Juke Box Jury

All Shook Up, Showbiz Queenstown
Memorial Hall, Queenstown
19 - 28 May, 2011

Does the world of entertainment really need another juke box musical, or have they become a dime a dozen? Your response to that question will determine your reaction to Showbiz Queenstown’s latest offering; All Shook Up.

Their marketing trumpeted, ‘The story’s all new; the songs are all Elvis’, which is wrong on both counts. The story is pretty much all Shakespeare – a haphazard mix of the more basic elements of Twelfth Night and As You Like It. Girl (Natalie) likes boy (Chad) but he likes someone (Miss Sandra) else so she dresses as boy to get his attention and he falls for her/him resulting in much confusion and hilarity. Subplots involve misdirected letters (in this case a Shakespearean sonnet), forbidden love, and discovering love that was beneath your nose the whole time. And it’s all set in 1950s bubblegum, small-town, Middle America without the racial tension; it really is all white here.

Elvis wrote very few of his own songs – in fact out of the 26 songs in the show, he only wrote two; Heartbreak Hotel and Don’t Be Cruel. Although they were all popularised by him, the fact that they were penned by others works in his favour. Musical arrangements by Stephen Oremus have transferred the numbers into something new and different, from the show-stopping Can’t Help Falling in Love in fabulous four-part harmony, to the spectacular Devil in Disguise as Mayor Matilda Hyde (Jo Blick) admonishes the hip swivelling roustabout Chad (James Stephenson) in a rocking country/gospel number, complete with angelic host and restrained demons.

Emily Burns as Natalie Haller (the female mechanic who attempts to fix Chad’s broken motorbike and then become his side-kick; trying to sidle her way into his affections) has a great vocal range, and her rendition of Love Me Tender in her deeper ‘male’ register is excellent. The singing is of a uniformly superb standard, and Julie Anne Molloy as Sylvia delivers the stand-out vocal performance with There’s Always Me, which blends emotion and technique to perfection.

A huge plaudit must go to the band (under the musical direction of Cheryl Collie), which performs on stage hidden behind a curtain for most of the show, and keeps the tempo cracking along. As is typical of this style of musical, the songs do nothing to further the action but they are entertaining – a couple behind me were playing ‘guess the song’, which with the standard of dialogue really wasn’t hard. At times the show drags a little as the songs are shoehorned into the script and, although the choreography (Tiffany Menzies) is excellent, the dancing is often lacklustre. Some of the best physicality came from Jim Haller (Chris MacKenzie) who displays some great wobbly legs and bad jelly shaking, as Chad teaches him to dance in yet another of the Footloose moments.

The minimalist nature of the set worked well, allowing for some interpretative staging. The moving statues were eye-catching (makeup by Ella Chaney), while the mimed bus in It’s Now or Never, and the Mayor’s ‘car on roller-skates’ (‘driven’ by the comically taciturn Sheriff Earl – Paul Halsted) drew appreciative applause from audience. The space (and even bare stage at times) should afford the characters room to develop, but there is nowhere for them to go.

Nowhere is this more evident than the story of Dean (Samuel Farr) and Lorraine (Nicole Graham). The role of the buttoned-up conformist aching to break free is perfect for the meerkat-like Sam, and Lorraine has a great and powerful voice with a hint of country grunt, but the story under-sells their talents. Half-way through Act One they have already paired up to the disapproval of their parents, and that’s pretty much it.

In the original, Lorraine is African-American, which adds a whole new dimension to the Mayor’s reluctance for her son, Dean, to form a mixed race relationship – remember the Civil Rights Act wasn’t passed for another ten years. She is more than just a snob, as she is portrayed here; she has serious issues to consider. When Lorraine, Dean and Chad sing If I Can Dream (with lyrics such as 'If I can dream of a better land, where all my brothers walk hand in hand, tell me why oh why oh why can't my dream come true?') the Martin Luther King echoes would be deafening. 

The racial aspect also tempers Jim's feeling for her mother, Sylvia - he has so far overlooked her for romance although he is happy enough with friendship. Director Bryan Aitken has had to work around this (presumably due to the performers who presented at auditions) which he does very smoothly, although the absence of this tension leaves the musical a touch flat.

