Brighton, UK: The Great Moshimo Vegan Challenge More Challenged Than Greatby Randi / December 12, 2014
The “fun” starts even before the performance starts. Symbolizing the half-assed attempt at zaniness to come, the show curtain reads “Made In Dagenham” in kooky block letters in varying ‘60s flower power prints – as a random maid scrubs the edge of the stage. (I assume this person and/or action will factor in later. You know what happens when you assume!)
The curtain rises – to reveal the title still spelled out as it was! How is this possible! Oh, because they are giant Lucite block letters actually on the stage and in the house set. Big block letters used as random set pieces. Just like next to the main character’s bed and in her kitchen and pantry and stuff. Letters. In future scenes, random ‘A’ and ‘E’ 5-foot blocks will appear on the stage. I would love if someone explained why. My guess is because they wanted to distract us from thinking about how bad this show is.
“Made in Dagenham”, the new London musical inspired by the film of the same name, tells the true story of how female Ford factory workers in Dagenham fought for equal pay in 1968. That event, incredible and wonderful and inspiring as it is, should be perfect fodder for a musical. Unfortunately, the creative team didn’t deem the importance of this story important enough, and they made this musical adaptation with amateur and offensive music, beyond unnecessary book scenes, poor character development, lack of editing, and all-around crappiness.
You need a compelling reason to turn a story into a musical. That is step 1. It can’t just be because you want songs in your story. This show satisfied step 1. It’s a great idea for a musical! But step 2 is vital: The music and lyrics need to work. The music needs to enhance the storytelling, not replace it, and it definitely cannot drag the story down. Dagenham’s music brought the whole show crashing down.
It starts with Gemma Arterton, who may have been a Bond girl at one point but will now forever be haunted by “Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters”, at home with her oaf of a husband and her two little kids. She’s singing a song repeating that if you want anything done, you should ask a busy woman. And she irons and cleans and cooks and stuff. It sets the stage for the time period well, the height of women as housewives, but it doesn’t do anything for the story. The song is too lame, in lyrics and pacing, to open a show. Luckily, even though Gemma isn’t much of a singer, she has a lovely stage presence (and deserves better).
At breakfast, Gemma, as Rita O’Grady, tells her aspiring doctor of a young daughter to remember that girls are nurses, not doctors. Good start to the day! The book writer obviously meant for this opening remark to allow us to track Rita’s journey from brainwashed subordinate and housewife to brave gender equality pioneer. Great idea. However, we don’t see such a journey at all. The play shows Rita as timid and complacent in this struggle, and then all of a sudden she’s giving a rousing speech to Ford execs. There is absolutely no journey, no growth. Zero to sixty in half an act.
Of course it’s wonderful when Rita does stand up for women’s rights, but it comes out of nowhere. This is the main point of this show, her journey and her struggle, and it is missing. Any semblance of character development is hard to notice. And then all of a sudden Rita herself is leading the strike, going to neighboring towns to get their factory workers to strike with the Dagenham girls (it’s girls in this show, never women, which is important to demonstrate part of the struggle, but I don’t actually think this was deliberate).
The big ‘let’s all go on strike song’ is one of the saddest parts of the show. It’s the end of Act One, and it goes on for a good 10 minutes, but it’s completely lacking in energy, in wit, in anything positive. Rita is on top of moving stairs, singing ‘Everybody out!’ (the name of the song) over and over. People are dancing and holding signs and stuff below her, but it feels like nothing is happening. ‘Everybody Out’ works a few times when the accompanying lyrics are indeed about striking, but mostly it feels like advice for the audience.
I may have groaned the most during Act Two’s obligatory Things Are Getting Hard song. The strike is hurting everyone, and the girls are losing hope. So they sing a song called – I’m not kidding – “Storm Clouds Montage”. Characters say things to each other, different interactions occur, and in between each spotlight, the chorus sings “Storm clouds on the horizon, tension in the town.” Does it get any triter than that? It doesn’t. And this prolonged number is pretty much this line repeated over and over and overrrrrr again as other crap happens but you don’t even realize it because you are too stunned by this awful lyric that you know everyone thought was super sophisticated.
