An Inspired Production of The Last Five Years at Southwark Playhouseby Randi / March 5, 2020A tad too late in the game for reminding English people that they actually approve of (the idea of) some refugees, The Prince of Egypt has arrived in London, packing ‘em in at the Dominion Theatre and taking no prisoners (except the Hebrews). Based on the 1998 DreamWorks movie of the same name, The Prince of Egypt tells the story you know from your babble, of a little Hebrew bebbeh whose mother put him in a basket and sent him down the river instead of keeping him to suffer the slavery and genocide of their people. That baby was discovered by the Queen of Egypt, who adopted him, named him Moses (surprise!), and raised him as her own, until he realized his heritage and decided, with the help of god, to save his people. It’s a fantastic story, and really a phenomenal idea for a musical. So why is this show so lackluster?
Honestly, it feels amateur. It feels like an early draft in terms of book (at least some of that dialogue, yeesh) and, much more so, score, which is a strange feeling to get about material that has existed in large part for more than 20 years. I hate to speak ill of my boy little Stevie Schwartz, composer of some of my favorite scores (like Pippin and Wicked (don’t even try to pretend you don’t also love the Wicked score, no one’s buying your bullshirt)), but aside from the Oscar-winning “When You Believe”, there are few musical numbers that don’t feel pedestrian, despite so many golden opportunities for great songs. And the layout, my god: in Act II, there was a 40-minute span where every. single. song. sounded the same, with the same melody, same key, same time signature. It’s like Musical Theatre 101 to not have songs that sound the same or achieve the same goal in a row, so to have like, 7 of them almost made me scream. It’s a shame that a production this huge and this destined for a long run has such a bland score.
The visuals of this production, however, are fire. I mean that literally – there’s a good amount of pyrotechnics used. This production is dripping with evidence of endless financial backing, and it’s quite a visual treat. The staging, the special effects, that stage lifting up to ‘drown’ the Egyptians (the best part!), it’s all great. Not in an artistic way, mind you, not in a ‘wow this is sophisticated storytelling’ way, but in a ‘wow this spectacle is fun to watch’ way.
That extends to the cast as well. Luke Brady is a strong Moses, tasked with the enormous burden of carrying the show and doing a commendable job. His brother-turned-enemy, Ramses, is played by a solid Liam Tamne who gave me strong Papi from Pose vibes while offering a very very different Ramses from what we’ve seen before from performers like Yul Brynner, much more obviously insecure and uncertain. Christine Allado’s Tzipporah, like most of the women in this male-centric show, was sung well but felt poorly written. Her first big song is a sexy dance in a cage and she’s like ‘when I dance I dance for me’ which could have given Miss Saigon early-first-act vibes but instead reminded me of the Crazy Ex Girlfriend song “Put Yourself First” where the girls satirically sing “make yourself sexy/just for yourself” and I was like, oof. Her character continued to enrage me when she complained about the possibility of having to live in the palace in order to SAVE AN ENTIRE RACE like holy what girl get over yourself oh it’s so sad you have to live like a princess in order to SAVE PEOPLE FROM SLAVERY my absolute goodness. Ramses’s wife Nefertari (which every time I heard it was like like “It’s NeferTITI oh wait no it’s not”) (played by Tanisha Spring) is similarly underwritten as a haughty bench, except she gets to show a softer side (really any side) with a moving song in Act II that was, unfortunately, too similar to the ones before and after it. I did like Alexia Khadime’s Miriam, possibly because she is only really in it to act like Jasmine in the marketplace pretending to be crazy (except not pretending) and then singing the best song, so, lucky her.
The ensemble is probably the hardest working in London right now, with endless difficult choreography demanded of them. I’m not sure if Sean Cheesman’s (stay fresh, cheese bags) nonstop, energetic, primal choreography is always necessary, but it’s always interesting to watch and feels raw and visceral in a unique way (I almost yelled in pain just watching some of the more intense moves). The talented ensemble may be the most diverse in London too, which is great.
But I’m not sure that huge diverse ensemble includes any Jews (and even if it did, the whole awkward dancing to chanting Hebrew felt strange). And that wouldn’t be the only problem with this show in terms of that representation. This is a show about Jews – not sure if you knew, but Moses, hoo boy, he’s big with us. And this is telling his entire story, from birth to the parting of the Red Sea, like, it’s foundational Judaism right here. But this production, aside from treating ‘Hebrew’ like it’s some exotic fictional designation (and never saying the word Jew), has sanitized the story so it never actually feels like it’s about religion. It really seems like this guy Moses is doing all of this on his own, with very few, too few, mentions of how god is working through him and how god is on the side of the Jews (chosen people helloooo). Also, his guilt about all the shit he’s wrought is sad but he never confronts god about what he’s making him do. Seriously if you didn’t know the story it’s very blink-and-you’ll-miss-when-they-mention-it’s-god’s-doing, when they mention that god wants to save the Jews. Which is weird. Maybe they wanted this to feel like a more universal refugee story, which is valid for today’s society, but there’s a way to do that without making it feel like Jewish erasure.