The character of Chad is equally one dimensional. He rides into town to touch the juke box (positioned on the side of the stage throughout) to make it play, and he infects the town with music and passion. And then what? James Stephenson struggles with the role; trying to make a shallow, image-obsessed philistine seem appealing to a gaggle of women is no mean feat, and he over-uses hand gestures to declare emphasis. He finds some subtlety with the duet You’ve Got to Follow That Dream; sung with Natalie, this is touching and inspiring duet on the first night, but it turned into a Showbiz Idol sing-off later in the season.

His rival, Dennis (Caleb Dawson-Swale) has delightful timing when he focuses, and his geeky, twitching nervousness belies a soulful centre. Although vocally a little weak, he proves his acting ability with a completely different role from last year’s (equally competent) the Artful Dodger in Oliver! Miss Sandra (Caroline Pegna) delivers the songs that suit her range well (One Night With You and Hound Dog do; Let Yourself Go patently doesn’t). She has the best line of the show – “You marry your cousins don’t you?” – and is the only character other than Natalie who is permitted any development. Her conversion to prim museum curator to flirtatious seductress is obvious but well executed.

One further bouquet must go to Emma Newell who designed the programme to look like a record (half of the cast have probably never seen one before). This sets the scene before the first chord is strummed. It’s a fun, bright, rollicking, toe-tapping, dispensable, candy-floss show; unimaginative and not particularly demanding for actors and viewers alike, although the singing can be challenging. It features a predominantly young cast and will probably be a favourite among high schools. It’s child’s play and boy, do they have fun at play-time!

Oliver! It's a fine show

After the glut of (admittedly well-deserved) self congratulation that surrounded last year’s bombastic production of Les Misérables, Showbiz Queenstown have triumphed with their bright and breezy interpretation of Oliver!

Director Stephen Robertson is a stickler for detail, which is evident in the overall look of the show. Costumes, set and lighting combine to create the effect of a Bruegel painting in which splashes of colour illuminate a highly-styled background. Colourful silk handkerchiefs are judiciously used for everything from set-dressing, dancing props and the pickpocket scene.

The music (under the direction of Cheryl Collie) is befittingly bold as brass. It is a delight to hear the bassoon, although the French horn occasionally drowns the singers and there are a few technical issues with the balance of sound. Choreography is handled expertly (also by Stephen Robertson) with strong moves that engage the children and fill the stage. Both the workhouse 'boys' and Fagin's gang are charmingly proficient.

The adult company assist in the slick scene changes that allow few pauses for breath, and their ensemble numbers are vibrant highlights. Who Will Buy can be a difficult and messy number but this is a huge success – the soloists add a piquant edge to the forthright professionalism of the morning’s traders. Often standing at convergent angles and with sweeping side-to-side movements familiar from the Ascot Gavotte, the company bring the bright shiny morning bustlingly to life.

The Artful Dodger (Caleb Dawson-Swale) is full of nervous energy and rapid gestures like an out-of-control tic-tac bookie – I would definitely want to be in his gang. Energy bursts off the stage as he leads the company in the remarkable Consider Yourself, enhancing the Wurlitzer fairground attraction atmosphere. The dance itself is three parts Lambeth Walk to two parts Macarena and has everyone in the audience tapping their feet. The reprise also makes a fantastic ending, my only quibble being that this should come after the bows, leaving an overwhelming impression of music and company rather than figures shuffling off the stage in the half-light.

Most satisfying of all in this production are the solid outbreaks of acting, seldom seen in amateur musicals. Fagin (Marty McLay) praises Nancy’s acting but he is obviously the consummate performer here, always trying to ‘win friends and influence people’ by whatever means possible. Desperate to please or persuade, he acts many roles with rolling eyes and waggling fingers but never crosses the line into pantomime.

McLay eschews the stereotypes to make his Fagin uniquely human. He uses the street urchins for private gain, unconcerned with their welfare, and his attitude to Nancy is despicable. He is pleasant when he can afford to be but ultimately selfish and greedy, caring for no one but himself; John Key would be so proud.