I would direct you to youtube videos of some of these songs, but just take the titles or lyrics I provide and try to sing them, and you will pretty much have the right melody on your first try. That’s apparently how this show was written. During most musical numbers, I was struck by how similar the songs were to those too long, forced-rhyme poems that bridesmaids and sisters always recite at bridal showers. You know the type. “As soon as we saw you and Dave together, we knew you would love each other through all kinds of weather.” That’s what this music is like. A lyric from one of these songs is (as far as I can remember) “I have no doubt, I know what this is all about.” They also rhyme ‘loads’ with ‘sod’ in a repeating motif. I have never groaned so much. Even during the Spice Girls musical, I was more in awe of its awfulness than in pain. Not the case here.
I don’t know how this music got the green light. Aside from the trite, childish lyrics, the music offers no new melodies. It’s all familiar. Worse yet, too many songs end with a crescendo into a key change, the most well-known device for tricking listeners into thinking a song is moving and powerful. They double up on the end-of-song power punch by having one of the girls belt some riffs all the freaking time, another trick. Both of these at the same time just look super desperate.
The book is a big old mess too. It makes me so sad that this wasn’t edited at all. This show is a first draft script, I am telling you. There are wayyy too many storylines occurring: 1) the strike, 2) Rita’s marital problems because her man isn’t okay with her fight, 3) Rita’s son being abused at school, 4) a Ford executive’s wife being bored as a housewife, 5) who ALSO has an abused son in the school, 6) the prime minister and his cabinet trying to stop the strike, 7) a new Secretary appointed to deal with the strike, 8) one of the girls dying of cancer one night after diagnosis. What the hell. First, obviously, the cancer bit was not done well at all; there is too much going on for that to feel anything but cheap. Also, there is absolutely NO reason for the school abuse thread. None at all. It’s such a waste of story telling that I still can’t believe it made the cut. It allows Rita to meet the exec’s wife, who helps their cause so much by lending Rita a dress to wear at her big speech, but they could have met much more simply. I can’t believe how stupid. The same goes for the prime minister. His only real purpose is to get cheap laughs from the audience by walking hunched over and making easy gross jokes. I had hopes that the new Secretary of Fighting the Unions, a woman, would help the factory workers in their fight, but she ends up being on the wrong side because she’s part of the government. Meaning, her plot line was entirely unnecessary. Her opposition doesn’t spur the strikers on even more or anything. It’s just empty.
For a show about fighting sexism, it’s surprisingly sexist. You could tell it was directed by men and that the book, music, and lyrics were also written by men. Somehow, they make a show about fighting for gender equality sexist. It’s quite a feat. In the first factory scene, when we get to meet all the female workers, all they talk about is sex. One woman asks everyone if they are ‘getting any’, and they make jokes and talk about it because all women can ever talk about is men, right? Apparently that’s what these writers think. It IS the only thing worth talking about right girls! Ugh. Worse, when they have their chance of telling the union leaders all the changes they want, their list goes: “equal pay, chocolate that doesn’t make you fat, perfume, the same rights as the male workers, and OH! more chocolate!” I’m not joking. Later, Rita gets a big tearjerker number when her husband leaves her because obviously the husband will leave once the wife starts doing something important that isn’t making him dinner. She cries instead of using some of her newfound strength to convince her husband and everyone else that the fight is important and that he should make his own dinner. It’s offensive that this tearjerker ballad is expected because it’s a female protagonist, NOT because of sexism back then but of sexism now. In other shows, male characters facing important struggles rarely get the tearjerker ballad about how nothing is important without their wives, yet for female characters it is nearly obligatory. I am sick of it.
