Warsaw, Poland: Beautiful and Welcoming City with a Tragic Pastby Randi / June 12, 2018
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today we are talking about “The Rink”, at the Southwark Playhouse until June 23.
Confirming our long-held belief that the best of London musical theatre happens at Southwark Playhouse, their latest production of “The Rink” is a flawless gem. The 10th venture from theatre gods Kander & Ebb, “The Rink” tells the story of Anna, an Italian-American woman with an estranged daughter, who owns a rundown roller-skating rink on the boardwalk by a changing-for-the-worse seaside. The original 1984 production starred Chita Rivera and Liza Minnelli as the mother and daughter, so if you were alive to witness that you probably died from the experience. It won Chita the Tony, yet was poorly received by critics, especially sourpuss Frank Rich at the failing New York Times. (Fun fact: Director Rob Marshall was a performer in that production.) I can’t imagine how different that production had to have been from the brilliance that’s occurring at the Southwark Playhouse right now, because it may be the best musical production on a London stage right now and I know I can’t compare myself to the New York Times (I don’t support Nazis, for one), this shit’s gonna be a rave.
“The Rink” introduces us to Anna Antonelli as she greets a crew of worker men at her skating rink. They are ready to clear out all the junk and demolish the property so she can sell it and move away from it and move on with her life. Anna wants to get rid of every single thing in the many boxes, like she wants to clear this clutter from her life and clear all the memories from her mind. But her estranged daughter Angel arrives to stop her mother from selling, saying that it’s theirs, not hers, even though she hasn’t been home or seen her mother for the better part of a decade. Naturally, the surprise reunion brings a lot of emotions and repressed memories to the surface as the two women deal with their relationship and all they’ve been through.
A lot of the credit for how winning this production is goes to the star, Caroline O’Connor, who was last seen on Broadway in “Anastasia” hamming it up as the kooky assistant to the queen or whatever grandmama Romanov is. I only know O’Connor as a performer in America, but she’s English and built up a career in Australia first. Incredibly, she understudied the role of Angel, the daughter, in the first London production of “The Rink” in the ‘80s, which helps explain how she seems to understand every nuance of this role and show and sell it so completely. From the very first number, “Chief Cook and Bottle Washer” (which I didn’t know was from this so I got excited when I recognized it), she cements herself as a comedic force to be reckoned with, with impeccable timing. It helps that that song is a fantastic way to introduce a funny yet short-tempered woman right off the bat. Kander & Ebb really know what they’re doing.
The opening triumph of “Bottle Washer” is solidified with electrifying performances of song after song that quickly draw you into the show’s drama while making you laugh constantly. The mother-daughter dynamic between Anna and her daughter Angel, played by a fantastic Gemma Sutton, feels so real that you believe it so fully, all their bickering about superficial things and all their struggles to understand each other over the more important issues, all happening as Angel tries to stop her mother from throwing their memories out with their possessions. It’s one of the first times I noticed in a musical that the acting was stronger than the singing. And the singing was pretty good.
What takes this production to new heights is the subtle direction from Adam Lenson, who creates emotional moments that devastate amid the comical parts. The main conceit is that the ensemble members playing the worker crew slide seamlessly between their present day characters and figures from the women’s past, all signified by a change in the lighting or the music. In one of the most superb scenes, Stewart Clarke’s workman would dig into an unmarked box, pull out a blue crystal goblet and ask Anna “what’s this?” and in an instant he would be Anna’s ex-husband Dino giving Anna these goblets for their anniversary. The movement in and out of present and past is impeccably done, and it allows for the high comedy to give way effortlessly to poignant drama. As the show progresses, we see more and more of the past as we are given the opportunity to piece together what happened to drive these two women apart. We see that Dino becomes violent and unstable after he comes back from the war, yet with the same disdain for family life. We see Anna neglect her daughter in an attempt to prove her own desirability, yet risk everything to shield her daughter from the ugly truth.
The flashbacks also describe what happened to this town to leave the rink in such a shambles. A standout ensemble member, Ross Dawes, morphed into one of Anna’s older lady friends with a scarf around his head, as he and the other ‘ladies’ bemoaned the state of things, with hooligans coming in and taking over with their violence and loud music. The guys were really funny in these scenes, so you weren’t prepared for these sweet old ladies’ attempts at standing their ground in front of these thugs to end in serious violence, for Anna too. Everything we see explains and supports her decision to sell and get the hell out of there and not take anything with her, yet everything we see from Angel’s past defends her desire to stay and bring back some of that magic she used to feel as a kid at the rink. She sings often of the colored lights she remembers shining here, and you can’t fault her for wanting to recapture some of the only happiness she’s felt in her life. For a show about whether or not to sell an old roller skating rink, this musical is exceptionally compelling and moving.
Despite the end of the first act dragging a little, there were no bits that I would cut (and that’s saying something because I always want to make cuts), thanks to Kander & Ebb’s great score and Terrence McNally’s strong book. All of it informed the central conflict or reminded the ladies of the good times they had here, like the flashback that included the number we all were waiting for – the dance on roller skates that brought the house down. It was like they were tap dancing, but just happened to be wearing roller skates. This amazing, joyous memory was one that the girls would surely both want to keep, and one of the many in this show that audiences will treasure.
INFORMATION
“The Rink” is playing at Southwark Theatre until June 23, and tickets are only $25 (remember that is in pounddollars). If there’s any justice, it should transfer to the West End, although this tiny theatre is an advantage for this show.