If you are a discerning theatregoer, you are better off forgetting about Charlton Heston’s crappiness for a bit and rewatching The Ten Commandments film and playing “When You Believe” at the opportune moment, like when I watch Legally Blonde and pause when she sees her name on the list of interns so I can sing “So Much Better” from the musical version. If, instead, you are an average London audience member who loves spectacle, you will love this.
INFORMATION
Act I ended after an hour and 20 minutes, and the show overall ended after 2 hours 45 minutes. Yes it is about 20 minutes too long.
I sat in the stalls, and I recommend sitting on the house left side aisles for easy access to the ladies rooms. There’s one up from the bar at the back on the left, and there’s one if you sit on the extreme left all the way down by the stage, so that’s a fun little secret few people knew about. This theatre is a g-d barn so I can’t say if the right side of the house was set up the same.
Like most things at the Dominion Theatre, the audience behaves like they’re at a rock concert (as most long-running recent productions have been rock concert-ish…or the traveling megachurch services, not even joking). Lots of phones, lots of talking and even at like, regular volume? I had to yell at an old man for nonstop loud talking and he didn’t stop so I had to sit back and stew and hope that corona gets him.
Maybe I’m just spoiled with well done theatres lately, but the Dominion is a mess right now, not really up to par with small hospitality things that every other West End and near-West End theatre does. Like, they have no water pitchers at the bars. If you want water you have to wait in the regular long bar line. What’s up with that nonsense! Also, only one of the stalls doors had a content warning sign (strobe lights, flashing, fire, &c) and I had to go searching for it. And there are no signs for the run time information so you have to find an usher to ask.
Also, programmes are £6. And they aren’t even giant souvenir-edition ones! Just for the regular small programme. PASS (over).
Related Posts
Our Lady of Kibeho at Stratford East: Super Interesting Story, Super Uneven Tone
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is Our Lady of Kibeho, playing at London’s Stratford East theatre until Nov. 2, when I imagine the Virgin Mary will appear to burn it all down.
Like the Catholic Church doesn’t have enough bad PR going for it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Our Lady of Kibeho, the 2014 play written by Katori Hall, was a hit job to make sensible people hate the church’s reps even more vehemently. Faaack, those are some assholes on that stage! If you can get past how absolutely awful 98% of the characters are, you may enjoy Kibeho as it tells the true story (I mean as true a story as people seeing visions of the Virgin Mary can be, no offense but what) of the girls at Kibeho college in Rwanda who saw said visions of the virgin in 1981. Mary showed them predictions of the coming Rwandan genocide, which is incredibly harrowing and infuriating that no one believed them and did anything to stop it, but then again what could they have done to stop it? (Also, query whether it was a self-fulfilling prophesy? Dark.)
In Kibeho, Alphonsine (a very winning Taz Munya), whose father I assume is named Alphonso because otherwise why, but also even if that’s the reason oof, has seizure-inducing visions of the Virgin Mary (you don’t know this but in my head I’m saying it ‘wirgin’ because I just watched a video of a German man speaking). Of course, nobody believes her, because organized religion is largely composed of unbelievably shitty people (see, e.g., 98% of churches in America; the aforementioned Catholic church; &c.). The Father and Sister and Bishop of the school yell at her, which is some BULLSHIRT. Your entire thang is based on just believing what you’re supposed to believe because you, well, just BELIEVE (see, e.g. The Book of Mormon for this sentence put to music) and instead of believing her or really even asking if the girl who keeps having seizures is okay, ffs, you yell at her and sic the meanest mean girls in school on her instead? WHY ARE PEOPLE. Ugh I was so, so angry for most of this show, wanting to sprint up to that stage and punch Sister Evangelique (suchhh a Pose house name!) and Marie-Claire in the face and the Bishop man in their mean faces.
Luckily (?), another girl, Anathalie (I honestly kept thinking they were saying ‘ah, Natalie’ every time) starts having the visions too. They still get bullied and no one else believes them and the other mean girls beat them? and the Sister Pose torments them? I do not get how any of these people can make a claim to be close to god but alas, that’s organized religion. Anyway, luckily (?) Marie-Claire, the Regina George of Rwanda but meaner, starts seeing the visions too and seizuring all about that beeyatch, so the Vatican comes a-calling.
Now, holy shit, truly holy shit, is the Vatican rep the worst man ever. Katori Hall is SAYING SOME SHIT with this muhfucka. He literally stabs the girls during their visions because if they were really having religious visions, they wouldn’t feel pain or whatever. SURE SEEMS LEGIT. Must he, MUST he stab them in the chest for this test? Not the arm? Even the leg? But the chest? As exasperating as that question is (my heart was pounding louder than the show), I have another one for you – what kind of monsters tasked with being in charge of these girls (the sister, the father, the bishop, inter alia assorted fuckers) allows this to happen? UGH THIS IS HOW WE GOT HERE.