What pushed me over the edge was the opening Act Two number “This is America”. Because the strike is causing the factory to lose money, the American Ford executives have to come over. They sing a song about how Americans get shit done and how English people, women, shorter men, and anyone who isn’t the main exec is a ‘faggot’. The guy says faggot at least 10 times. It is awful. But worse is the song, written solely for cheap laughs (that sadly they get a lot of) by making fun of Americans. It’s beyond offensive, not to me as an American but as a person who is alive on this earth. It’s one thing to make good-natured fun of Americans, with jokes as stale and tired as vegan jokes but good-natured and harmless mostly. It is quite another thing to include lyrics that actually are harmful, that forgo the promise to be good-natured and instead rely on ignorance. I don’t understand how the producers haven’t changed these lyrics yet. An army tank rolls in, all the chorus girls in camo bikinis holding machine guns. Gay jokes are made, women are reinforced as being for show. And at one point, the exec actually sings, “Our cops have guns and will blow you away.” Now. At this time. When cops are actually killing unarmed civilians with those guns, this piece of shit song in a piece of shit show IS STILL SINGING THIS LINE.
I wanted to like this show. Even though it was not good, I always always want plays to succeed. Even though it wasn’t great, I was still planning to tell people “Eh it’s not great but you’ll probably enjoy yourself.” But how the people behind this show could leave these lyrics in this song, knowing what is going on in America, I don’t understand. The producers never responded to my complaints about this line and others like it, and now I have no qualms calling bullshit. This is not okay. Another unarmed black man was shot by cops yesterday, did you see that? It’s in the news over here even. But don’t let that keep “Made In Dagenham” from laughing about it. And no, the lyrics in this song are not presented as a serious reflection on our society. They are included for laughs. And yes, the audience laughs. Shame on everyone involved until they make changes.
Also, that random maid? She shows up in most scenes in the background, cleaning things or just listening. It makes no sense. Piece. Of. Crap.
You need a compelling reason to turn a story into a musical. That is step 1. It can’t just be because you want songs in your story. This show satisfied step 1. It’s a great idea for a musical! But step 2 is vital: The music and lyrics need to work. The music needs to enhance the storytelling, not replace it, and it definitely cannot drag the story down. Dagenham’s music brought the whole show crashing down.
It starts with Gemma Arterton, who may have been a Bond girl at one point but will now forever be haunted by “Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters”, at home with her oaf of a husband and her two little kids. She’s singing a song repeating that if you want anything done, you should ask a busy woman. And she irons and cleans and cooks and stuff. It sets the stage for the time period well, the height of women as housewives, but it doesn’t do anything for the story. The song is too lame, in lyrics and pacing, to open a show. Luckily, even though Gemma isn’t much of a singer, she has a lovely stage presence (and deserves better).
At breakfast, Gemma, as Rita O’Grady, tells her aspiring doctor of a young daughter to remember that girls are nurses, not doctors. Good start to the day! The book writer obviously meant for this opening remark to allow us to track Rita’s journey from brainwashed subordinate and housewife to brave gender equality pioneer. Great idea. However, we don’t see such a journey at all. The play shows Rita as timid and complacent in this struggle, and then all of a sudden she’s giving a rousing speech to Ford execs. There is absolutely no journey, no growth. Zero to sixty in half an act.
Of course it’s wonderful when Rita does stand up for women’s rights, but it comes out of nowhere. This is the main point of this show, her journey and her struggle, and it is missing. Any semblance of character development is hard to notice. And then all of a sudden Rita herself is leading the strike, going to neighboring towns to get their factory workers to strike with the Dagenham girls (it’s girls in this show, never women, which is important to demonstrate part of the struggle, but I don’t actually think this was deliberate).
The big ‘let’s all go on strike song’ is one of the saddest parts of the show. It’s the end of Act One, and it goes on for a good 10 minutes, but it’s completely lacking in energy, in wit, in anything positive. Rita is on top of moving stairs, singing ‘Everybody out!’ (the name of the song) over and over. People are dancing and holding signs and stuff below her, but it feels like nothing is happening. ‘Everybody Out’ works a few times when the accompanying lyrics are indeed about striking, but mostly it feels like advice for the audience.
