January 19, 2023
Dinner at the new fully vegan Alter Londonby Randi / August 11, 2021It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is the Chichester Festival Theatre’s production of South Pacific, which we watched via livestream.
The current Chichester production of one of the best classic Golden Age musicals is overall enjoyable, thanks to its solid cast and, you know, the show itself being nearly foolproof. But there were a few ideas that didn’t pan out.
South Pacific is one of my all-time faves. A fave Rodgers & Hammerstein joint, a fave score, a fave Polynesian beach treat. I’ve see an exorbitant number of productions in my time, and it’s best done traditionally with the team fully invested in its potential for exuberance as well as emotional depth. People like to complain that it’s problematic because of its racist plot points. Guys, those plot points were meant to be racist. You know that right? Like Nellie and Cable fretting over being in love with people of color is supposed to show that they are racist. It’s not supposed to be, like, excused, not at all. That’s the point. The song “You’ve Got to be Carefully Taught” is not a lesson plan for parents — it is speaking with disdain about how racism is passed onto children. DISDAIN. NOT APPROVAL.
But modern productions like to make a few tweaks here and there to even the racial imbalance — and apart from the above thoughts, I won’t argue that the representation of Polynesian people isn’t stereotypical and thin (and entirely encompassed by really one character, Bloody Mary). Here, I think they were trying to address the imbalance by framing the show with Liat. At the start, I got worried because they cut the gorgeous overture. Instead, Liat did a little dance to the “Younger than Springtime” instrumentals. I like the idea of trying to give Liat more to do, to show how the troops’ presence affected her maybe, but this didn’t do that. Liat is the quintessential empty character, sadly, and having her dance a little bit more doesn’t solve that, and it doesn’t start a show very well.
The first real song in the show is my favorite (everything’s my favorite! smiling’s my favorite!), when Nellie Forbush sings “Cockeyed Optimist”. Nellie here is Gina Beck, who I have LOVED in past West End performances. She’s so talented. She’s also supes pregs, which was funny to see in our beloved Ensign, and so she shares the role with another actress. Gina is wonderful, but she is overdoing the Arkansas accent. It’s distracting. The director should have realized that it’s better to focus on the character and the whole singing well thing instead of overdoing a southern accent. Unfortunately, that persisted throughout the show (along with unflattering wigs), and instead of reveling every time Nellie opens her mouth, which I usually do, I just kind of cringed at the overexaggerated accent and how awful it made the songs sound. And I have a Mare of Easttown accent! I know from horrible accents!
Luckily, Julian Ovenden’s French accent is not as bad, and his…omg I’m drawing a blank…Rene Charle? Paolo Szot??? EMILE DE BECQUE JESUS FORKING CHRIST WHAT’S WRONG WITH MY BRAIN…anyway, his Emile is wonderful. For Luther Billis, I feel like that’s one of those roles like Ogie in Waitress where no matter what, it’s gonna be great. I liked Keir Charles’s performance, although he was rougher around the edges and little cruder than my boy Danny Burstein’s more ‘aw shucks’ version, which I find winning. Rob Houchen’s Lootellen Cable was fine; he always sings well, but he was a little stiff, especially in the beginning. I was like ‘hey that guy who is the bad Terminator in Terminator 2 just came out.’ But the only person I felt was kind of miscast was Bloody Mary, a shame because when done well she can be incredibly heartbreaking, taking all the claims of superficial writing and destroying them to become the most affecting part of the show. I think the problem was, Joanna Ampil, super talented though she is, is just too young for the part. Bloodies Mary I’ve seen have always been older than the seabees, but Joanna is like, relatively young and attractive so the seabees’ attention wasn’t believable as joking around verging on mockery. It was more like, yeah she’s your age, why wouldn’t she be the girl you love? Just kind of off. Also, in my opinion, the drama works best when parts like “Happy Talk” turn out to be devastating in contradiction of its lyrics. Here, it was a little too slow and dark but without showing the desperation underneath.
But maybe I’m just mad because this production didn’t use “My Girl Back Home” (the original didn’t either, but it was reinstated in prods of the last few decades), which always makes me giddy. In this song, Nellie and Cable talk about the homes and the loves they left behind in America, Nellie in Little Rock, and Cable in muhfuking PHILADELPHIA. He even repeatedly sings Ardmore, PA!!! I mean I never even care that he can’t decide whether he’s from Princeton or Philly or Ardmore but a bitch don’t care!
