Eating Vegan and Living it UP in Muscat, Omanby Randi / July 22, 2019It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is The View Upstairs, playing at London’s Soho Theatre until August 24.
The best kinds of theatre tell a story somehow relevant to today, regardless of the time period or subject matter of the show, and get the message across in nuanced, powerful ways. In The View Upstairs, Max Vernon’s 2017 musical about the LGBTQ+ community, they’re getting a lot right, but there’s room for improvement. They’ve got the emotion, the politics, the lofty goals of what they want the end product to do, and a game and talented cast, but the nuance and art of it need work to make the show as a whole sing. With all that emotional honesty at the ready, the show has the potential to be great with some focus on fixing the weak spots.
Going into this production, the European premiere of Vernon’s musical that played off-Broadway in 2017, I didn’t know what it was about. I didn’t even know it was a musical (best kind of surprise you could ever gift me, universe), and I definitely didn’t know it was about the 1973 New Orleans arson attack on a gay bar called the UpStairs, the biggest, deadliest attack on the queer community until Pulse. If you read that and thought ‘they made that horrible depressing story a musical?’ then you don’t know the power of musical theatre to tell any and every kind of story. The musical treatment feels right for this intimate, heartfelt play, with it becoming overall a lovely tribute to the victims. However, it wasn’t cohesive enough as a whole to be truly great theatre just yet. I feel like if they were willing to make some changes at this stage (preview period baby!), it can be.
Roughly, the story is about a 2019 fab-u-lous young influencer named Wes (a fabulous Tyrone Huntley, like wow you are a star and must be exhausted) who is trying to redefine and grow his brand by buying an abandoned building in New Orleans, the future home to his clothing line/influencing products I don’t know I don’t understand instagram. The realtor explains that some of the damage is the result of a fire, obviously the Chekhov’s gun of realtor comments even if you didn’t know what the show was about. I was like OH SHIT OH SHIT WE’RE GONNA SEE THE FIRE I HATE FIRE AHHH WHERE ARE THE EXITS. Wes sings the best song in the show, “#HouseholdName (I’m sorry the # is in the name I have to do it), does some drogas, and suddenly is in 1973, his building now (/then) a fun semi-secret gay bar filled with all sorts of characters. He’s a little confused – is he tripping? is he time-travelling? (Mantzoukas voice:) what’s going ON?! – but quickly rolls with whatever’s happening. His rolling with the punches/homies is uneven, because he doesn’t seem to ask any questions or do a ‘wait, what?’ moment, which is fine I guess, but then later in the show Wes begins a song with a lyric about how he’s been freaking out all night trying to figure out what’s happening and I was like, um no you haven’t? you were just kind of immediately cool with this?
The cast of characters Wes drops in on in 1973 are enjoying the UpStairs bar, a place where they can be themselves without worrying (too much) about the outside world. There’s Buddy (John Partridge), the lounge’s piano player (who reminded me so much of some old-timey musician but also of Jack Skellington), a closeted gay man with a wife and family whose resentment comes out to hurt everyone and not just himself, but for some reason no one seems to mind what an asshole he is. They mind that Dale (Declan Bennett), a clearly troubled man who needs help, is an asshole, but is he that much more of an asshole than Buddy? His song was really moving; I just wish it (and others) weren’t set up so clunkily.
The talented cast all get some moments to shine, some more than others, but some are miscast or mistreated. A standout for me was Cedric Neal’s Willie, who gets the perfect balanced role of making both funny and poignant comments while showing off his ridiculous voice. I loved Carly Mercedes Dyer as Henri, always reliable for belting her face off, but it was strange that she didn’t get a solo but Freddy’s mother had two?? I mean wtf. I loved Victoria Hamilton-Barritt in In the Heights, but her Puerto Rican accent did not work here, and the Ines character, mother of Freddy, has two too many songs. They bring the action to a screeching halt. Also, she looks at oldest in her early 30s, so casting her as the mother of someone who looks…also in his early 30s is beyond ridiculous. Yes yes actors should be able to play whoever and whatever they want (just ask ScarJo) but if you want to portray the emotional beats of a mother and son, they shouldn’t look like man + little sister who just came from church.
But the most disappointing part is how the pivotal role of Patrick is treated. Andy Mientus has come over from the great broad way to teach us how it’s done over here, and while he himself is fantastic as always, Patrick is not fleshed out as much as the role should be. First of all, Andy, one of the best musical theatre performers of his type right now, is given the two worst songs to sing. They do nothing to show off his voice; they kind of feel like first drafts. The second song was so close to being strong but it was clearly in the wrong key, and like, minor? Make it major and it would improve exponentially without hurting the song’s message. As for his character, Patrick seems like all the other ‘70s people, living their normal lives when Wes just drops in on them. But at the end, he acts like he’s been some sort of narrator or leader to Wes like forking Cuba Gooding Jr. in What Dreams May Come. But he wasn’t! But make him one! It would be so interesting (and really help with cohesiveness) if there was this constant thread of Patrick as narrator or guide. His talking to Wes at the end makes no sense (especially his big joke line about being ‘f-ing magical’, though funny) unless the character is retooled throughout the body of the show to actually be f-ing magical, some sort of guide through this memory.