Anyway, aside from the fury raging like flames, flames, flames, on the side of my face, this show is pretty interesting. There are scenes, especially the ends of each act, where I was completely swept up in the onstage action, completely oblivious to my loud heart and the loud people around me. There are moments of brilliance, especially among the girls. However, the adults, especially the men, were uniformly weak, but more importantly oddly directed by James Dacre. Instead of sticking to what made sense for their characters (sure they can be total assholes, that’s normal in all plays, but make it make sense in the show), so many lines were delivered as cheap laugh grabs, when it made no sense for the story or the character. Sure, the audience loved it – audience love cheap laugh grabs; they do work – but it took me out of the story and made me into my favorite gif, the one of the little blonde toddler making a ‘what the hell?’ face. I was mimicking that amazing toddler for way too much of this show, at so many confusing, bizarre line deliveries, when it could have otherwise been pretty strong and cohesive, and of course unsettling and disturbing since we know what came next.
INFORMATION
The show is playing at Stratford East, east of London by the Olympic Park, until November 2. There are 4 stalls in the ladies toilet. The stalls are single rows (no center aisle) so if you get claustro get lower-numbered seats (those are nearer the side by the exit. I had an aisle seat of course but on the wrong side, oops).
Talking Bout That Big Black Queer-Ass American Broadway Show: We Saw ‘A Strange Loop’
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today we are finally talking about ‘A Strange Loop’, this year’s Best New Musical Tony Winner and all-around contender for BDE BME!
What a season for Michael Jacksons! Michael R. Jackson, Tony-winning phenom (remember that show? anyone? about tennis?) and creator of brave new worlds of musical theatre, has given modern MT a gift of a new show, new in every conceivable way, and reminded everyone in the scene how important it is support new works and artists. Because it could produce THIS! His intimate and clever and unique show follows Usher, a Black queer man working as an usher at The Lion King, who’s writing a musical…about a Black queer writer writing a musical…about a Black queer writer writing a musical.
I feel like a big book of cliches talking about how original this show is, but it’s true, and I’m not even talking about the hysterical jabs at Lion King and its audiences. We have a self-identified fat queer Black man being open and honest about his family and how unsupportive and sometimes cruel their treatment of him is; about his dreams and his demons, personified by the rest of the ensemble cast as his Thoughts; and about his sexuality, like full on not holding anything back. There’s sex between two men on a Broadway stage! The ancient old lady near me busted out a ‘well I never!’ but she loved it!
Usher quickly establishes himself as a sympathetic character. We’ve heard great things about Jacquel Spivey but he was out, and his understudy Edwin Bates was ridiculously good and a gorgeous singer. You can’t not love the guy for laying bare literally everything he could possible lay bare, including his bottom. As he struggles through living in New York with a dream that hasn’t yet come true, his interactions with his Greek chorus of Thoughts often trying to drag him down are incredibly easy to identify with by anyone human. Surely everyone has had similar experiences with self-doubt, maybe self-hatred, but wowie zowie has anyone so openly put them on literal display like this? It’s so intimate and raw.
You get right up inside Usher’s emotional life, his fears and self-doubts, and self-loathing, and his family struggles. It feels like eavesdropping, like you should be apologizing and turning around being like ‘don’t worry I didn’t see anything you’re fine!’ instead of paying hundos of dollars to watch. The intensity of the intimacy is astounding, and I think it’s one of the main reasons it caused such a storm.
The score is so much fun, hilarious and joyous at times, heartbreaking and soulful at others. Why was the most beautiful melody in the show, the one that stuck in my brain the most after hearing it only once, given to the lyric “the second-wave feminist in me is at war with the dick-sucking Black gay man”? Because this MJ is a genius who says ‘why tf not!’
The gloriously bold writing doesn’t just focus its power on the character, but of course turns the tables on the audience – but subtly. One of Usher’s Thoughts at some point says point blank how the topics they’re discussing makes it harder to allies to feel easily supportive, as the issues are less obviously things allies attach themselves to, not about slavery or Jim Crow or ‘intersectional issues like police violence’. It’s so blatant and ballsy, how it calls out the pitfalls of the people who fancy themselves decent allies, to show how they need to do more and care about actual people and not just issues that are easy to care about. The whole show very much feels like a ‘oh you want to support Black talent and art? How about this’ kind of thing to the stereotypical rich white audiences. Almost daring the audience to like it, or not, and think about why. And we liked it, and we loved it.
INFORMATION
The Lyceum Theatre belongs in an abandoned farm in rural Alabama, not on Broadway. It needs to close down and get refurbed like YESTERDAY. Move this show to a better theatre and take the needed time to build bathrooms that human-sized humans can use. And for the love of god get rid of the mens room in the balcony that opens FROM THE AISLE, wtaf? Who built that?
Also the Lyceum balcony is falling apart already — our row was on a slant, like we were falling towards one side and one buttcheek was higher than the other. literally what. And people are paying so much money for that.
Leaving the theatre, we saw The Real Michael R. Jackson! We got to talk to him and I said some stupid things as I do! What a treat!