STAGE DOOR
The situation at the Southwark is unique, because the building is just a cramped lobby-bar and then a hallway leading to the auditorium. There’s no stage door, and everyone – audience, cast, crew, bartenders – quickly ends up crammed together in this room. Whether you want to meet an actor or not, you’ll end up bumping into them as you come out of the bathroom or wait for a drink. It usually is great because it’s not awkward like it is at stage door; you’re all just occupying this same space and it would be weirder for you not to acknowledge that the actor you’re trying to pass did a great job. However, this was my first bad experience with this set-up. Most of the cast was super friendly and eager to chat, including Gemma and all of the men. But when I and a few other fans (not with me) tried to talk to Caroline, she ignored us. Now, I am the first person to remind fans that no actor ever has to stage door, and whether they decide to or not is completely up to them and they should not be judged on it. But when you are just in a tiny bar talking to people, it is not a good look for you to ignore people who are literally next to you. Caroline spoke with a few guys who knew someone who knew her for a good 20 minutes as we stood there just trying to say hello and great job, and when they mentioned that they would let her get to her other fans (gee thanks), she turned and went to someone that she knew. Despite standing next to her for more than a half hour, she never looked at me or the other girls I was standing with. It’s one thing to not do the whole stage door thing, but to ignore people who are literally next to you, waiting to talk to you just at a bar takes nerve. It kind of broke my heart because I wanted to tell her how amazing her performance was, sure, but also do you know how long I’ve been waiting to meet Nini Legs in the Air? YES THAT WAS HER. Ugh. Anyway. That’s my story. At least the following week Renee Fleming gave me a hug so you know, that’s much better especially since that’s the person who you’d understand being ‘above meeting fans’ yet wasn’t in the least.
A lot of the credit for how winning this production is goes to the star, Caroline O’Connor, who was last seen on Broadway in “Anastasia” hamming it up as the kooky assistant to the queen or whatever grandmama Romanov is. I only know O’Connor as a performer in America, but she’s English and built up a career in Australia first. Incredibly, she understudied the role of Angel, the daughter, in the first London production of “The Rink” in the ‘80s, which helps explain how she seems to understand every nuance of this role and show and sell it so completely. From the very first number, “Chief Cook and Bottle Washer” (which I didn’t know was from this so I got excited when I recognized it), she cements herself as a comedic force to be reckoned with, with impeccable timing. It helps that that song is a fantastic way to introduce a funny yet short-tempered woman right off the bat. Kander & Ebb really know what they’re doing.
The opening triumph of “Bottle Washer” is solidified with electrifying performances of song after song that quickly draw you into the show’s drama while making you laugh constantly. The mother-daughter dynamic between Anna and her daughter Angel, played by a fantastic Gemma Sutton, feels so real that you believe it so fully, all their bickering about superficial things and all their struggles to understand each other over the more important issues, all happening as Angel tries to stop her mother from throwing their memories out with their possessions. It’s one of the first times I noticed in a musical that the acting was stronger than the singing. And the singing was pretty good.
What takes this production to new heights is the subtle direction from Adam Lenson, who creates emotional moments that devastate amid the comical parts. The main conceit is that the ensemble members playing the worker crew slide seamlessly between their present day characters and figures from the women’s past, all signified by a change in the lighting or the music. In one of the most superb scenes, Stewart Clarke’s workman would dig into an unmarked box, pull out a blue crystal goblet and ask Anna “what’s this?” and in an instant he would be Anna’s ex-husband Dino giving Anna these goblets for their anniversary. The movement in and out of present and past is impeccably done, and it allows for the high comedy to give way effortlessly to poignant drama. As the show progresses, we see more and more of the past as we are given the opportunity to piece together what happened to drive these two women apart. We see that Dino becomes violent and unstable after he comes back from the war, yet with the same disdain for family life. We see Anna neglect her daughter in an attempt to prove her own desirability, yet risk everything to shield her daughter from the ugly truth.
The flashbacks also describe what happened to this town to leave the rink in such a shambles. A standout ensemble member, Ross Dawes, morphed into one of Anna’s older lady friends with a scarf around his head, as he and the other ‘ladies’ bemoaned the state of things, with hooligans coming in and taking over with their violence and loud music. The guys were really funny in these scenes, so you weren’t prepared for these sweet old ladies’ attempts at standing their ground in front of these thugs to end in serious violence, for Anna too. Everything we see explains and supports her decision to sell and get the hell out of there and not take anything with her, yet everything we see from Angel’s past defends her desire to stay and bring back some of that magic she used to feel as a kid at the rink. She sings often of the colored lights she remembers shining here, and you can’t fault her for wanting to recapture some of the only happiness she’s felt in her life. For a show about whether or not to sell an old roller skating rink, this musical is exceptionally compelling and moving.
Despite the end of the first act dragging a little, there were no bits that I would cut (and that’s saying something because I always want to make cuts), thanks to Kander & Ebb’s great score and Terrence McNally’s strong book. All of it informed the central conflict or reminded the ladies of the good times they had here, like the flashback that included the number we all were waiting for – the dance on roller skates that brought the house down. It was like they were tap dancing, but just happened to be wearing roller skates. This amazing, joyous memory was one that the girls would surely both want to keep, and one of the many in this show that audiences will treasure.
INFORMATION
“The Rink” is playing at Southwark Theatre until June 23, and tickets are only $25 (remember that is in pounddollars). If there’s any justice, it should transfer to the West End, although this tiny theatre is an advantage for this show.
STAGE DOOR
The situation at the Southwark is unique, because the building is just a cramped lobby-bar and then a hallway leading to the auditorium. There’s no stage door, and everyone – audience, cast, crew, bartenders – quickly ends up crammed together in this room. Whether you want to meet an actor or not, you’ll end up bumping into them as you come out of the bathroom or wait for a drink. It usually is great because it’s not awkward like it is at stage door; you’re all just occupying this same space and it would be weirder for you not to acknowledge that the actor you’re trying to pass did a great job. However, this was my first bad experience with this set-up. Most of the cast was super friendly and eager to chat, including Gemma and all of the men. But when I and a few other fans (not with me) tried to talk to Caroline, she ignored us. Now, I am the first person to remind fans that no actor ever has to stage door, and whether they decide to or not is completely up to them and they should not be judged on it. But when you are just in a tiny bar talking to people, it is not a good look for you to ignore people who are literally next to you. Caroline spoke with a few guys who knew someone who knew her for a good 20 minutes as we stood there just trying to say hello and great job, and when they mentioned that they would let her get to her other fans (gee thanks), she turned and went to someone that she knew. Despite standing next to her for more than a half hour, she never looked at me or the other girls I was standing with. It’s one thing to not do the whole stage door thing, but to ignore people who are literally next to you, waiting to talk to you just at a bar takes nerve. It kind of broke my heart because I wanted to tell her how amazing her performance was, sure, but also do you know how long I’ve been waiting to meet Nini Legs in the Air? YES THAT WAS HER. Ugh. Anyway. That’s my story. At least the following week Renee Fleming gave me a hug so you know, that’s much better especially since that’s the person who you’d understand being ‘above meeting fans’ yet wasn’t in the least.