I may have groaned the most during Act Two’s obligatory Things Are Getting Hard song. The strike is hurting everyone, and the girls are losing hope. So they sing a song called – I’m not kidding – “Storm Clouds Montage”. Characters say things to each other, different interactions occur, and in between each spotlight, the chorus sings “Storm clouds on the horizon, tension in the town.” Does it get any triter than that? It doesn’t. And this prolonged number is pretty much this line repeated over and over and overrrrrr again as other crap happens but you don’t even realize it because you are too stunned by this awful lyric that you know everyone thought was super sophisticated.
I would direct you to youtube videos of some of these songs, but just take the titles or lyrics I provide and try to sing them, and you will pretty much have the right melody on your first try. That’s apparently how this show was written. During most musical numbers, I was struck by how similar the songs were to those too long, forced-rhyme poems that bridesmaids and sisters always recite at bridal showers. You know the type. “As soon as we saw you and Dave together, we knew you would love each other through all kinds of weather.” That’s what this music is like. A lyric from one of these songs is (as far as I can remember) “I have no doubt, I know what this is all about.” They also rhyme ‘loads’ with ‘sod’ in a repeating motif. I have never groaned so much. Even during the Spice Girls musical, I was more in awe of its awfulness than in pain. Not the case here.
I don’t know how this music got the green light. Aside from the trite, childish lyrics, the music offers no new melodies. It’s all familiar. Worse yet, too many songs end with a crescendo into a key change, the most well-known device for tricking listeners into thinking a song is moving and powerful. They double up on the end-of-song power punch by having one of the girls belt some riffs all the freaking time, another trick. Both of these at the same time just look super desperate.
The book is a big old mess too. It makes me so sad that this wasn’t edited at all. This show is a first draft script, I am telling you. There are wayyy too many storylines occurring: 1) the strike, 2) Rita’s marital problems because her man isn’t okay with her fight, 3) Rita’s son being abused at school, 4) a Ford executive’s wife being bored as a housewife, 5) who ALSO has an abused son in the school, 6) the prime minister and his cabinet trying to stop the strike, 7) a new Secretary appointed to deal with the strike, 8) one of the girls dying of cancer one night after diagnosis. What the hell. First, obviously, the cancer bit was not done well at all; there is too much going on for that to feel anything but cheap. Also, there is absolutely NO reason for the school abuse thread. None at all. It’s such a waste of story telling that I still can’t believe it made the cut. It allows Rita to meet the exec’s wife, who helps their cause so much by lending Rita a dress to wear at her big speech, but they could have met much more simply. I can’t believe how stupid. The same goes for the prime minister. His only real purpose is to get cheap laughs from the audience by walking hunched over and making easy gross jokes. I had hopes that the new Secretary of Fighting the Unions, a woman, would help the factory workers in their fight, but she ends up being on the wrong side because she’s part of the government. Meaning, her plot line was entirely unnecessary. Her opposition doesn’t spur the strikers on even more or anything. It’s just empty.
For a show about fighting sexism, it’s surprisingly sexist. You could tell it was directed by men and that the book, music, and lyrics were also written by men. Somehow, they make a show about fighting for gender equality sexist. It’s quite a feat. In the first factory scene, when we get to meet all the female workers, all they talk about is sex. One woman asks everyone if they are ‘getting any’, and they make jokes and talk about it because all women can ever talk about is men, right? Apparently that’s what these writers think. It IS the only thing worth talking about right girls! Ugh. Worse, when they have their chance of telling the union leaders all the changes they want, their list goes: “equal pay, chocolate that doesn’t make you fat, perfume, the same rights as the male workers, and OH! more chocolate!” I’m not joking. Later, Rita gets a big tearjerker number when her husband leaves her because obviously the husband will leave once the wife starts doing something important that isn’t making him dinner. She cries instead of using some of her newfound strength to convince her husband and everyone else that the fight is important and that he should make his own dinner. It’s offensive that this tearjerker ballad is expected because it’s a female protagonist, NOT because of sexism back then but of sexism now. In other shows, male characters facing important struggles rarely get the tearjerker ballad about how nothing is important without their wives, yet for female characters it is nearly obligatory. I am sick of it.
