Our Lady of Kibeho at Stratford East: Super Interesting Story, Super Uneven Tone

It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is A Taste of Honey, currently playing at London’s Trafalgar Studios until February 29…which is a thing this year!

Okay not to be like controversial but this play is the reason I help people get abortions. WOOF. In A Taste of Honey, Shelagh Delaney’s 1958 that she famously wrote when she was 19, a mother and daughter in the north west of England are down on their luck and also are the most annoying people ever. This interpersonal drama throws a bunch of ideas at the stage – classism, homosexuality, interracial couples, teen pregnancy. Unfortunately, not much sticks, so there’s only a dusting of various would-be interesting topics and the only real story seems to be, at least to me, these people suck and it’s sad but they suck. It’s a ‘slice of life’ drama but reminded me too much of Phoebe’s take on a certain classic (see below). Strong performances and a solid production can’t completely fix the insufficiencies in this play, although it helps to remember it’s hella old.

Okay the ‘real story’ is that there’s a bad mother who had a child she probably didn’t want and definitely didn’t know what to do with and now her child has a child she probably doesn’t want and definitely doesn’t know what to do with. One thing that it has going for it is, despite being written 60 years ago, it still feels relevant, since sad awful people with sad lives still abound and enjoy making everyone else as sad and awful as they are. In A Taste of Honey, Helen, the mother, is a wild woman who enjoys finding men to sleep with and drinking, oh my so much drinking, didn’t she hear about Dry January, and she does not enjoy having a teenage daughter who cramps her style. The teenage daughter, Jo, enjoys yelling at her mother for rundown lodgings and abandoning her to have flings with gross ass men (valid), as well has skipping school and having her own thang with a black sailor…and of course, getting pregnant. Instead of CALLING ME FOR HELP, Jo fulfills the whole predestined full-circle thing that Amy Sherman Palladino wanted to achieve with the end of Gilmore Girls but didn’t, and becomes yet another young woman with a baby determining the rest of her life, just like her mother, and the cycle of being stuck in a such a way continues. It’s a powerful subject matter, for sure, but it’s presented as merely depressing and sad. It does show somewhat that they are victims of circumstances, but they also aren’t good people.

The performances are pretty good, some great. Durone Stokes’ Jimmie the sailor boy is wonderful, a strong performer who somehow makes the guy who impregnates a teenage girl and then peaces out one of the more likable characters on the stage. Jodie Prenger as Helen starts off with a bang as they’ve incorporated musical numbers into the show, and damn she can fill a house with that powerful voice. It helps to be impressed with her singing before you want to scream at her (character). She is a bad bad mother. I’ve just binge-watched Spinning Out (please talk to me about it if you have, oh my god that ending) and it’s full of everyone calling January Jones a bad mother (which like, we knew, did you not watch Mad Men) but WOOF, she’s a saint compared to Helen. Prenger’s performance is strong, yet Helen is such an unlikable character that you can’t help but despise her, pity her a little for her circumstances, sure, but still despise her. Same for Jo (Gemma Dobson), whose youth and ignorance helps a little but she still sucks, especially in her treatment and dismissal of gay new best friend Geoff (a strong Stuart Thompson), who only ever tried to help and asked only for friendship in return and she was such a c word to him and she let her mother be the queen of all c words to him. Geoff was the only really decent person in the show and he was treated like dirt so like what am I supposed to learn except that I’m right in hating most people.

So my gripes are mostly with the play, which I guess is excused by its age and its being purposefully about people who suck and how they suffer systemically, yes, but also how they personally are not good. Regarding this production, my gripe is mainly the partial musicalization it underwent: If you are going make it musical (not A Musical but musical) and have an onstage band, then be consistent. The first act had some rousing numbers (that Prenger though) and used music well, but the second act had Geoff sing “Nature Boy” (with UGH annoying audience members whispering to their friends ‘OMG THE MOULIN ROUGE SONG’ like YEAH WE KNOW, THE TIME KNIFE, YOU DON’T HAVE TO SAY IT RIGHT NOW) and maybe one reprise but nothing else. The second act also dragged, so the lack of music to help out was obvious, so much so that the onstage musicians looked suuuuper bored despite all their effort not to, and I didn’t envy their having to sit through that dull second act every day with little to do.