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“The King and I” Transfers to London: More like The Queen and I
It’s Theatre Thursday! We’re talking about “The King and I”, which is now playing in the West End after transferring from Broadway!
Seeing “The King and I” at Lincoln Center Theatre three years ago (I remember because it was my birthday) was a magical theatrical experience, one that felt majestic and classic, as well as classy. From the opening scene with that enormous boat gliding into the orchestra, to the last moving moments, I was enraptured with its perfect direction and flawless performances. With that Broadway production’s transfer to London, complete with its top two stars, Kelli O’Hara finally gets to show the West End what incredible talent looks/sounds like and Ken Watanabe keeps getting to make audiences laugh. But the production feels like the final moments of “Pippin” when compared to the Broadway incarnation – like when everything is stripped away to show what the stage would be like without magic. Sure the lights and costumes and music are all there, but it feels like the magic is missing. The lackluster feel is partly due to the theatre it’s in (the Palladium), partly due to a West End cast that just isn’t as top notch, and partly due to the wackiness of the source material being exposed in this new light.
Don’t get me (too) wrong: it’s still one of the better productions currently on the West End, but it doesn’t hold a candle to the Broadway version. Something feels off, and the audience reaction (weird audience, btw) made me realize what it was: England is treating this show as if it were a pantomime. If you aren’t familiar, a panto is a beast native to England, a musical comedy extravaganza that is for families (i.e. little kids). Different from a musical that happens to be a comedy, a panto is more like commedia dell’arte (another thing I can’t stand) – silly and slapstick, with sight gags and over the top performances. And a big part of it is audience reaction – they cheer, they boo the bad guys, they hiss, they oooh at romance, they shout “he’s behind you!”. I avoid pantos because they are super annoying and I don’t want to explode at children. God just thinking about pantos is giving me a skin rash all of a sudden. My blood boils at the thought that someone might make me go to one. So you can see it’s a big problem with interpretation that London audiences are treating “The King and I”, this golden age classic, even a little bit like they treat pantos.
And you can’t really blame the audiences for reacting like they’re at one (well you can, and I will, but it’s a little understandable) because the show itself is kind of weird. I never noticed it before, and I’m not sure why it was so glaring now, especially since the director (Barlett Sher) is the same as on Broadway. Maybe it takes a familiarity with the source material to finally get to that point where you can focus on just how strange it is. But the starkness with how this is presented – with none of the glitz or grandeur or sumptuousness of the previous production – exposes the problems of the book.
“The King and I” tells the story of Anna Leonowens, real life English lady who traveled to Siam to serve as a schoolteacher to the children of King Mongkut in the 1860s. One of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s most beloved works, the show includes familiar song after familiar song, and is so well known for a reason. The score is gorgeous and for the most part sounds great here. But the book falls flat. Okay so Anna and her son (will he ever not be annoying?) arrive in Siam and ask the King’s men where her house is. They tell her she is to stay at the palace. But the King had promised her her own house! She needs privacy! No one argues with the King (not YET), so she stays in the palace while she waits to talk to him about his promise. Um then in the next line we learn that more than a YEAR has gone by, and she’s still waiting but she loves the kids and loves teaching them and so you’re like well fun I guess I don’t mind too much that we made a huge time jump and wow we’re going to keep on making them. Discussion about her house seems to be like most of the first act. I get that it’s one aspect chosen to be representative of the communication barriers and the fact that independent women were foreign to this culture, but it seems like a lame thing to focus on. The King is always frustrated with this woman who keeps combating him at every turn, and Ken wins the audience over with his song “Puzzlement” even though you can’t really understand what he’s saying when it’s sooo fast. It’s honestly more difficult to understand than it was before but eh he’s such a good actor and he’s so winning in most of his book scenes.
Then we watch the two lovers, Lun Tha (Dean-John Wilson, in freaking everything it seems) and Tuptim (Na-Young Jeon) sing about how much they love each other but how they can only meet in the shadows because, well, Lun Tha brought Tuptim over from Burma as a gift to the King, so she is like one of his slave-wives now. Why they didn’t just flee before he presented her as a gift to the king is beyond me. Also what is he still doing in town years after delivering her? They both sing the roles decently, although both cracked a few times. Their voices might not be 100% fitted to these parts. I think Jeon’s upper register is still a little too weak for 8 shows a week and not to be mean but I missed Ashley Park’s incredible voice.
Anna’s relationship with the King stresses you out most of the time, because she isn’t afraid to speak her mind but he’s the King and is like no one fights with me! Et cetera! Et cetera! Oh so in the beginning Anna uses the phrase ‘et cetera’ and the King is like WHAT IS THIS YOU SAY and she explains what it means and so then EVERY SINGLE FUCKING LINE from then on the King uses it and for the first few times it’s funny but then at the 10th time it is infuriating and by the 90th time he says it you are literally breathing fire. It is so annoying Hammerstein! Literally my least favorite decision Hams has ever made.
Anna also has a very tense relationship with his Wife #1, Lady Thiang (Naoko Mori) and strives to win her over even though Lady Thiang is intermittently jealous and encouraging Anna and the King to become closer. It’s never comprehensible why she would want that. Mori is fine as Thiang, but she doesn’t bring anything more to the role than how it is written. Which is fine – no one ever really can bring more to what’s written simply by using their acting and singing skills. No one except Ruthie Ann Miles, that is, the Lady Thiang from Broadway who won the Tony for her performance. She was supposed to be in this production – and the production itself refuses to say that she isn’t in it even though, well, she’s not (she’s still in the programme and the website and everything but she isn’t in it) – but she had to take time to herself due to her personal tragedy. It was an honor to see her performance on Broadway, and seeing this show again made me realize just how astonishing she is, turning what is usually just a whatever role into a fully fleshed out character whose motivations were clear and understandable for the first time.