What pushed me over the edge was the opening Act Two number “This is America”. Because the strike is causing the factory to lose money, the American Ford executives have to come over. They sing a song about how Americans get shit done and how English people, women, shorter men, and anyone who isn’t the main exec is a ‘faggot’. The guy says faggot at least 10 times. It is awful. But worse is the song, written solely for cheap laughs (that sadly they get a lot of) by making fun of Americans. It’s beyond offensive, not to me as an American but as a person who is alive on this earth. It’s one thing to make good-natured fun of Americans, with jokes as stale and tired as vegan jokes but good-natured and harmless mostly. It is quite another thing to include lyrics that actually are harmful, that forgo the promise to be good-natured and instead rely on ignorance. I don’t understand how the producers haven’t changed these lyrics yet. An army tank rolls in, all the chorus girls in camo bikinis holding machine guns. Gay jokes are made, women are reinforced as being for show. And at one point, the exec actually sings, “Our cops have guns and will blow you away.” Now. At this time. When cops are actually killing unarmed civilians with those guns, this piece of shit song in a piece of shit show IS STILL SINGING THIS LINE.
I wanted to like this show. Even though it was not good, I always always want plays to succeed. Even though it wasn’t great, I was still planning to tell people “Eh it’s not great but you’ll probably enjoy yourself.” But how the people behind this show could leave these lyrics in this song, knowing what is going on in America, I don’t understand. The producers never responded to my complaints about this line and others like it, and now I have no qualms calling bullshit. This is not okay. Another unarmed black man was shot by cops yesterday, did you see that? It’s in the news over here even. But don’t let that keep “Made In Dagenham” from laughing about it. And no, the lyrics in this song are not presented as a serious reflection on our society. They are included for laughs. And yes, the audience laughs. Shame on everyone involved until they make changes.
Also, that random maid? She shows up in most scenes in the background, cleaning things or just listening. It makes no sense. Piece. Of. Crap.
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Jesus Hopped the “A” Train at London’s Young Vic: Lots and Lots of Words, but the Meaning Unclear
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is Jesus Hopped the “A” Train, playing at the Young Vic until April 6.
I love going into shows blind, knowing as little as possible about the plot or even what type of show it is. With Jesus Hopped the “A” Train, I have never been so surprised by a show’s subject matter. Even though the play is from 2000, I managed to miss it the first time-round (‘twas a child) and so with that intriguing title, my brain assumed it was about trains, and probably Jesus. It is not about trains, though it is sort of about Jesus, or religion in general. What Jesus, A Train! (best fake title) really is about is the horrors of the United States prison system, a subject that needs to be spoken about more and in harsher words. This play, by Stephen Adly Guirgis, definitely understands the need to denounce the broken system, but the result is more like a set of speeches than a play.
That’s great for actors preparing for auditions, since the monologues in this show are often powerful and seem important, perfect for showing off out of context. But it’s not great for a cohesive drama, with a plot, with a dramatic purpose. It’s two hours of monologues. Even the ‘dialogue’ between characters is, if you look closely, really a monologue followed by a one word response, lather rinse repeat. With this composing the show, you see that Guirgis had a lot of important things to say, a lot a lot, but without fitting these thoughts into a structured drama, it’s unclear what he’s actually saying.
As for the thin narrative, it’s about a young man who is imprisoned for shooting a despised cult leader, an act of violence that by all accounts is warranted, but vigilante justice isn’t rewarded when the perpetrator is a man of color. Following the imprisonment and trials of this young man, Angel Cruz, we see – no, we are told – how broken the American justice system is, how awful prison is, how unhinged prison guards are. This is all true, if not novel. But then Angel’s plight isn’t simply due to the system; it’s due to his shitty lawyer, Mary Jane Hanrahan, who shows off several times how bad a lawyer she is, with her most egregious, to me, mistake being her failure to share an offered plea deal with her client (I mean, literally gtfo). She also instructs him to lie without mincing her words, as you normally do, such that Angel breaks down in court and incriminates her and gets her disbarred. Which she deserves, sure, but why didn’t he get a mistrial? Why didn’t the court grant him another lawyer and trial? Why does Mary Jane also have SO. MANY. MONOLOGUES? The b.s. of the Mary Jane business was distractingly annoying.