Although I wanted to ignore any problems and focus on how important this story was, the problems are too obvious. The transitions between dialogue and songs feel very amateur and clunky, with a lot of spoken moments between characters that might as well have set up the next song like, “here, let me sing about what I mean.” It diminishes the flow of the story and the character development to set it up that way. It kind of felt like Working. It shouldn’t.
One more problem I had was the contrast they kept trying to force between the community in the ‘70s versus today. There are sooo many compelling differences to discuss, yet the focus seemed to be on how people today are vapid attention whores who just want influence online and strong branding, at the expense of real relationships and love, and that the gay community is purely and coldly transactional. That’s true for Wes, clearly, but I don’t see that as true for many people today. Yes, many spend lots of time forging internet presences, but most of them also have real lives, so that’s not a universal problem and shouldn’t be treated as one. I mean maybe the message of the importance of community is just meant for like YouTube stars who go to see it but I doubt that. It would be stronger if it focused more on Wes’s personal struggle instead of trying to blame an entire generation for the bad parts of the internet.
This feels like an opportune time to point out one of Laughfrodisiac’s favorite – and defining – movie quotes:
I’ve shared a lot of not-nice thoughts about this new musical but only because it’s all there, all the groundwork, all the emotion, all the heart they need to make it magical. (Now I need to quote Cuba: ‘I’M ALL HEART MUFUCKA!’) With a bit of work it can be great.
INFORMATION
During early previews, the show ran 2 hours straight through, no interval. There were several moments were it would have been fine to break the show and have an interval, which is highly recommended so other people don’t get UTIs. Also, not worrying about keeping it to one act could let more transitions be fleshed out fully.
STAGE DOOR
The Soho doesn’t really allow for regular stage-dooring, so you just wait outside the main entrance (as of now) for actors who want to come out from the lobby bar to come out. Cedric Neal came out first and was incredibly lovely and amazing, followed by Mientus who was also really nice. I left before anyone else came out. I think they were all hanging in the bar so if you are cool and at ease in bars you could just stick around in there.
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Operation Mincemeat at the Southwark: Best Show in Two Years!
It’s Theatre Thursday! like…for real! About a live show! in an indoor theatre! I can’t believe it either.
Last weekend, we finally saw the Southwark Playhouse’s production of the new musical Operation Mincemeat. It has had a few runs in the past few years as the creative team continues to polish it, and we were supposed to see it hmmm a VERY long time ago and it’s finally back and we finally saw and the UK will finally have another great new homegrown musical for maybe the fifth time in 20 years. Yes, we went inside a theatre to see this week’s show. Thank goodness it was so good. If I had risked Delta for a piece of shit I would be so mad.
Operation Mincemeat is not a new telling of Sweeney Todd but is instead about the secret deception mission during World War II of that name. The not-well-known-enough-but-hopefully-this-show-will-make-everyone-know-more-about-it-and-also-maybe-other-things-about-this-war-like-the-Holocaust-because-rising-numbers-don’t-know-about-it-and-that’s-insane mission involved, from what I learned in this show: a pretentious posho with impeccable comic timing, a very sweaty detail-oriented nerd, a few secretaries of varying abilities of making you sob, Ian Fleming, a dead body, a movie screenplay, Spanish doctors who aren’t vets so I don’t follow them on instagram, and a plot that just had to work.
This British mission was a plot of misinformation directed at the nazis, a fake mission they created to steer them off course and attack where they weren’t expecting it. Quite cheeky for Brits, love to see them stop being polite and start getting real. The plot required finding a dead body, creating a false identity for it as a British pilot, ‘crashing’ him off the coast of Spain, and hoping that Hitler reads all the secret documents the corpse was carrying and then changes his plans to match the (fake) plans in the docs, leading to an Allied forces party in Sicily (sounds legit). The musical tells this story so well, thanks to an incredibly fun book, some truly wonderful music, and a game cast that repeatedly impressed me with their skill. Everyone was tops, with standouts for me being Natasha Hodgson with her gutbustingly funny manner as Ewen Montagu, and Jak Malone, who was amazing in several smaller parts but had most of the audience literally weeping with his big Act II love letter song in his role as the head secretary. It was like the opposite of a man-playing-woman role as Edna in Hairspray – completely nuanced and subtle and gentle and gorgeous. Like. WTF. That whole scene and song and performance was too good.
