It was only once I'd taken my seat at the Noel Coward Theatre that I realised I'd seen something odd out on the street. The 'house full' sign – which was proudly stood on show – wasn't your usual dusty old board that theatre managements grudgingly drag out when full – no, no. This 'house full' sign was custom-made for the show; a confident, bright yellow board surrounded by pictures of the Broadway cast. The significance of such a sign quietly symbolises much about Avenue Q; not just that the attention to detail on stage is of prime importance outside as well, but the sign also represents how confident the producers are that they have a hit on their hands - that they chose to pay for a sign to celebrate that fact. And thank God they did – this is one show that's going to need it..
Yep, with all guns blazing, the loud, brash, crude puppet phenomenon of Avenue Q hops over the pond to London's West End. When it announced it was going to transfer I was sceptical – as were many others, including the writers – about how such a show would transfer. As quintessentially New York as it gets, Avenue Q satirises a staple part of American culture – Sesame Street, a programme which is no longer shown on mainstream British TV. "The sun is shining, it's a lovely day" we hear in the overture, and quickly we accustom our ears to the upbeat tones so associated with children's TV. So far so American. "But you've got lots of bills to pay, what can you do?". And suddenly a chord is struck within, and I realise that underneath the quirky American tones is a universal show for all - regardless of nationality - and so begins our journey through porn, bills, break-ups, racism, mix-tapes, sex and sluts.
The beauty of Avenue Q lies in its effortless simplicity; simplicity about our everyday lives but put on a stage and sung. 'The Internet is for Porn', 'Everyone's a Little Bit Racist' and 'Schadenfreude' all offer acute observations about our relationship with society, but it's captured beautifully within the small microcosm of a fictional street in New York, a street that's inhabited by puppets and people with problems. There's Princeton (Jon Robyns), a recent college graduate ('what do you do with a BA in English?', he asks in the opening number) who's desperate to find his purpose in life. Kate Monster (Julie Atherton), a kindergarten teacher, who longs to run a school for monsters and is always on the look out for love. Rod (also Jon Robyns), a Republican investment banker and closeted homosexual lives alongside his roommate Nicky (Simon Lipkin), whom he fantasises about in his sleep, and then there are the humans who live alongside the puppets: Gary Coleman (Giles Terera), a former TV star turned poverty-stricken superindendent, Christmas Eve (Ann Harada), a Japanese therapist, and her husband Brian (Sion Lloyd), currently unemployed but with dreams of being a comedian.
It's a puppet show, sure, but this is no Punch and Judy. The puppets are playing people, yet the people are playing puppets. You never know who to watch – the actors are giving such wonderful expressions, yet the puppets are funny in themselves as well, reduced versions of ourselves if you will; scratching their heads, yawning, laughing. Rick Lyon's beautifully constructed puppets – each with a tremendous layer of detail – are excellently manipulated by all the actors involved, and Jason Moore manages impeccable direction of his actors despite the fact they have never operated puppets like this before. There is a high level of attention to detail in both the design and direction; nothing is by chance. If Sesame Street tries to teach children morals and messages, the puppets in Avenue Q offer a welcome reminder that actually, we all have the same problems in life and we'll be okay in the end.