So Angel is in Rikers with an amiable prisoner played by Oberon KA Adjepong. Oberon, as I’ll refer to him because I can’t remember the character’s name and there’s no way in hell it’s better than Oberon, is terrifying yet charismatic, the mark of a true serial killer – which, it turns out, he is! Oberon is hell-bent on saving Angel’s soul by getting him to find Jesus, as he himself has during his incarceration, and the two convicts have long, long-winded monologue-fights about what it means to seek forgiveness, what it means to find god, why it’s important. There are some nice thoughts bandied about in these scenes, but overall, the content is unfocused and unconvincing. Lucius (ah that’s his name! not as good as Oberon!) WAS A SERIAL KILLER. I don’t care how much you pray to god, you don’t deserve forgiveness. You joke still about how you killed more than eight people but they only caught you for eight, ha ha, and how some of them were white so they don’t count, ha ha, and you want to convince us that you deserve any semblance of forgiveness? Give me a g-d break! Are we supposed to connect with his rants about forgiveness and religion? Are they supposed to make us go, ‘hm that really makes you think’? Because instead, his monologues successfully make you agree that he deserved to die in prison. I guess all the Jesus talk could have been an interesting comparison between the lunatic killer’s belief that he’s going to be saved versus the kinder, gentler convict’s refusal to think that way, but what comes across is mere proselytizing that doesn’t land. Oberon was a captivating performer, save for the several moments he got tongue-tied, but with endless monologues to memorize, that’s forgivable, unlike the character he’s playing.
One of the worst, WORST, trends in London theatre this past year, is on full parade at Jesus, A Train. The Young Vic and director Kate Hewitt have decided to deafen, and annoy, its patrons by marking scene changes with a BANG! And I mean a loud forking BANG! I don’t know who decided this was the cool way to change scenes in London recently, but hear me now, fools: it is not. It doesn’t jar the audience in a thoughtful way, if that’s what you were going for; it doesn’t demarcate the difference between drama and reality, if that’s what you were going for; it doesn’t remind the audience of all the world’s troubles in a visceral way, if that’s what you were going for. All it does is forking PISS US OFF. It doesn’t help that that other favorite trend of London theatre is also in full use here: nonstop smoking. This isn’t the ‘50s, guys; it doesn’t do much to define a character to have him smoking the entire play. It’s just silly.
The bright spot is Ukweli Roach as Angel Cruz, who I would have sworn was American. Ukweli captures that difficult role of being a tough young man capable of, well, killing, who also is incredibly sympathetic. Unlike for Lucius, you do feel that Angel deserves better than he got, which is a huge feat considering how little the actor actually gets to play with. Guirgis has created such defined characters, but he doesn’t use them to their fullest potential to convey whatever it is he’s actually trying to say.
INFORMATION
Jesus, A Train! is playing at London’s Young Vic until April 6. It is two hours, with a 15-minute intermission, which is the best kind of show structure. If you go, bring ear plugs and a face mask. It is in the round, another overused, under-considered ploy of this year.
Violet at the Charing Cross Theatre: Nice Production of an Average Show
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is the musical Violet, playing at London’s Charing Cross Theatre until April 6.
Violet, the 1997 musical by Jeanine Tesori and Brian Crawley, is pretty different as far as stories go: there kind of isn’t one. It’s more of a character study of our titular gal and two supporting men. The score is completely mixed, with some incredible songs and some that should have been cut, or at least cut in half, so the show depends entirely on a superstrong production in order to succeed. When I first saw Violet, it was the 2014 Broadway production with Sutton Foster and Joshua Henry, and it was so shiny and bright and impressive that I barely noticed that a compelling story was missing. With smaller productions, like the current one at the Charing Cross theatre, it’s harder to hide the show’s flaws. Although it’s a pretty nice production with some great talent, it’s clear that Violet is a rather mediocre show – decent and sweet, but mediocre – and there’s nothing anyone can do to hide it without the distraction of Broadway excess.