Nancy (Fiona Stephenson) is also excellent. She brings extra vigour and authenticity, a natural compassion for the children, and a sense of fun. Earthy and gruff, she sings guttural songs which suit her gutter origins and has natural interjections, although some are a little modern (‘Listen up?’).

The compact stage works in the show’s favour making the action up close and personal. Empathy with the characters is encouraged so there is an intimacy often absent from musical theatre. When Nancy briefly regrets her errant lifestyle ‘Not for me the happy home, happy husband, happy wife’ it is profoundly touching.

There is no honour among these thieves; they may play games and be jovial but they won’t stand up for each other. A nice subplot hints at Dodger’s affection for Nancy, but he won’t take on Bill Sikes (a brutish and menacing David Oakley). They are all afraid of being alone and friendless – Fagin keeps a caged bird for company, and Dodger admits with a touch of sadness, that he “ain’t got no ‘hintimate’ friends.”

Oliver (Angus Reid) avoids the mawkish sentiment that mars many orphan Olivers, as he is presented with a succession of patently unsuitable parent substitutes. At the workhouse he suffers the wonderfully manipulative Widow Corney (Kathleen Brentwood) and the suitably pompous and disturbingly lecherous Mr Bumble (Mark Ferguson).

After causing a disturbance (committing the heinous crime of asking for more gruel) he is sold to the Sowerberrys (Nick Hughes and Amy Taylor) with their sneering disdain and unfoundedly high opinion of themselves. Their duet, That’s Your Funeral, cuts and thrusts with barbed comments, making Mr Bumble’s well delivered, ‘I don’t think this song is funny’ all the more entertaining.

Oliver fits most suitably with Mr Brownlow (David John) and Mrs Bedwin (Jane Robertson whose calm understanding contrasts delightfully with Nancy’s fiercer instincts). The cameo roles are all generally strong, although a couple of the males are teetering on the cusp of caricature – if they plunge over that precipice as the season persists it will be to the detriment of the show.

The ending is always problematic in this musical as all the loose ends are hastily tied up and the implausible explanations offered, but the cheeky Cockney character (and yes, it does help if you have the accent) shines through. Whereas some productions are epic and grandiose, this one is cheerfully engaging – consider yourself well in, indeed.

Oliver! overload

I seem to be suffering from Oliver! overload. In what seems like a dreadfully short space of months I’ve seen it performed at Porirua and Alexandra. The Auckland Theatre Company are currently in the throes of the musical and I have just heard that my local musical society (Showbiz Queenstown) have lined it up to be next on their programme. Please God, don’t let any of my friends play the lead role of Nancy (as they did in the last two productions I saw) or I shall have to go and see it again.

It’s not that it’s bad (it can actually be pretty good), but it is certainly problematic. These are the main problems as I see them:

· The staging – there are many different scenes and settings. They range from the workhouse and the undertaker’s parlour, to the thieves’ kitchen and public house, and out into the street by way of an upper-class family home. That’s a lot to contend with.

There are some intimate scenes and some large rousing numbers. Do you have the Company at the forefront of the stage where they can dance, confining the more personal moments to the sides or the back of the stage with connotations of privacy? This is all well and good but can lose the dramatic impact if the cast are too far away from the audience.

For example the flirtation between Mr Bumble and the Widow Corney is amusing and effective if played up-close, but dull and dreary if positioned towards the back of the stage. Similarly, Nancy’s altercation with Bill can get lost if not sufficiently highlighted, and yet it is a pivotal moment of the production.

An apron extending past the proscenium arch might be a successful way to deal with this, but is potentially cumbersome and costly in many a town hall with limited space and resources. Sliding flats have similar benefits and drawbacks. Having forked out a small fortune on a revolve, Showbiz Queenstown would be mad not to utilise it to solve this predicament.