With Nellie’s accent keeping me from fully melting into the love story, I was able to look at it with a more discerning eye. It is HELLA forked up that Emile has two kids, but doesn’t give a shit about them. When Nellie momentarily forsakes him, Cable and the officers are like, well shit Emile, now that you have nothing to live for you should go with Cable on this super dangerous mission. Nothing to live for because his girlfriend is mad at him??? HE HAS TWO F-ING KIDS! Seriously so insane. What a weird show that I love with my whole being.
I admit that I could easily be overly harsh on every little aspect of every production of this show, because I was spoiled for life by the 2008 Broadway revival. (It was so perfect, 104% perfect, that it could in itself be what heaven is.) (Also, not to belabor the point, but Kelli O’Hara is literally FROM Oklahoma (same as ARK) and her southern accent was barely noticeable.) But overall, this one was a fun time, as it’s hard to tarnish this classic.
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Allegiance with George Takei Comes to London
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is Allegiance, playing at the Charing Cross Theatre until April 8. OHHH MYYY!
George Takei’s very personal show about the Japanese internment camps that the United States thought were cool cool cool during WWII has come to London. I say ‘his show’ even though he didn’t write it because everyone calls it that, because it’s inspired by his life story. Our beloved Georgie was taken to the camps in California when he was mfing 5 YEARS OLD. It’s hard enough to watch adults playacting at living through this horror onstage; can you even fathom what it was like for this beloved man as a tiny boy? You cannot. So everything he brings to it — the harrowing story, the heart, the lovable performance, the magic of seeing this public persona live onstage — is wonderful, and the show is moving in large part because of all his gifts, gifts of performance and connection and the biggest one, of giving his story to the theatre.
The show begins with an elderly Japanese man named Sam (IT’S GEORGE!) dressing in his WWII uniform to mark the anniversary of Pearl Harbor, as he does every year. A woman comes to his door with the news that his sister Kei has died, and George kinda freaks out like STOP IT, PAST, LEAVE ME ALONE, I HADN’T TALKED TO KEI IN 50 YEARS! which is, wow, REALLY sad, like that’s a really long time, that’s much longer than I’ve been alive, wtf, how could you not talk to your sister for that long, what the crap happened? Luckily the show goes awooawoowoo and turns back time to show us the story of what happened. Sam becomes mfing lovable Telly Leung all the way from the great white wayyy yes Tellayyyyy! to play Sam as the young man, forced at the prime of his life to enter the internment camps with his sister Kei, his father who he THINKS is always disappointed in him but is he really or is he just strict and not great with English?, and his grandfather (played by George now). We see the trials and tribulations, yet also the hope and light they forge in the camps with their fellow prisoners, and the love they find – including TellySam with a hawhite nurse, Hannah. STUFF GOES DOWN!
Real talk, it’s not a great show because it still needs some editing of the story to make it as strong as it should be, but you are either lying or dead inside if you aren’t moved at least a few times. Removed from my first viewing on Broadway 7 years ago (jeeez), I can see how great this show could be with the help of a dramaturg. I’m a big believer that every show should hire a dramaturg for at the very least a once-over, like a final edit to make sure it’s in tip-toppiest. But even so, Allegiance has so many good qualities and strong parts, some great songs, some real potential in its characters and storylines. The parts don’t add up to as good or as strong a whole as they should, as it deserves. All that goodness is still there, but it needs some refining, and it’s a shame it didn’t get it.
BUT it’s all still there to be enjoyed and to be moved by! Allegiance is enjoyable and manages to tug at the heartstrings (I know I pick on the big miss at the Guardian because she’s terrible but like, objectively, how could you NOT. FEEL. ANYTHING. at the end? with the magazine? come on). Aynrand (real name…we are still both shocked and in awe of this…I just…her parents…wouldn’t you change…what’s…how’s…what’s…oh it’s just so amazing…and also no) Ferrer as Kei sounds very much like Lea Salonga, there’s a very similar tone to her voice, which is quite possibly the highest compliment that can be given on this planet, so her songs were a treat to listen to, including importantly my favorite song in the show, ‘Higher’. Its simple clear lyrics paint such an effective portrait of her childhood and her sacrifices, and so efficiently, it makes me teary every time. LOVES IT. Kei and Frankie, her love, didn’t have like, great chemistry (sorry Frankie) but I totally dug what Telly and Nurse Hannah created with their few songs (including the bop ‘I Oughta Go’, which was staged well).