Violet, the 1997 musical by Jeanine Tesori and Brian Crawley, is pretty different as far as stories go: there kind of isn’t one. It’s more of a character study of our titular gal and two supporting men. The score is completely mixed, with some incredible songs and some that should have been cut, or at least cut in half, so the show depends entirely on a superstrong production in order to succeed. When I first saw Violet, it was the 2014 Broadway production with Sutton Foster and Joshua Henry, and it was so shiny and bright and impressive that I barely noticed that a compelling story was missing. With smaller productions, like the current one at the Charing Cross theatre, it’s harder to hide the show’s flaws. Although it’s a pretty nice production with some great talent, it’s clear that Violet is a rather mediocre show – decent and sweet, but mediocre – and there’s nothing anyone can do to hide it without the distraction of Broadway excess.
Based on a short story called “The Ugliest Pilgrim” by Doris Betts, which is a terribly sad title for anything, especially when pilgrim was one of my nicknames growing up so like ahh don’t call me that and really don’t call anyone that, Violet tells the story of a woman named Violet who was horribly disfigured as a young girl in an ax accident. An ax-ident! Oh fun! I mean not fun that she or anyone was disfigured by an ax but I mean come on, ax-ident, wonderful. Violet has grown up with everyone staring and shuddering at her horrible face, and all she wants is to be beautiful or to at least get through a day without some stranger looking at her and convulsing in horror. The actress playing Violet never has any prosthetics or makeup or anything to show her injury; it’s just the actress unadorned, which I love. You have to use your imagination and also it’s probably saying something super deep about how all our problems are inside our minds although Violet’s really weren’t, she had like a cheek split in two. Violet decides to get help from the one man in America who can help her – the big television preacher man. Obviously he’s full of shit but Violet needs to believe that someone out there can help her, and just it’s a shame that she puts all her faith in a swindler megachurch pastor kind of guy.
So the plot is, Violet leaves her farm in North Carolina and gets on a long bus journey to Oklahoma to find the preacher at his next big television extravaganza where he will swindle more poor stupid people out of their hard-earned cash and give them false hope. She boards the bus with two army dudes, Flick and Monty, as well as a nosy old lady, lots of people who shudder at her face as per usual, and if they were going to Tulsa I’m guessing Chandler? As everyone boards the bus and begins their own journeys, they sing the first big ensemble number, “On My Way”, which is truly excellent in this production. All the voices swelled together and the movement was right on, and it doesn’t hurt that it’s one of the better, catchier songs in the show. It’s the kind of big joyous full company song in a show that makes your heart swell. It’s right in the beginning, so I was like ‘oh wow this is going to be amazing’, but this was the best moment of the show. After they all board and eat their best snacks, I guess, they just like…sit on the bus and play cards and get to know each other and then they get to Oklahoma. We watch people suffer on a long bus journey where I bet they don’t get to pee very often and it was probably so stuffy and everyone smelled bad and you’re surviving on like gas station packaged snacks and all you want is a salad and for the love of god a bathroom. At certain points in the play the bus driver will be like ‘okay that’s five minutes for your rest stop!’ and SOME PEOPLE DON’T GO TO THE BATHROOM like I get that it wouldn’t be a great show to be realistic like that but thinking about long buses and NOT going to the bathroom when you need to made me super anxious.