The first solid hour of the show is so strong, it renewed my faith in British musical theatre, it made me almost glad to be out of my house, it cleared my skin. It’s not perfect — there is way too much obvious Hamilton ‘inspiration’ (and some obvious Six), amid a sea of recent works that are clearly trying to hard to capture its magic. But it’s the least embarrassing Hamspiration yet, at least, which says a lot for it considering it’s still wypipo performing the big rapping sections. I would love to see a few bits after that first hour reworked; if they kept up that momentum and quality, it would be sensational. The Act II closer was well considered, with the team’s celebration in the club juxtaposed with the the submarine’s mission. But the direction becomes overly frenetic, and the “let me die in velvet” lyrics to the club song seemed too random to be anything but a wasted opportunity. The finale’s too many moving parts had a similar chaotic energy from trying to do too much (it’s nice to talk about e.g. postwar women’s rights but that’s nothing if not a shoehorned epilogue), although I really loved reprising Act I’s sea shanty (I forking love a good sea shanty).
My only big problem was with the Act II opener. You know from, well, 600 of my previous theatre ramblings that I’m a shill for big bouncy exciting Act II openers that quickly bring the audience back into the show’s universe. This opener was big and bouncy, but it made us feel sick. It has the cast dressed in nazi uniforms doing a ‘fun’ K-pop-ish dance club-ish LET’S ALL PARTAYYYYY number, and the audience. forking. loved it. They cheered, they danced, they put their hands in the air, and we sat there. It felt so messed up, to be sitting among a packed room of people having fun WITH the nazis. It wasn’t subversive or nuanced, it was just a party. Given the very very disturbing reactions of UK audiences to anything relating to Jews or Jewish culture (which I have written about extensively, unfortunately) (and the rise of fascism, and the rise of nazis, and the quadrupling in antisemitism in London…&c) it wasn’t surprising, just upsetting. A member of the creative team reached out and said that they are still working on making that song hit the right notes instead of what it’s doing in its current form, and I really hope they figure that out. But even if the audience does stop whooping it up with and cheering for the nazis long enough to acknowledge that they are the bad guys, it still wouldn’t serve the plot. I don’t know how to turn this song around so that it’s somehow necessary while also achieving the very difficult task of making the audience have fun with the nazis and then making them feel bad about it. I don’t think enough people in the world feel bad about it anyway so this is a big ask.
But if anyone could make it work, it’s probably this team. It’s such a fun, creative show and could really be spectacular. I can’t wait to see a future iteration of it, once I’m okay with leaving my house again.
AUDIENCE
Just like old times! I think everyone will be relieved to know that audiences are back to normal behavior and all of our old favorites are back – the phone-users; the nonstop talkers; the wrapper crinklers; the person who sits behind me and kicks my seat or, with the Southwark seats, really really wants to put his feet on the seat of my chair. Plus, now we have new favorites, like not wearing a mask and coughing. Unfortunately, these new faves were a little too difficult for me to tolerate (am I supposed to?) so it’ll be another while till I try again.
INFORMATION
The Southwark seems to want everyone to wear a mask, but believes they have no power to enforce a mandate because the government lifted its mandate. I was under the impression that private businesses can make their own rules but what do I know. At least a third of the audience was unmasked, and others when drinking. The Playhouse also said in an email that ventilation has been increased, like 8 liters more air circ per person or something that sounded very promising. However, this seemed like the least ventilated room I’ve ever been in – it was insanely hot and sticky (and tightly packed) and the air was seriously nearly suffocating.
Operation Mincemeat runs at the Southwark Playhouse until September 18.
City of Angels at the Garrick: Nearly Superb Production of a Nearly Great Show
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is City of Angels, playing at London’s Garrick Theatre after a transfer from the Donmar Warehouse.
The 1989 musical City of Angels may feel just like a 1940s noir film, but the intrigue and twists are all in cheeky good fun. And the new production in London’s West End is definitely good fun. While the great Cy Coleman’s score is less than great, this well directed, inventive production betters even the less exciting parts. The cast seems to delight in Larry Gelbart’s funny, clever book, and it’s all around a great time – if you have the right seat, in a theatre where at least half the seats are garbage.
City of Angels tells the story of a LA writer named Stine (a fantastic Hadley Fraser my goodness) who is working on the film adaptation of his acclaimed novel. As he writes in real life and deals with a wife he cheats on but it’s NBD and a girl he has affairs with but it’s NBD and a Hollywood producer who’s an ass and it’s a BD, we also see the pages he’s writing come to life, with his characters acting out the plot as Stine works on it (with hilarious effect when he deletes and redoes something). Despite being in his imagination, the characters in his story feel real, and the barrier between real life and fiction break down when Stine interacts with his leading man, Stone (a great Theo James, yes that one, such stage presence, very wow), in the most fun parts of this show.
