My 2011 theatrical exploits, while not as numerous as I’d like, have been enjoyable on the whole and happily have involved the West End, the London and Edinburgh Fringes and Broadway. In an attempt to summarise I have come up with a few arbitrary and inconsistent categories into which to put some of the shows I’ve seen. And here they are:
The show I wish I’d seen
I’d heard so much about the Landor’s production of Ragtime, from various sources. But for reasons unknown I didn’t try to book until it was too late, with all performances selling out well in advance of the run’s end. I asked friends to kindly tone down their praise of the show if they had tickets and followed the Landor’s Twitter account to maybe get a cheeky return, only to be treated to regular tweets telling people not to show up hoping for anything of the sort, owing to just how very sold out it was. Oh well.
The news that it’s coming to the Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre in 2012 eases my self-loathing slightly, but I can’t shake the feeling that this production was the one that got away.
The show I shouldn’t have bothered with
A musical based around Catch Me If You Can, rather like a Shaznay Lewis solo career, seemed like a good idea at the time. A fun, well-known story, some hugely accomplished performers with inbuilt fanbases (Next to Normal’s Aaron Tveit and Wicked’s Norbert Leo Butz) and a score by Hairspray’s Marc Shaiman & Scott Wittman: just what could go wrong?
What should have been a delightful romp struck me as a pretty clunky, poorly-paced and overlong slab of hokey old tat. Harsh maybe, and I think I’m looking less fondly on it in retrospect but to say I enjoyed it would be an overstatement. It didn’t help that the show’s best song ‘Fly, Fly Away’ was sung by Kerry Butler, a performer whose bizarre vocal technique takes nasality to new depths. Its closure was a blessing, unfortunately but inevitably for all concerned.
The show I can’t make up my mind about
Pippin, you’re up. I didn’t know anything about the show going in – not even Corner of the Sky, which is apparently some ubiquitous and so-common-everyone-hates-it audition song (must cross it off my New Audition Songs list in that case) – and I was excited to see it. Excitement turned swiftly into awe (the opening and visual effects throughout), confusion (the plot happened) and then mutated into a WTF frenzy (basically everything) with a generous helping of delight (outstanding choreography) and a final flourish of exhilaration (it ended and so stopped hurting my brain), and so I found myself staggering out into the night in a daze, wondering if it was very very good or very very bad. I’m almost certain it’s the former but certain factors (several snooty reviews, my companion who took strongly against it) are niggling at me in favour of the latter. There’s only one thing for it: definitely going again.
I am also struggling to make up my mind about Ghost, incidentally. Pros: the glorious Caissie Levy, five or six of the songs, the genuinely amazing special effects and Richard Fleeshman, I suppose, especially while topless. Cons: The several awful songs, Sharon D. Clarke (I’m a lone dissenting voice as far as I can tell but no thanks Shaz!), the pointless ensemble, the ‘hey look I made words rhyme’ lyrics (“I don’t believe it, it’s so SAD / Where are the good times we once HAD”), the dialogue-overload Cast Recording. Stuff like that.
The best Broadway show I saw in 2011
The Book of Mormon. My Book of Mormon story, because we’ve all got one right, is that I booked early and got centre Dress Circle (or Mezzanine if you’re one of those Americans) tickets at a discount, about $75 if I remember correctly. That would be literally impossible now, of course. You’ll pay $350 for the corner of the last row and be grateful. And of course it’s fantastic. But it feels redundant to say that after all the praise it’s gotten so let me say that I also enjoyed How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying and ensemble member/Dance Captain/general all-round hunk Charlie Williams: if you’re reading this, call me.