So the plot is, Violet leaves her farm in North Carolina and gets on a long bus journey to Oklahoma to find the preacher at his next big television extravaganza where he will swindle more poor stupid people out of their hard-earned cash and give them false hope. She boards the bus with two army dudes, Flick and Monty, as well as a nosy old lady, lots of people who shudder at her face as per usual, and if they were going to Tulsa I’m guessing Chandler? As everyone boards the bus and begins their own journeys, they sing the first big ensemble number, “On My Way”, which is truly excellent in this production. All the voices swelled together and the movement was right on, and it doesn’t hurt that it’s one of the better, catchier songs in the show. It’s the kind of big joyous full company song in a show that makes your heart swell. It’s right in the beginning, so I was like ‘oh wow this is going to be amazing’, but this was the best moment of the show. After they all board and eat their best snacks, I guess, they just like…sit on the bus and play cards and get to know each other and then they get to Oklahoma. We watch people suffer on a long bus journey where I bet they don’t get to pee very often and it was probably so stuffy and everyone smelled bad and you’re surviving on like gas station packaged snacks and all you want is a salad and for the love of god a bathroom. At certain points in the play the bus driver will be like ‘okay that’s five minutes for your rest stop!’ and SOME PEOPLE DON’T GO TO THE BATHROOM like I get that it wouldn’t be a great show to be realistic like that but thinking about long buses and NOT going to the bathroom when you need to made me super anxious.
While Violet (Kaisa Hammarlund) rides the bus and writes in her mama’s old bible, she thinks about how she’s gonna be beautiful and remembers her 14-year-old self, which is when the ax-ident happened. Violet and Young Violet (a maybe 11-year-old looking girl who did not look 14 and whose attempt at an American accent, I’m sorry, was literally this) sing and swirl around the stage (in the round for kind of no reason) together as Violet remembers her younger self, the poor girl she’s trying to save from a lifetime of misery. Meanwhile, both Monty (Matthew Harvey) and Flick (Jay Marsh) for some reason fall for Violet, Flick in what we’re to assume is a deeper, real love kind of way and Monty, because he’s more of a playboy, in a less real way. And here’s the problem. This horribly disfigured girl has two eligible men fall in love with her like immediately? Um. Our Violet, Hammarlund, was remarkable in the Young Vic’s production of Fun Home last summer, and she’s very talented and always enjoyable, but here she didn’t feel like a good fit. Her Violet is kind of/super annoying. And maybe Violet just is annoying always, but then why are these two random guys falling for her? It sort of worked when Violet was Sutton Foster because she is so gosh darn charming and disarming and adorable but I just didn’t feel any reason for the romances here. It doesn’t help that Hammarlund is tortured with a horrendous wig that like someone should be fired for so you’re extra curious why these men are obsessed with her.
Another big issue in that regard is, the audience is clearly supposed to want her to choose Flick, a solid, steady man who gets the biggest bestest song in the show, “Let it Sing”, and our Flick did a fine job with it. Monty is supposed to be this womanizer who only wants to sleep with her, so we are supposed to root for Violet to turn him down. But…Monty shows no signs of not being serious about her. He seems fine. Since he’s fine, there’s no drama at all in her choice. Maybe that makes more sense because that’s how real life is, with decisions that could easily go in either direction – you’d rarely have trouble deciding between two options where one is clearly great and one is clearly bad. But then to make this supposed drama of her love triangle one of the driving forces of the show means it all falls flat. The show is all ‘Monty’s a cad he’s going to desert you he just wants a piece of ass’ but then everything Monty does contradicts that. Sure Flick is probably the better choice overall but still, there’s no obvious reason for it, at least not in this production. You’re supposed to feel that theirs is real love, I guess, but there’s no evidence of it. And with the focus of the show being on the relationships between these characters, to find it not fully fleshed out enough to suffice as the only real story is disappointing.
Aside from the barely-there plot and the score that seemed unedited (why does the preacher’s big show rehearsal need to be so g-d long? He’s not important!), it’s still a sweet, good-natured show and a nice time. The three main characters are likable and relatively interesting, and there are enough great songs to keep this moving. Two ladies in the supporting cast, who get to show off as night club singers and actors in the preacher’s show, are incredible vocalists and it’s a real treat to hear them sing, even though the night club was repeated over and over to be a jazz club and none of the music was jazz. It’s a solid production, but I don’t think there’s any way to cover up the flaws.
INFORMATION
Violet is playing at the Charing Cross Theatre (under the arches by Embankment) until April 6. They said it was 90 minutes, one act, but it was an hour 50 minutes!!! Were they trying to make us feel like we were on the bus and couldn’t stop for a bathroom?! It says now that it’s 100 minutes but like still that is inaccurate.