So the big drama of Act II is that an English diplomat is going to visit from Singapore and bring other hoity Englishmen, and the Siamese have to use this visit to convince them how great they are SO THE ENGLISH DON’T TAKE THEM OVER. Yeah so England was threatening to take over Siam as a protectorate, and everyone, literally everyone, just accepts that the burden is on the Siamese to prove that they aren’t barbarians and so the British, um, shouldn’t take them over. It’s so f-ing weird, and no one even mentions the thought that decent people first have, which is, why is it on them to convince the whites that they are decent people so the whites don’t steal their land? If you were unfamiliar with the show, you would surely expect that Anna’s whole purpose as an intermediary between the two parties would be to take the opportunity to say ‘hey wait a minute old British friends. These people shouldn’t have to prove to you that they are worthy of KEEPING THEIR COUNTRY AND FREEDOM! And isn’t it patently obvious that the people threatening to takeover another land and their inhabitants would be the real barbarians?’ No, no one says any of this. They have to prove that they are western-friendly, and that’s that. I get that it’s old-fashioned but surely people have always been able to see that taking over other lands is wrong? no?
So they prepare for this important visit by dressing everyone in Western garb and singing the moooost racist song. But it works out because Tuptim reads her play based on Uncle Tom’s Cabin, called ‘Small House of Uncle Thomas’, and they do a TWENTY MINUTE BALLET ABOUT IT and honestly it’s the best most amazing thing to have in a big musical because WHAAAT. It’s so f-ing random and amazing and we’ve been singing “Tricky little Topsy!” all day err day. SO RANDOM. Well it’s not too random, the story at least, because Tuptim is a slave and she’s narrating a play directly at the King about how bad slavery is and how evil King Simon of Legree (the best) was to poor Eliza (run Eliza run! run Eliza run! erma it’s amazing). But having this crazy 20 minute ballet about it is pretty damn ballsy to put in the middle of a musical and it’s so good. I’m obsessed. I love the choreography of this ballet, with Eliza running away by hopping on one foot. Anyway Buddha saves Eliza and then the lovers meet again and discuss how Anna always helped them meet by going out in the courtyard or whatever with them and you’re like huh we never saw that, that’s weird to just mention like that instead of ever showing I mean we’ve had three hours to do so. They decide to run away. And then Anna and the King have a beautiful dance (“Shall We Dance”) and seem to be friends and there’s also a weird spark there and you’re like holy crap that’s powerful but that’s kind of not the show I want to see and then the guards bring in Tuptim who escaped and they’re like we’re gonna kill her now and Anna is like no you’re a barbarian and everyone cries and Anna decides to leave Siam for good (but the veg fest…) but then the King has heart sadness and is dying from Anna calling him a barbarian so Anna decides to stay. What. Et cetera.
The book is kind of frustrating, as you could tell from my repeated stabbing of the capslock key, and the pacing feels off. At least a good twenty minutes could have and should have been cut (but not my Uncle Tom ballet! Never!). I don’t remember this show ever feeling as long, and unnecessarily so. It is a satisfactory production, but it isn’t the magical splendor I remember. Well, except for the performance of our Anna Leonowens. As Miss Anna, O’Hara’s performance seems like it has been marinating for the past three years because it’s even more nuanced, touching, and gorgeous than it was before – and she deservedly won a Tony for it before. I am not surprised, because she is the best working soprano in musical theatre today, but I didn’t even realize how much more realized her performance could be. It’s a marvel and it’s worth sitting through the three hours of sometimes-nonsense to witness her thrilling performance. Her “Hello Young Lovers” is the best sung moment I’ve ever heard in this city. Yep I said it and I will fight you on that. Truly, as much as I’m complaining about this production, and as horrible as the audience was, I will absolutely be returning to watch Kelli perform. She’s a triumph.
INFORMATION
The Palladium Theatre is a real POS. The toilets are near the entrance, on the other side of the huge lobby and bar area. And even though there are so many hallways and rooms and corners, everything feels squashed together. It’s a real claustrophobic place, outside the actual auditorium. The auditorium is at least airier, but it’s the wrong theatre from this show. I think it benefits from a thrust stage and this kind of shirty proscenium stage does nothing for this production.
AUDIENCE
Just expect the worst and you won’t be disappointed. Well you will be disappointed, in humanity, but you won’t be surprised. Aside from the panto reactions (oh I forgot, they also enjoyed clapping along to the music), we also had parents and children just flat-out talking, loudly, to each other the whole time. One 10-year-old ish girl in our row was having the worst time, and she kept asking her mother if they could leave. Instead of taking her out, which she should have done, the mother kept fishing around her bags to give her kid more and more food – all wrapped in the noisiest plastic you could imagine. Literally without even a moment’s pause, this happened for three straight hours. Aside from that kid, this was a different situation in that most of the trouble came from older people, when usually people our age are the worst. There was one older lady who was playing with paper the whole time, like balling it up, and it was actually so loud and she had no idea because she couldn’t really hear anyway. Omg there’s that skin rash.
STAGE DOOR
Speaking of how much of a POS this theatre is, the security staff at stage door had NOOO idea what was happening. After everyone had lined up, the guards then brought out barriers and made everyone re-line up behind them. Why weren’t they out at the start of things, she asks not expecting anyone to ever have a good enough answer. Right away Ken came out, skipped the beginning of the line of course, where I was, signed a few programs, and left. Then the guards announced that that was it. They went through all that trouble just for Ken? Ughh I was so upset that no one else was coming out. The guards broke down the barriers and told everyone to go home. I waited a minute just to be sure, and literally one minute later the entire cast came out. What the actual fuck. These guards were SO DUMB. But I got to freak out Kelli again as I always do so that was fun/humiliating. Et cetera.