Most of all, it’s a gift to see George Takei acting live onstage, giving his everything so we can feel and understand the importance of what he’s trying to convey. SO LISTEN TO HIM. HE’S BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH. HE’S 85 YEARS OLD. LISTEN TO HIMMMM. GO SEE IT AND BOW DOWN TO HIM. CRY YOU BASTARDS! WE LOVE YOU GEORGE!
Sweet Charity at the Donmar: Can This Retroactively Win the Olivier?
The minute you walk in the joint, you can tell this was a show of distinctionnnn A REAL BIG SPENDER. Okay I’ll try to stop doing that (no promises), but man I’m not lying about the game being ON as soon as you enter the Donmar, all redone in the style of Andy Warhol’s 1950s factory. Sure the style redo doesn’t technically add anything for the story, but this specific anachronism doesn’t harm the story at all so I have no issue with their going for a cool look. And every other inch of this stunning, shocking, poignant revival is pitch perfect, not only serving the story but improving its meaning and deepening its emotional reach, in a way I never ever would have guessed was possible from knowing this show in previous incarnations.
As soon as the beat dropped (in my heart #jasonmendoza) and Anne-Marie Duff’s Charity started speaking to the pace of her quick-beating heart, jumping too quickly at any semblance of affection (as well as into a BUBBLE PIT LAKE, want) and latching onto it though it was always too slippery to grasp, I was in awe. No longer simply a good-hearted, down-on-her-luck heroine, we’re finally reminded after too many bland, uninspired revivals that Charity is a tragic character, in a fully heartbreaking tragic tale like the old school Greeks did. Charity is no simple sweet gal; she is a poor aging woman who life continues to beat like a piñata yet she always retains hope that the piñata is full of candy so she’s like ‘I guess the beating from life is okay because maybe candy?’ but it never is candy, poor sweet Charity, it never is. It’s always more and more unfair bullshit and she deserves better and NEVER GETS IT and finally, thanks to Anne-Marie Duff in a true masterclass of performance and character understanding, that’s the Charity portrayed in all her pitiful, tragic glory.
Josie Rourke’s meticulous, brilliant direction uses every inch of Cy Coleman and Dorothy Fields’ score and Neil Simon’s book to prove that this show is one of the great tragedies of musical theatre, exemplified by the super-slowed down version of “Big Spender” that, in its almost painstakingly slower meter, let the grit and devastation and more than anything desperation of the taxi dancers fill in all the slower gaps in the beat. You could tell the audience, recognizing the song, wanted to tap their feet and bop along in their seats, but Josie was like NO, SIT STILL, IT’S DEPRESSING. It was great. The other most well-known song in the show, though, was pure adorable joy, when Duff perfected, really, I mean, perfected, “If My Friends Could See Me Now”, when she finds herself in the apartment of a famous movie star (a fantastic Martin Marquez). With her scratchy voice that reminded me at times of Alice Ripley in Next to Normal (though with more optimism than Diana) in how it can use its jagged edges to cut directly to your core, Duff made this moment a delight, with nothing threatening to take it from her, like with all her future moments of happiness.
Another standout song, a song that I had forgotten about, was the determined number between Charity, ensemble standout Lizzy Connelly, and a great Debbie Kurup, “There’s Gotta be Something Better Than This”, a resolution among three pretty defeated women to ‘get up, get out’ and live a better life. Sharpening the emotional impact of what was already flawless was the painful reprise at the end, a knife through all our hearts that were already BROKEN ENOUGH from the preceding actions, jfc were Coleman and Simon and freaking Dorothy trying to kill us??
On top of all this, they also managed to include the most provocative version of Oscar (Arthur Darvill). Instead of just a one-note ‘nice’ guy who, like all ‘nice’ guys, ends up not being so nice, he was the epitome of toxic masculinity, representing in his averageness all the regular men who believe #notallmen yet still cannot condone women who live life on their own terms, women who don’t fit inside their controlling, oppressive box. Instead of feeling bad for Charity that Oscar isn’t what she’d hoped, you feel angry at Oscar for being such a weak man (and, though you hate to see her sad, glad that Charity found out before she devoted her life to him).
Honestly, if every revival brought half as much heart and inspiration to its reworking of classics, we would have endless amazing, transformative theatre. Rourke’s Sweet Charity sets a new benchmark that I hope future revivals can meet, but they’re gonna have a hard time trying.