· The lighting – I once read a Guardian guide to critic-speak in which the term ‘crepuscular lighting’ was translated to mean ‘I couldn’t see a thing’. This is a problem. Yes, Dickensian London was dark and dingy – especially in the alleyways and orphanages – but the stage doesn’t have to be.

It’s necessary to convey the atmosphere while still being able to see the characters. In one performance, Nancy walked from side to side of the stage through a big black hole. I only knew she was there because she was singing at the time. If you combine the ‘can’t see’ factor with the ‘can’t hear’ factor mentioned above, you have two major difficulties that would plague any musical.

· The leads – the problem with many amateur musical societies (which most are) is that they tend to cast singers who can dance, and if they can act a bit that’s a bonus. Almost more than any other musical (with the possible exception of My Fair Lady), this show demands actors who can sing, and if they can’t dance, find them something else to do on stage. This is why, among local shows, I would always go and see whatever Geoff Turkington directs.

Apparently in one of the shows, there was a 16-year old girl recalled for the part Nancy. I’m sure she looked pretty and sang nicely, but if you have a schoolgirl playing the part of the archetypal ‘tart with a heart’ then it makes all her customers and associates appear twisted and perverted in a way that isn’t going to do your show any favours.

Incidentally, both of the Nancy’s I saw were excellent – both were past 30 and had an understanding of character that made them react well with children and abusive lovers alike.

Fagin needs to be strong and convincing. Whether you decide to play him as callous or misguided is up to the director, but you have to have conviction and consistency. I’ve seen elements of comedy, cruelty, paternalism and paedophilia in this role. That’s a lot to ask from an actor. Alec Guinness, Timothy Spall and Ben Kingsley, among others have answered the call. Just because it is a musical, there is no need to skimp on the acting talent – Rowan Atkinson is receiving plaudits for his role in the latest Drury Lane revival.

· The cameos – this is a musical that proves the adage about there being no small parts... Mr and Mrs Sowerberry, the funeral directors, are essential to establish the mood in the third scene before they disappear from the story, and Mr Brownlow, who also only turns up in the second half has a tough task to be sympathetic but not saccharine.

Bill Sykes doesn’t appear at all in the first act, and only a couple of times in the second – yet his brooding and menacing presence overshadows everything. With or without his dog, when I first read the book, this man gave me nightmares. One of Dickens’ great talents as an author that has kept him relevant throughout the ages is his brilliant creation of ‘minor’ characters. To ignore that in any version of his work is heretical.

· The children – I may have mentioned my feelings about children on stage before. This show has a lot of them. Unless they are excellent actors with proven ability, the advice would be: give them something to do and keep it strong but simple. Otherwise you get a heap of kids shuffling about on the stage looking at their feet and murmuring – their parents will find it adorable but no one else will.

Oliver is not a great character – he is a pawn in everyone else’s game and after he asks (for some reason frequently with a lisp), ‘Please sir, can I have some more?’, he doesn’t actually do a lot. He gets to sing the mawkishly manipulative Where is Love? and is then thankfully subsumed by Fagin’s gang of ragamuffins. He is possibly the one character who needs to look cute.

I fell in love with the Artful Dodger as a child. He gets all the best lines and songs and swaggers with an early eighteen-hundred cockney cockiness. Not a modern ‘what’s up bro’ or a down with the homies attitude; this could ruin his character. He has to know what it is to be in context, and act accordingly. Not many kids can do this and it can threaten the credibility of the entire production.

· The company numbers – there are some great songs in this show for the chorus. Whatever you think of Food, Glorious Food, Consider Yourself, It’s a Fine Life, and Who Will Buy?, you know the songs. Lionel Bart wrote some catchy numbers and there are plenty of sing-along tunes and some decent harmonies. The question is what to do with the people on stage? If they stand about singing there is no visual impact and if they are too busy with movement they will invariably drop their voices.

Again, a large stage with additional areas or moving furniture could help here, along with an understanding of the context. Oom Pah Pah can be the world’s worst dirge or the supreme social commentary depending on the staging. A look at a Hogarth painting suggests its true potential. Better yet, a read of the pub scene in the original book will reveal that it’s not all beer and skittles.