And you can’t really blame the audiences for reacting like they’re at one (well you can, and I will, but it’s a little understandable) because the show itself is kind of weird. I never noticed it before, and I’m not sure why it was so glaring now, especially since the director (Barlett Sher) is the same as on Broadway. Maybe it takes a familiarity with the source material to finally get to that point where you can focus on just how strange it is. But the starkness with how this is presented – with none of the glitz or grandeur or sumptuousness of the previous production – exposes the problems of the book.
“The King and I” tells the story of Anna Leonowens, real life English lady who traveled to Siam to serve as a schoolteacher to the children of King Mongkut in the 1860s. One of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s most beloved works, the show includes familiar song after familiar song, and is so well known for a reason. The score is gorgeous and for the most part sounds great here. But the book falls flat. Okay so Anna and her son (will he ever not be annoying?) arrive in Siam and ask the King’s men where her house is. They tell her she is to stay at the palace. But the King had promised her her own house! She needs privacy! No one argues with the King (not YET), so she stays in the palace while she waits to talk to him about his promise. Um then in the next line we learn that more than a YEAR has gone by, and she’s still waiting but she loves the kids and loves teaching them and so you’re like well fun I guess I don’t mind too much that we made a huge time jump and wow we’re going to keep on making them. Discussion about her house seems to be like most of the first act. I get that it’s one aspect chosen to be representative of the communication barriers and the fact that independent women were foreign to this culture, but it seems like a lame thing to focus on. The King is always frustrated with this woman who keeps combating him at every turn, and Ken wins the audience over with his song “Puzzlement” even though you can’t really understand what he’s saying when it’s sooo fast. It’s honestly more difficult to understand than it was before but eh he’s such a good actor and he’s so winning in most of his book scenes.
Then we watch the two lovers, Lun Tha (Dean-John Wilson, in freaking everything it seems) and Tuptim (Na-Young Jeon) sing about how much they love each other but how they can only meet in the shadows because, well, Lun Tha brought Tuptim over from Burma as a gift to the King, so she is like one of his slave-wives now. Why they didn’t just flee before he presented her as a gift to the king is beyond me. Also what is he still doing in town years after delivering her? They both sing the roles decently, although both cracked a few times. Their voices might not be 100% fitted to these parts. I think Jeon’s upper register is still a little too weak for 8 shows a week and not to be mean but I missed Ashley Park’s incredible voice.
Anna’s relationship with the King stresses you out most of the time, because she isn’t afraid to speak her mind but he’s the King and is like no one fights with me! Et cetera! Et cetera! Oh so in the beginning Anna uses the phrase ‘et cetera’ and the King is like WHAT IS THIS YOU SAY and she explains what it means and so then EVERY SINGLE FUCKING LINE from then on the King uses it and for the first few times it’s funny but then at the 10th time it is infuriating and by the 90th time he says it you are literally breathing fire. It is so annoying Hammerstein! Literally my least favorite decision Hams has ever made.
Anna also has a very tense relationship with his Wife #1, Lady Thiang (Naoko Mori) and strives to win her over even though Lady Thiang is intermittently jealous and encouraging Anna and the King to become closer. It’s never comprehensible why she would want that. Mori is fine as Thiang, but she doesn’t bring anything more to the role than how it is written. Which is fine – no one ever really can bring more to what’s written simply by using their acting and singing skills. No one except Ruthie Ann Miles, that is, the Lady Thiang from Broadway who won the Tony for her performance. She was supposed to be in this production – and the production itself refuses to say that she isn’t in it even though, well, she’s not (she’s still in the programme and the website and everything but she isn’t in it) – but she had to take time to herself due to her personal tragedy. It was an honor to see her performance on Broadway, and seeing this show again made me realize just how astonishing she is, turning what is usually just a whatever role into a fully fleshed out character whose motivations were clear and understandable for the first time.
So the big drama of Act II is that an English diplomat is going to visit from Singapore and bring other hoity Englishmen, and the Siamese have to use this visit to convince them how great they are SO THE ENGLISH DON’T TAKE THEM OVER. Yeah so England was threatening to take over Siam as a protectorate, and everyone, literally everyone, just accepts that the burden is on the Siamese to prove that they aren’t barbarians and so the British, um, shouldn’t take them over. It’s so f-ing weird, and no one even mentions the thought that decent people first have, which is, why is it on them to convince the whites that they are decent people so the whites don’t steal their land? If you were unfamiliar with the show, you would surely expect that Anna’s whole purpose as an intermediary between the two parties would be to take the opportunity to say ‘hey wait a minute old British friends. These people shouldn’t have to prove to you that they are worthy of KEEPING THEIR COUNTRY AND FREEDOM! And isn’t it patently obvious that the people threatening to takeover another land and their inhabitants would be the real barbarians?’ No, no one says any of this. They have to prove that they are western-friendly, and that’s that. I get that it’s old-fashioned but surely people have always been able to see that taking over other lands is wrong? no?
So they prepare for this important visit by dressing everyone in Western garb and singing the moooost racist song. But it works out because Tuptim reads her play based on Uncle Tom’s Cabin, called ‘Small House of Uncle Thomas’, and they do a TWENTY MINUTE BALLET ABOUT IT and honestly it’s the best most amazing thing to have in a big musical because WHAAAT. It’s so f-ing random and amazing and we’ve been singing “Tricky little Topsy!” all day err day. SO RANDOM. Well it’s not too random, the story at least, because Tuptim is a slave and she’s narrating a play directly at the King about how bad slavery is and how evil King Simon of Legree (the best) was to poor Eliza (run Eliza run! run Eliza run! erma it’s amazing). But having this crazy 20 minute ballet about it is pretty damn ballsy to put in the middle of a musical and it’s so good. I’m obsessed. I love the choreography of this ballet, with Eliza running away by hopping on one foot. Anyway Buddha saves Eliza and then the lovers meet again and discuss how Anna always helped them meet by going out in the courtyard or whatever with them and you’re like huh we never saw that, that’s weird to just mention like that instead of ever showing I mean we’ve had three hours to do so. They decide to run away. And then Anna and the King have a beautiful dance (“Shall We Dance”) and seem to be friends and there’s also a weird spark there and you’re like holy crap that’s powerful but that’s kind of not the show I want to see and then the guards bring in Tuptim who escaped and they’re like we’re gonna kill her now and Anna is like no you’re a barbarian and everyone cries and Anna decides to leave Siam for good (but the veg fest…) but then the King has heart sadness and is dying from Anna calling him a barbarian so Anna decides to stay. What. Et cetera.