Despite all my grievances, the heaviness of the play hit me where the characters and story didn’t. There’s something in there that sticks with you, a sadness about these people and subsequently all sad people like them. If you like wallowing in hopelessness about humanity, go nuts. 

INFORMATION

The show runs 2 ½ hours with an interval. It’s playing in Trafalgar Studios Studio One until February 29. Trafalgar Studios is always an annoying theatre because if you are seated above row G, there’s nooowhere to wait/mill around, just one way too narrow hallway with the upstairs bathrooms, also way too narrow and small. If you can sit in the front 5-6 rows, it’s much better because your bathroom is through the bar, where you might actually grab a foot of space to yourself.

There is smoking. One day someone might successfully defend the use of smoking in the theatre but that day has not come yet.

Musical theatre composers always say the test for what songs make the final score is rigorous and specific: They have to serve the story. The story comes first and the music needs to help tell it, whether by driving plot or developing characters. If the best song you’ve ever written doesn’t serve a purpose in the story, or just doesn’t fit the rest of the show, it needs to be cut. (That’s how we got the Hamilton Mixtape.) (Also how we got the incredible song “Come Down From That Tree” which we only know from Audra McDonald’s own recording of it because they wisely cut it from Once on this Island because it didn’t fit, even though it is a Best Song Ever.) I feel like most new musicals forget this test. Despite having so many productions in so many cities over the past four years, the London production of Amelie is full, packed, of songs that don’t pass the test. And the ones that do serve a purpose don’t fit the rest of the show, as the inconsistent tone only becomes more and more chaotic as the night goes on. It’s overall a poorly constructed show (funny since the actual physical construction/set design is the strongest part) with a confused purpose.

I don’t remember much about Amelie the movie, except that of course it was beyond whimsical and is probably responsible for the onslaught of manic-pixie-dreamgirls in the culture, or at least pale brunettes whose main personality trait is ‘quirky’. (PSA: Quirky/weird is not a personality.) A lot of my criticism of the ridiculous, messy story is likely taken straight from the movie. You might argue then that my problem is with the movie writers, not the creative team of the musical. And to that I’d say, what is this, Pretty Woman? Your job in adapting a film for the stage is not to copy and paste, failing to fix what needs to be fixed in order to work onstage. Whether this jumbled story worked in the film is completely irrelevant for stage purposes. They may have nailed the proper whimsical, eccentric tone in the movie, but trying the same things to achieve the same things in a different medium is bonkers and has resulted in an almost incoherent musical, with no discernible tone, objective, meaning, or intention.

With music by Daniel Messe (who wrote the music for the movie…and that score is excellent…so like…ah) and Nathan Tysen, and a book by Craig Lucas (who wrote one of my faves The Light in the Piazza which is also about a young girl who is, shall we say, not entirely there (so we were like…is that the only character he likes to write about because that’s problematic)), Amelie tells of a young French girl who lives through her imagination after a childhood of seclusion because her parents forking sucked. (Her mom gets killed by a man who jumps off Notre Dame, but he ALSO FIRST SHOOTS HIMSELF? Why? To make sure? What an asshole.) She decides to do a nice thing that makes someone else happy, so then she decides to do more nice things for other people and try to break out of her shell and maybe one day live in the real world. It sounds adorable! Except the things she does FORKING SUCK. Amelie the character is GODDAMN ASSHOLE. Is she supposed to be adorable? Is the whimsy supposed to make up for her assholiness? To quote Chidi-Janet: It does not. Makes it way worse.