· The story – Dickens is renowned for his convoluted plots with outrageous coincidences that make everything alright in the end. If you haven’t read Oliver Twist you may well ask, as my friend did when we saw the musical production, ‘Who the hell is that woman?’ Oliver’s mother, Agnes, died in childbirth while at the workhouse and his father is mysteriously absent.

There is a locket, a picture, a resemblance and a dying secret, all of which is explained in the novel and glossed over in the musical. Basically, it makes very little sense – you just have to hope that no one really cares. But in the way that they are diverted by the spectacle of the show and the strength of the characterisation, not in the way of the teenager in the seats behind us who tried to persuade her mother to leave at the intervel because, 'this is so boring!'

· The social conscience – Another of Dickens’ great talents was his mastery of social commentary. He wrote with grim realism and merciless satire of the effects of Industrialism on nineteenth century England. He criticised the Poor Laws and the capitalist ethic which led to greed and debauchery and extreme poverty and crime. A pure heart was the only way to overcome this, with weapons of charity and love.

If the show emphasises the ‘knees up Mother Brown’ motif to the detriment of the dark side of Dickensian London then it simply hasn’t done its job. Musicals aren't always light entertainment - some pack a punch. If done correctly, this can be a knock-out. However, to continue the boxing metaphor, if you're not even going to try and address the social issues, you might as well just throw in the towel.

Not so miserable at all

Showbiz Queenstown’s production of Les Misérables at Queenstown Memorial Hall has sold out and has been receiving rave reviews and standing ovations. People are saying it’s better than Broadway, which proves to me that people either have very selective memories, or they’ve never seen a show on Broadway. This is not to say that it’s not very good, because it is, but I’ve seen the show in London and Manchester, and this version is very different from that of the professionals.

Firstly, let’s discuss Simon Green as Valjean. He is excellent. I have just realised I am a bit of a Simon Green groupie having seen him all around the country from Auckland (Evita) to Invercargill (Les Mis again, this time as Enjolras) via Christchurch (Rush!), and this is his best performance. His singing is as perfect as I have come to expect, but he actually acts as well. I felt his torment and, as he ages, his physicality alters convincingly as well as his voice and mannerisms so that I totally believe in him.

Usually with this musical I’m not interested in Valjean’s personal battle with Javert, or the love story with Marius and Cosette, paying more attention to the Thénardiers and the battle scenes led by Enjolras. This time the stags locking antlers was entirely intriguing.

Marty McLay in the role of Javert overcomes an unfortunate but necessary piece of miscasting. I believe he was originally cast as Thénardier but the original Javert pulled out, causing an exigent reshuffle of the remaining males. He may struggle with some of the lower notes, but what he lacks in vocal depth he more than makes up for with physical presence and is strong and imposing in his bearing.

I’m still not interested in the love-story, but that’s a plot issue. It’s ridiculous and implausible that two people can fall so passionately and devotedly in love with a single glance. Cosette (Emily Burns) hits the high notes prettily, looks good in a frock (plaudits to wardrobe manager Jan Maxwell), and her duets with Marius, particularly ‘A Heart Full of Love’, are charming. Marcus Figueroa is a fantastic find and plays embodies the part of the impressionable Marius beautifully. His ‘Empty Chairs at Empty Tables’ is truly moving.

The Thénardiers often threaten to steal the show and they nearly do so here as Marty Newell and Kathleen Brentwood work brilliantly together. They bring an edge to their characters elevating them above the merely comic, which is an easy trap to fall into. Although there are plenty of scenes in which they play for laughs (Kathleen dancing by herself is especially memorable), they retain a sense of despicable greed and sly self-interest, demonstrating their commitment to Victor Hugo’s original message about the dark side to what John Key euphemistically calls the underclass.

Rachael Gerard as Fantine is as striking as ever, and her voice has a depth and richness to counterpoint Simon’s in ‘Come to Me’. She sings both this and the incredible ‘I Dreamed a Dream’ while seated, which is a challenge she meets with aplomb and, at the risk of sounding like a Pop Idol judge, she makes them her own.