The book is kind of frustrating, as you could tell from my repeated stabbing of the capslock key, and the pacing feels off. At least a good twenty minutes could have and should have been cut (but not my Uncle Tom ballet! Never!). I don’t remember this show ever feeling as long, and unnecessarily so. It is a satisfactory production, but it isn’t the magical splendor I remember. Well, except for the performance of our Anna Leonowens. As Miss Anna, O’Hara’s performance seems like it has been marinating for the past three years because it’s even more nuanced, touching, and gorgeous than it was before – and she deservedly won a Tony for it before. I am not surprised, because she is the best working soprano in musical theatre today, but I didn’t even realize how much more realized her performance could be. It’s a marvel and it’s worth sitting through the three hours of sometimes-nonsense to witness her thrilling performance. Her “Hello Young Lovers” is the best sung moment I’ve ever heard in this city. Yep I said it and I will fight you on that. Truly, as much as I’m complaining about this production, and as horrible as the audience was, I will absolutely be returning to watch Kelli perform. She’s a triumph.
INFORMATION
The Palladium Theatre is a real POS. The toilets are near the entrance, on the other side of the huge lobby and bar area. And even though there are so many hallways and rooms and corners, everything feels squashed together. It’s a real claustrophobic place, outside the actual auditorium. The auditorium is at least airier, but it’s the wrong theatre from this show. I think it benefits from a thrust stage and this kind of shirty proscenium stage does nothing for this production.
AUDIENCE
Just expect the worst and you won’t be disappointed. Well you will be disappointed, in humanity, but you won’t be surprised. Aside from the panto reactions (oh I forgot, they also enjoyed clapping along to the music), we also had parents and children just flat-out talking, loudly, to each other the whole time. One 10-year-old ish girl in our row was having the worst time, and she kept asking her mother if they could leave. Instead of taking her out, which she should have done, the mother kept fishing around her bags to give her kid more and more food – all wrapped in the noisiest plastic you could imagine. Literally without even a moment’s pause, this happened for three straight hours. Aside from that kid, this was a different situation in that most of the trouble came from older people, when usually people our age are the worst. There was one older lady who was playing with paper the whole time, like balling it up, and it was actually so loud and she had no idea because she couldn’t really hear anyway. Omg there’s that skin rash.
STAGE DOOR
Speaking of how much of a POS this theatre is, the security staff at stage door had NOOO idea what was happening. After everyone had lined up, the guards then brought out barriers and made everyone re-line up behind them. Why weren’t they out at the start of things, she asks not expecting anyone to ever have a good enough answer. Right away Ken came out, skipped the beginning of the line of course, where I was, signed a few programs, and left. Then the guards announced that that was it. They went through all that trouble just for Ken? Ughh I was so upset that no one else was coming out. The guards broke down the barriers and told everyone to go home. I waited a minute just to be sure, and literally one minute later the entire cast came out. What the actual fuck. These guards were SO DUMB. But I got to freak out Kelli again as I always do so that was fun/humiliating. Et cetera.
“Funny Girl” on the West End: I’m Here to Monsoon on this G-D Parade
I was so pumped to finally be seeing “Funny Girl” performed live, to hear in context the classic songs Barbra Streisand made famous and “Glee” made intolerable. Going into “Funny Girl”, the Menier Chocolate Factory (no it doesn’t make chocolate (I know it’s such bullshit (f-ing London))) production now playing at the West End’s Savoy Theatre, I knew to dial back expectations. Every single reviewer I trust (theatre fans and people on the forums, and not reviewers for The Guardian and other b.s. spewers) repeated that our star, Sheridan Smith, is not the strongest singer, and so to be warned. (I mean if anyone saw her turn as Elle Woods, then you know (but her acting is what you come for.)) Sheridan is famous (and infamous – we will get to that) over here in the UK, known for being a great comedian, a good actress, and a decent singer. Okay, that’s fine. Even for musicals where you want the (classic, ingrained-in-our-culture, wonderful) score to be sung with the heft it deserves, they can still be very enjoyable with a lesser singer if the acting is superb. Hell I saw “Evita” with Elena “I’m going to whisper all the high notes but I can dance like a Latina Hough sibling” Roger and I still thought it was great. So I was fully ready to be disappointed that the songs we all know and love weren’t belted to the rafters.
What I wasn’t expecting was that the singing wouldn’t even come close to being the real problem with this show. Not this production, but this show as written. And, yes, consequently the production for just, like, doing the show. Without changing anything! Or issuing a warning! “Funny Girl” needs to come with a freaking surgeon general’s warning because PEOPLE (PEOPLE WHO NEED PEOPLE) it may be the most offensive piece of theatre or, hell, piece of art. It’s definitely the most offensive one I can think of right now anyway! I understand that it is from a very different age, but that doesn’t excuse the decision to do a straightforward revival of it, with no commentary or even nuance to say hey, we know this is crazy and we don’t believe it. It’s not like anyone’s doing a straight remake of “Song of the South” anytime soon. It’s too common for the values espoused in the show to still be held today, so the production and all involved so easily seem to be supporters of its messages instead of critics of them, as everyone with a brain and/or a pulse should be. It played like a PSA from Fox News during its Family Values Hour. Or as an infomercial from the campaign of he who shall not be named. So even though it is an old show, like old for the earth, that’s no excuse, because audiences are being fed the themes straight no chaser and taking them as continued gospel for the insane.