The good deeds Amelie does include: finding a box under her floorboards and deciding to find its owner, which she does remarkably easily. To mark this occasion and her decision to do more good things, she…no, she doesn’t sing a song, her neighbor does, about being the old French man version of Samuel L. Jackson’s Mr Glass character.

Then, in the café where she works, there’s a really terrifying man stalking one of her coworkers because they went on a date a year ago. Instead of calling the police and filing for a restraining order, and maybe alerting the French version of the FBI that this is for sure a future incel/supremacist who is going to murder women, Amelie…sets him up with her other friend. For this there is no excuse.

Then there’s the mean old grocer who is mean to the boy who works for him because he…loves figs? This kid gets a little song about figs. Amelie doesn’t get a solo in the entirety of Act I. In Act II, she feeds the old man fig tart and it somehow makes him nice. I don’t know.

At some point, she bumps into a man named Nino, who spends his time going through public photo booths, like the kind where you get a strip of 4 photos in black and white. He collects the discarded ones; it’s his art. It’s love at first sight and Amelie sings about how striking this unexpected feeling is…no, Nino sings a song about the photo booth light. One day he loses his collection of photos, and Amelie finds it. Instead of returning it to him, she plays infuriating games with him and keeps his prized possession from him for literally weeks, but I guess he finds that adorable. I was fuming. Give people their shit back. One of the games she plays includes…going to the sex shop where he works, disguising herself as a nun, and then running away scared when she realizes he’s going to come out and see her?? WHAT DID SHE THINK WAS GOING TO HAPPEN? What is this white nonsense.

Amid all of this is a weird and tacky obsession with the death of Princess Diana. It’s in poor taste. I get that that’s a big thing in the movie but man alive it felt gross. Amelie imagines a big mega funeral for herself, with Elton John performing…and Act I ends with a HUGE rocking Elton John number that again, did not fit the show AT ALL.

I’m going to repeat that Elton John gets a big Act I number but in a musical named after her, Amelie does not have a solo in the entirety of the first act (except for a mini reprise). She doesn’t even seem like the main character at any point. The tone of the show is inconsistent and even contradictory, just all over the place, with big ridiculous silly numbers performed by giant garden gnomes and Elton Johns along with offbeat, artsy introspective songs. I guess with the contrast of styles they wanted to capture some whimsy? But it just feels like nonsense. There’s no magic. There’s one or two great songs in Act II, one with Amelie at the piano, that shows how good this show could have been with more work, and more editing. Or any editing.

Fortunately, along with the wonderful set design, the cast is doing a great job trying to keep this material afloat. Audrey Brisson’s Amelie looks exactly right and gives a great performance. The show takes a memo from the John Doyle playbook and has the actors doubling as the orchestra, which is impressive, and everyone is pretty uniformly good to great. With the solid cast and design, the production is definitely decent, but unlike the Guardian I can’t get past the material.

INFORMATION

Amelie is playing at The Other Palace in London until February 1.

This theatre has one of those horrible no-center-aisle situations so be sure to book seats on or near the aisles if you want to avoid being the last person out. Bathrooms are outside in the bar area but ALSO down in the secrets bowels of the building, accessed via a door directly at the bottom of the stage on the house left side. It took me several visits to learn about these secret and much better bathrooms down in the hallways between the main house and the studio that no one would usually get to explore. So now I like to sit on the house left/stage right aisle.

There is a lot of unnecessary smoking, and whatever herbal cigarettes they are using almost made me pass out. I get that ‘it’s Paris’, but you’ve shown that in myriad other ways. I dare anyone involved in theatre to defend well the use of cigarettes in a show. It’s never really necessary and instead is a health hazard to all and I don’t understand how it’s legal.

There’s also a super loud gunshot that shocked the shirt out of me. There was a small sign with all the trigger warnings on the door to the theatre but the ticket takers were blocking it when we entered, so, great work.

The first act ended at 20:43 and the show ended at 22:15. I felt every minute of it.