With this super clever, original premise comes tons of humor and creativity, and this production is probably the best we’ll see of this show. The direction is almost flawless (see below) and everything feels purposeful. I never really call out the lighting in a show, but the lighting design here is everything. Stine’s real Los Angeles life is lit in color, whereas the scenes from his script are mainly in black and white, an effect that was impressive as hell when both worlds would share the stage simultaneously, and extraordinary as Stone and Stine toy with the barrier between them. Those clashes between the two S men play out to pretty much the only big song in the show, “You’re Nothing Without Me”, overused a bit as it closes both acts but when it’s the main theme as well as the only strong song for our leading men – and lets Fraser do his main job in this show, which is belting and holding big final notes to impress you and distract you and it works because man alive he is some shit – you can’t fault that use too much.
And yes, while the clever book mostly delights, the score somewhat pales in comparison. There are some strong songs in addition to the aforementioned, like Stine’s wife’s “It Needs Work”, a clever almost patter sort of song that Rosalie Craig does brilliantly. (Craig only plays characters named Bobbi I guess now, and this underwritten one is as satisfying as the previous. (That sounds like a huge compliment since everyone and their mother loved the famous gender-flipped Company but recall that I did not.)) It shows off her acting ability fantastically, but like a lot of the score (save for Hadley’s big belted notes) it doesn’t allow for showing off vocal ability. The only real chance for that comes from Rebecca Trehearn’s “You Can Always Count on Me”. Accustomed to stealing shows, Trehearn’s performance is a highlight.
But there are also some duds that fail the ‘does-this-need-to-be-a-song-and-if-not-is-it-at-least-worth-it’ test. I don’t even recall the underused Vanessa Williams (yes, that Vanessa Williams) singing, which is odd for someone who famously can sing well, but I know she did. (She also gets a cringeworthy line about ‘saving the best for last’. I cannot imagine that was in the original script, so the addition is so corny. But if it original, I will eat my words – but if it WAS is that why they cast her??? Honestly that would make me love everything about this production even more, that’s some baller move for one stupid joke, and I respect that.) For a character as vibrant as Stine’s producer, Jimmy Powers (a good Jonathan Slinger in a JK Simmons role) really should have stronger songs. And Bobbie’s cabaret sections just seem awkward.
Some of the performances left me cold as well. Nicola Roberts, from the pop group Girls Aloud, is not well suited to her one big song, which sounded like when our Kim McAfee in high school started rehearsal without warming up. And the Angel City 4, the ensemble that kind of narrates sometimes, and acts as a Greek chorus sometimes, and serves as the producer Jimmy Powers’ backup singers sometimes, sounded insanely off key all the times. I was literally making Chrissy-Tiegen-at-the-Globes gif face whenever they sang, which is super rude, but I couldn’t help it because holy wow those were some wrong ass notes! Fortunately, they don’t ruin another strong number, Munoz’s (Marc Elliott’s) fun “All Ya Have to Do is Wait”, although I don’t think there was any Hispanic representation in this show which is bad when there are some real yikesy slurs used.
All my endless raving about how well designed and directed this show is does actually have an end, though, and it’s now: This show is staged for 40% of the audience. The Garrick has notoriously horrible sightlines from too many seats, and pillars blocking the view for many of the rest. Add in a narrower-seeming stalls and stage than most, a mezzanine overhang that seems to start at the stage, and a chaotic wackiness to the seating plan, and you’ve got a recipe for disaster. That knowledge should make the director and crew more careful with what they are doing, but instead, here, they seemed to go ‘you know what, fuck it, let’s stage everything in that one top stage right corner even when it’s completely unnecessary, just to be dicks about it.’ There is so much happening at that spot that literally no one around us could see, and we had good seats. Given the overhang and sightlines, I am sure no one behind row M could see a good portion of the action, which is bullshit. If you’re lucky enough to be in that 40%, you’re going to have a phenomenal time. Otherwise, your resentment is going to color your experience, which is unfair both to you and this great production.
INFORMATION
For a 7:30 curtain, Act I ended at 9pm and the show ended at 10:28, which is about 15 minutes longer than it should be; there were issues at front of house before starting. Yes I really had to pee.
The Garrick Theatre is another stalls-in-the-basement one, so if you want to be at street level, sit in the circle. Also, the ladies bathrooms for the house left side of the stalls are upstairs anyway.
It is one of the smokiest shows in London right now, which is saying something since creators really love to keep those with respiratory problems and asthma away. Even for a 1940s noir show, smoking added nothing to the ambience they created with lights, performances, costumes, and sets. I am still waiting for someone to defend the use of smoking in the theatre to me.
The show is running until September 5, but the cast is changing several times (names this starry don’t do long runs anymore I guess).
STAGEDOOR
Everyone but Trehearn ran or snuck out a different entrance (as is their right yes but darn). The setup is nonexistent, so expect a mosh pit on the busiest sidewalk in London and a guard who doesn’t receive any information.