Okay, maybe you’d like to know what these messages are. Well, “Funny Girl” is a very fictionalized tale of Fanny Brice, the legendary actress from the ’20s and ‘30s known for the Ziegfeld Follies and the song “My Man” (not in the musical). It debuted on Broadway in 1964 with the score by Jules Styne and Bob Merrill and book by Isobel Lennart. I know you’re thinking ‘how can it be so anti-feminist if the book was written by a woman’ but hello Palin & Fiorina & Bachmann and the rest of those self-hating toxic beach diapers. (Also she was a COMMIEEEEEEEE!) So we see Fanny, this totally goofy Jewish girl from Brooklyn, trying to break into show business but everyone in her life – her friends, peers, family, and all the old yentas from the neighborhood – keep quoting my girl Shug Avery and telling her “damn you sho is ugly!” and so no one takes her dreams or her talent seriously for a while. Um, side note, I know I’m newer to the earth and wasn’t around, but I’m pretty sure the characterization of Fanny as overwhelmingly goofy physically, and as waddling like a duck/unable to look like a human when she walks because lol so chub, was a decision of the director and production and actors, so ick. I know Real Fanny was a comedian and made some amazingly silly faces as part of that but I don’t think her face was stuck in sideways baby duck face during every moment of her life.
Anyway, Fanny tells the people of horseville that she’s destined for stardom because she is the greatest star of all, in a song called “I Am the Greatest Star of All”. It’s hard to buy it when we haven’t seen her really do anything yet and it isn’t being sung by the greatest singer ever, as it was when Barbra sang it, so just gotta trust her on this one. She gets into vaudeville and her career takes off because she’s so outrageous and funny and untraditional, and she joins the esteemed Ziegfeld Follies, where she soon meets Nicky Arnstein, a suave tall person in a nice suit who is also a gambler and really a shit. (He’s played pretty perfectly by Darius Campbell, who really reminded me of Andy Garcia in “Ocean’s Eleven” #thatmonotonetho) Because he is so tall and suave and she is so disgusting and unlovable, Fanny falls for Nicky hard and is just counting her lucky stars every few seconds that he likes her back. (They sing “People” when they first meet, which I was excited for but it was kind of underwhelming.) No one can believe that anyone could ever love someone as repulsive as Fanny, and all the people in her life pretty much say that to her face, and Fanny can’t believe it either, so she resolves to marry Nicky as fast as she can to prove that she is worth something as a woman, because her stellar career and personal success means bupkis mit kaduchas if she can’t get a man. When she leaves a tour to find him and marry him, she sings to pretty much a random train conductor “Don’t Rain On My Parade”, which in my version she sings to Nicky when she decides not to marry him so she can focus on her career and finding someone worthy of her.
Nicky’s shifty business deals and gambles go up and down, and Fanny supports him through everything. This makes up the bulk of Act II, interspersed with some sort of painful scenes from the Follies and tooooo many numbers with the mother and the yentas and Fanny’s friend Eddie who is in love with her and is soooo the token ‘nice guy’ who thinks that just because he isn’t an outright asshat he is entitled to the thing he’s being sort of ‘nice’ to. I did appreciate “Sadie Sadie Married Lady” if only because I’m currently doing a “Gilmore Girls” rewatch and that’s the name of the episode where Lorelai gets engaged (the first time) and Sookie sings a bit of it (side note, Sheridan looked just like Melissa McCarthy at points! So that was a plus), but in truth it is as horrifying as the rest of the show’s messages. The whole point is how lucky an unattractive woman (obviously she is not really unattractive, not that that matters, but this is how it’s presented) is to find a man, any man, who cares if he’s a shit, and she better lock him down before he realizes that she isn’t a model. Then, when Fanny reaches the heights of success and makes a lot of money, she shouldn’t be proud, she should be ashamed because it makes her dickless husband struggle with being dickless, and her ability to pay for everything he could ever want makes Nicky feel like she’s choking him? Nicky gets sent to jail because of shady business deals and embezzlement, but every single person in the whole show blames Fanny for his crimes, because having a successful wife forced him to commit crimes, pretty much. Nicky leaves her when he gets out of jail because he can’t be suffocated by a wife who is happy to support him, and Fanny and her mother don’t fight the accuracy of his statements. I mean. No. I get that this is old but come the f on Bridget. The moral of this show was literally telling women not to do anything with their lives that could lead to success because it might make your raisin-balled husband feel the sads about his raisins.
When these types of messages are put forward with no commentary, it’s problematic because many people have zero critical reasoning skills. People who are these intellectual blank slates will accept them and swallow them without a second thought and just nod and say okay this is okay, sure sure. Then people who are already terrible people or at least moonlight as terrible people will hear this overt support for outdated, dangerous, and harmful views and they’ll think oh okay, I can make this my day job now. It’s kind of like why I despise “SVU” for normalizing violence against women by showing so goddamn much of it. Even though they are showing it as ‘bad’ and perpetrators get ‘punished’ (maybe/sometimes/never), it still normalizes the occurrence and lets people continue to accept it as just how the world works, without any urging to change that foundational way of operating. Likewise, by having most of the drama rely on accepted forms of misogyny, “Funny Girl” perpetuates this misogyny as just how the world works and that we should follow their lead and not challenge that. I mean she sort of sings a reprise of “Don’t Rain on My Parade” at the end through her tears about Dicky Nicky leaving her but 30 seconds of ‘maybe one day I won’t care about him’ doesn’t make up for 2 and 1/2 hours of wimmins better stay in the kitchen.
