longs to be a drag queen, an ambition he keeps secret from his classmates and his waspish teacher, who continually tells him to ‘keep it real’ while recommending that he pursue a ‘normal’ career such as becoming a fork-lift driver or prison guard. With the help of his selfless mum, studious best friend and a local veteran drag queen, Jamie fulfils his dreams, though not without hitting a few snags along the way.

While the musical’s themes of acceptance and embracing individuality are universal, it’s a quintessentially British show. Jamie’s glamourous fantasies are juxtaposed with the kitchen-sink reality of life in a working-class community, and the relationship between Jamie and Margaret is a touching and grounded representation of single-parent families. McCrae’s amusing yet low-key plot, coupled with Butterell’s simple direction, is one of the show’s selling points, as the emphasis is placed on small, everyday situations, based in a relatable environment. Jamie isn’t aiming for fame and fortune, he isn’t campaigning on a global scale, his goal and driving passion is his determination to wear a dress to his school prom. The scale is small, but the stakes are high and highly personal, making the final triumph that much sweeter. Hopefully every young person watching that has ever felt different, or had to hide their true self can identify with Jamie and find inspiration from his story.

Gillespie Sells’ music is catchy without being cloying, offering a mix of poppy bangers such as the title song, ‘Work of Art’ and ‘And You Don’t Even Know It’, interspersed with sweetly contemplative numbers like ‘The Wall in My Head’ and ‘It Means Beautiful’. Margaret’s Act 2 showstopper ‘My Boy’ is a tear-jerking and heart-warming ode to a mother’s unconditional love for her child, delivered with powerful emotion by Rebecca McKinnis. The domestic setting occasionally gives way to glorious flights of theatrical fancy, courtesy of the drag performers at the local Legs Eleven club. A particular highlight is the camp noir pastiche number ‘The Legend of Loco Chanel’, as Kevin Clifton’s Hugo has a blast recounting his alter-ego’s misadventures of old. Following his breakout success in Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Cinderella, Turco makes a highly lovable Jamie.  He’s sassy without ever coming across as obnoxious, while also conveying Jamie’s vulnerability and self-doubt in a beautifully candid way.

Neither cynical nor saccharine, I have no doubt that Everybody’s Talking About Jamie will continue to delight audiences for years to come, and has hopefully paved the way for more home-grown musicals that celebrate the unapologetic joy of individualism within British culture. This week saw the announcement that Robert Hastie has been appointed as the new Deputy Artistic Director of the National Theatre. As Artistic Director of Sheffield Theatres, he’s overseen productions like Life of Pi, Rock/ Paper/ Scissors, and Jamie, all of which points to much promise for his time at the NT.

Everybody’s Talking About Jamie plays at Curve, Leicester until 20^th July as part of its UK tour. For full tour details please visit: https://everybodystalkingaboutjamie.co.uk/

Ivano Turco (Jamie New) and Talia Palamathanan (Pritti) in Everybody's Talking About Jamie. Credit: Matt Crockett

A Chorus Line

 

Curve, Leicester

Monday 8^th July, 2024

 

‘I really need this job…’

In recent years Curve have really hit their stride producing big shows that have gone on to have an extensive life on the touring circuit and in the West End. An Officer and a Gentleman is returning to the stage later this year, The Wizard of Oz had a successful run at the London Palladium and is now touring the UK, and Curve’s 2016 production of Grease has become a mainstay of the West End summer schedules in recent years. Now their latest return offering, a UK tour of Michael Bennett’s Pulitzer Prize-winning A Chorus Line, is back and in even better shape than before.

The question that always arises with productions of A Chorus Line is, inevitably, ‘Is the stage big enough to hold the eponymous ‘line’?’. This is never an issue for Curve, as the vast stage frames the ensemble beautifully, feeling neither cramped nor sparse. One could say this is the perfect venue. Utilising the theatre’s technical prowess to optimum effect, Howard Hudson’s lighting is truly spectacular, bringing the necessary scenic pizzazz Grace Smart’s minimal set. The technical aspects of Nikolai Foster’s production remain a big selling point. For example, the use of a handheld camera throughout is a nice touch – despite a small hiccup the night we attended. These projections provide a deeper insight into the emotional nuances of the normally ‘faceless’ ensemble figures and create an intimacy that could otherwise be lost in such a huge space. While ‘live-stream’ theatre seems to be in vogue right now, from Jamie Lloyd’s Sunset Boulevard and Romeo and Juliet, to Curve’s own Evita, so you could say that the use of cameras in the initial 2021 run proves A Chorus Line to be somewhat of a theatrical trend-setter!

Yet this is not merely a technical gimmick: Foster uses the close-ups to home in on the thematic relevancies of Marvin Hamlisch and Edward Kleban’s 1975 musical, relating them to a new, contemporary audience. The often invasive, tight camera angles enhance the sense that Foster’s production sees the musical almost as a prototype for the talent shows that have ruled pop-culture for the past couple of decades. Director Zach’s (Adam Cooper) continual insistence that the dancers tell him the ‘truth’ and dig down to unleash their feelings is reminiscent of the exploitative nature of Simon Cowell and co.’s entertainment tv shows; shoving a camera lens into the faces of emotional hopefuls in an attempt to manufacture sympathy.

When we first saw this classic a few years ago it was apparent why those in the industry hold the piece in such high regard. After a second viewing I’m still in the mind that a weakness to James Kirkwood Jr. and Nicolas Dante’s book is that it can be a little navel-gazing. I prefer the subtler poignancy and psychological depth of Sondheim’s Follies as an insight into the workings of the showbiz ensemble. However, the company’s dedicated characterisation work and Foster’s clean direction ensures each auditionee is memorable.

For me, while I can’t get fully on board with some of the self-indulgent sentimentalism, where A Chorus Line really excels is in the comedic moments. I loved the self-deprecating nature of numbers like ‘Sing!’ and ‘Dance: Ten; Looks: Three’. Similarly, ‘Hello Twelve, Hello Thirteen, Hello Love’, which recounts episodes of the excruciating embarrassment we all experience as teenagers, and the yearning feeling of those in-between years betwixt childhood and adulthood, strikes a wonderful balance between being very funny and capturing the pathos of the loss of innocence. This number is also a fine example of how the piece is a true showcase for the ensemble. Every cast member gets their moment in the spotlight. The final grand number is a fabulous juxtaposition, leaving the audience torn between being awe-struck by the gold-clad spectacle and mourning the loss of the individuality of the characters we’ve spent the last couple of hours getting to know.

Foster and co. have made small tweaks which make this revived production a step up from its previous incarnation – money has obviously been spent on upgrading the wigs, and thankfully the tin foil backdrop has been scrapped from ‘The Music and the Mirror’ in favour of a more natural aesthetic. The production is topped off by Ellen Kane’s sublime choreography. The dance routines are the kind that leave those who can dance wanting to learn the numbers, and those who can’t dance (eg. me!) wishing they could. In all, A Chorus Line is a great example of triple threat theatre. The stamina of those involved in the show is outstanding and the affection the cast and creatives have for it is palpable.

A Chorus Line plays at Curve, Leicester until 13^th July 2024.

For full tour details please visit https://www.achoruslinetour.com/#booktickets

 

The cast of A Chorus Line. Credit: Marc Brenner