Rachael has sensitivity and strength in spades, but ironically, this very strength is problematic. I don’t for one second believe she is vulnerable and when the factory girls turn on her, I fear more for their safety than hers – she looks as though she could take them all on with one hand tied behind her back and knock them all into the foreman’s cocked hat. Incidentally, every woman does a running-from-side-to-side movement until pushed by a male character to collapse in a kerfuffle of skirts and petticoats. This may have visual impact the first time but soon grows tedious.

So too does Eponine’s (Alice Fraser) folded arms. It’s a gesture I hate to see on stage. Once or twice indicates defiance or resistance – used constantly it implies the actor doesn’t know what to do with their hands. Alice sings like an angel (albeit with an off-putting American accent) and she has pathos and angst to (literally) die for. She is at her best in ‘A Little Fall of Rain’ – while she is lying cradled in Marius’ arms we can concentrate on her beatific voice and not be distracted by her awkward gestures.

And so to the singing children. I must admit I’m not a fan in any production – ever. I have no maternal instincts whatsoever (except for cats and certain Liverpool players) and so it is a huge compliment to say that little Cosette (I’m not sure which one I saw) is not too annoying and her ‘Castle on a Clouds’ melts away without any lingering cringe. Angus Reid (who plays Gavoche) will have a bright future in theatre once he learns that shouting isn’t projecting and that nineteenth-century Parisian urchins probably didn’t krump. His confidence and stage manner are highly impressive for an eleven-year old and with discipline he could reveal great promise.

The lighting (Glen ‘Scooter’ Reid) is sombre and frequently shadowy with a heavy reliance on spot-lights. This is stunningly effective when the menacing shadows encroach on the audience during ‘At the End of the Day’ – one of my favourite songs of the show – as the chorus spit out their words with plenty of intent and purpose. It also adds to Thénardier’s ‘Dog Eat Dog’ and the backlit barricades.

Some of the big chorus numbers (such as ‘Do You Hear the People Sing?’, ‘Red and Black’ and ‘One Day More!’) lacked the impact I was expecting. As the chorus were more than competent, and formidably led by Doug Kamo both on and off stage (as Enjolras and director), I can only assume this is down to staging. Having worked in the Memorial Hall many times I am aware of its limitations as a theatrical venue. The fact that a show of this scale was produced here at all is a triumph of which the entire production and technical crew should be proud.

It’s hard to wave a giant flag from atop a barricade when you’re afraid of crashing into the lights suspended inches above your head. No matter how hard they tried, this had to detract from the grandeur of the moment. Doug Kamo has a massive job to direct this masterpiece, but he orchestrates the elements and rises admirably to the challenges. I can but imagine the hurdles he had to overcome and the technical aspects of the production are well-served.

The orchestra, which is not even in the same room (how can you do a show without it? How can the powers that be when deciding that Queenstown doesn’t need a purpose-built theatre consider this acceptable?), does a phenomenal job. The sound mixing is generally excellent (Tom Lynch) and, if the singing is occasionally half a beat behind the music, it is a credit to all involved that it doesn’t happen more often.

This socio-political understanding is lacking from some of the group numbers, (‘Red and Black’ and ‘Master of the House’ risk appearing messy) and some dynamism is missing from the characterisation among the company. The women at the factory or the men at the barricades for example, often look more concerned with standing in position and singing in tune than they do in fighting for their lives. The much-touted revolve proves more distracting than anything with cast stepping on and off like toddlers on an escalator.

However, I heard a great, if somewhat obscure, compliment from an audience member behind me: when Enjolras dies on the barricades and they revolve to reveal his prone form, she whispered, ‘You can see him breathing’. I should hope so too. For one moment there it seemed as though she had forgotten she was watching a show in a provincial town hall and thought she was transported to post-revolutionary France. As an actor and/or director, who could ask for anything more?

This Les Misérables is different to other versions I have seen and I took different things from it. It allowed me to focus more on the principals and individuals rather than the madding crowd. Doug Kamo has used the privations to his advantage and created a unique interpretation of an adored show. Highly commendable and highly recommended.