What really bothers me is, well, several things. Fanny Brice was a real person, with an incredibly interesting life that is still remembered and revered by performers today. This main depiction of her is a great disservice to her memory, and that’s unbelievably sad and unfair. To say the creators took liberties with the facts is putting it lightly. “Funny Girl” is highly, highly fictionalized, and most of the horrible crap I’ve discussed is part of what was fictionalized. That means the creators of the original Broadway show implemented unnecessary, added misogyny. They thought ‘let’s make a show about this legend in show business, but because she’s a woman, let’s just show part of her success but then make most of the show about how she was so ugly that she thought she could never find a man, and then she meets Nicky and can’t believe her luck that a handsome man wants to be with her because come on all men want is someone pretty so she really is lucky but then she ruins everything because she makes money and gives him everything he wants and he doesn’t have much success and she shouldn’t support their family and be successful because that’s so mean and he feels totally emasculated which is the worst crime on earth and so she drives him into criminal behavior and he goes to jail and it’s all her fault obviously and everyone even her mother and even herself believe that Fanny is to blame for a totally separate fully functioning human being’s bad decisions and like women should just stay at home amiright.’ First of all, fuck all of that. Second of all, Fanny Brice, the real one, was married before she married Nicky Armstein. She was married. Yet the main action of the first act of the musical is every single person in her life absolutely kvelling because a man might actually not vomit at the sight of her! Praise Moses! Why, creators, did that strike you as the necessary change to make when rewriting Brice’s life for the stage? Did it just seem more realistic to you? More realistic than reality? To say ‘well she was no looker so instead of showing how she was so awesome and talented that it didn’t matter or that it doesn’t matter, let’s open with a number about how all actresses just need to be hot, and then make the whole show about how desperate she is for a man to notice her and how lucky she is that a good one does, but then she ruins him and makes him a bad one with her success, he wasn’t bad at the start it was her evil wimmin doings.’ I cannot wrap my brain about the thought process that takes an interesting life and makes it just another bullshit story about how desperate and awful women are.
Next, you know what else was fictionalized? Like everything about their relationship. Nicky was in jail BEFORE they got married – and he was actually married at the time to another woman. So he wasn’t this perfect specimen of a unicorn sent to make her less pathetic or anything; he was the pathetic convicted criminal cheating on his wife from the very start. Nicky happily took Fanny’s money even before they were married. His later gang activities didn’t lead him to turn himself in, as the musical says, as a result of his emasculation by not being able to support his family. No, he continued relying on Fanny’s money in order to fight the charges against him for years. That doesn’t not sound like someone who has a problem using his wife’s money, but I guess to the creators it sounded like someone who should have felt emasculated and ruined because he was letting someone without a penis pay for things.
Almost as importantly, there is no evidence I could find of Brice performing a hilarious wartime number in the Follies as a German Private Schvartz as she does in the musical, which I assume is what “Springtime for Hitler” was based on. It was probably the most painful song in a musical I’ve ever seen. Jfc. Why on earth was this part of “Funny Girl”? DO NOT UNDERSTAND.
God it’s hard reliving this. It’s really sad too because who doesn’t remember loving the movie with Barbra, and who doesn’t love all the famous songs? But at least as shown in this production – which as far as I can find is pretty true to the original musical – it’s disturbing and hugely problematic, especially as society seems to be entering a downturn in progressive views. And it’s not a bad production, the bones of it anyway. The costumes were fine, the lighting was fine, the acting was good. Actually, I remember feeling cheated by the simple choreography. But the story, my god the story. But the audiences are eating this shit up, which really upsets me. Do they just not care about the messages? Or are they in agreement? Do they not even realize what’s being said? Sheridan got many ‘bravos’ and a standing ovation, which a) should be brava and b) I think were for her personal life more than for her performance. She is a good actress, but this was not the role. I know I said some big musical roles don’t necessarily need a great singer if the acting is strong enough, but this show isn’t strong enough to do without a baller voice. But I was happy to see Sheridan after the summer she had. She is well known in the tabloids here, sadly, for fighting with the producers about needing time off when her father got very sick. Since producers only care about money, they allegedly didn’t give her the time she wanted or needed and she quickly unraveled mentally – including onstage. Some lucky ticket holders in the beginning of the summer got to see her perform drunk. Which, since British people are drunk all the damn time, maybe no one really noticed. Anyway, after that she took a few months off and her understudy Natasha Barnes took over. Apparently Natasha was amazing, with a much more appropriate voice for the role. I’m really happy that Sheridan seems to be okay now and getting what she needs, and none of my more substantial problems with the show have anything to do with her.
I honestly think that British people are liking this show because they are just laughing at the name Fanny (fanny is actually slang for vagina here, not kidding) and so they aren’t really paying attention to the story because every time someone says Fanny they cover their mouths and mutter ‘oh tee hee, a proper tee hee’. Really the best part of this show was a blue velvet dinner jacket that Nicky wears at one point.
* * *
AUDIENCE
I’m flabbergasted that they weren’t all horrified. I’m also still bothered by the woman in front of me who brought her 7-year-old daughter. Not only was I scared that this child was learning from the terrible messages of this show, but they also talked the entire time – not just the girl turning to ask questions, which kids do, but the ADULT who is supposed to be the role model for how to behave in the theatre was also turning to the girl every 2 seconds I’m pretty sure to say ‘DID YOU SEE THAT? DID YOU HEAR THAT?’ jfc.
THEATRE
Um. The bars were selling bagels. That’s super offensive, right? No, they don’t usually sell bagels; yes, I think it’s because this is a ‘jewish show’ to them. I don’t know whether to be more offended by that decision or by the quality of British bagels. The programmes were beautiful though (see picture).
I do have a problem with the theatre owners and the producers, not just here but with all West End shows. The opposite of Broadway’s policy, the policy here is that refunds are not issued if a star above the title is out. That means all the people who bought tickets to see Sheridan over the summer while she was out could not get their money back, as they can on Broadway when the star is out. There is a lotttttt of argument about this policy lately, with people saying that introducing such a policy would be unfair to understudies if people would leave when they were announced. But, in practice on Broadway, few people actually do this; it’s the ones who came only to see the star that really take advantage of it, or someone who already has seen the understudy and was trying again to get the star. The real concern is just that the producers don’t want to lose money. But that’s bullshit. I fully support Bway’s policy and wish that they had it here, because when a star like Sheridan is above the title, producers hike up the prices. If they are charging more because of a name, and then the name is out, you should get your money back if you want it, period. If they don’t want to give you your money back in those situations, then they need to stop having celebrity price hikes.
