Forget its illustrious history, just go and enjoy the excess of talent on display in an evening of nostalgia. The Gershwin melodies (“I Got Rhythm”, “They Can’t Take That Away from Me” to name but a tempting couple), the wit of their lyrics, Ken Ludwig’s improbable feel-good storyline in the best of Hollywood and Broadway traditions, Susan Stroman’s pacey direction and award-laden vigorous jazzy choreography, the dancing girls, the corny parodies, comic vaudevillian acting, and above all go for Charlie Stemp, the lead who holds it all together with charm, great comic timing, and indefatigable energy.
I can’t decide whether he’s a Fred Astaire or a Gene Kelly, and plump for both, though maybe with more of Astaire’s natural musicality, coupled with the pratfalls of a Donald O’Connor or a Marx Brother or Charlie Chaplin rolled into one. Yes, it’s of that era. Many in-jokes and references abound in good humour. Stemp carries the show with sparkling help from the thirty-two-strong cast, but it’s his night.
Or rather Bobby Child’s, a reluctant scion of a New York banking family who, sent to close it down, rescues a rundown theatre in tumbleweed Deadrock, Nevada, population 37, where the mining industry has collapsed. Revives the community with song and dance—anyone can dance, sing, play a musical instrument, or that failing, any old thing to hand. Is anyone from our political establishment in the celebrity-heavy press night audience tonight, I wonder, to see the therapeutic joy and viability of theatre?
Love conquers all. Though it’s not a straight path, it never is. The oddity for me is that Polly (Carly Anderson) falls for Bela Zangler of the Zangler Follies. But let me peel back. Bobby falls in instant love with Polly, whose father owns Deadrock’s Gaiety Theatre, now a post office. To win her, he pretends to be Zangler, but when the real Zangler turns up, well, silly girl, can’t she tell…
Tom Edden pulls all the hilarious stops out in his Hungarian émigré impresario role, whose audition theatre-mad Bobby once failed. In their Diaghilev white stripe on black hair wigs (yes Nijinsky’s name is given a nod), they make a marvellous drunken double act in a ‘Marx Brothers’ mirror scene, twitch perfect—“I am so upset I am beside myself”.
Zangler’s dancing girls come to Nevada to help Bobby put on the show, that no one comes to see. Their dances with the local hillbillies are dynamite, and ingenious. My favourite is “Slap That Bass’ (from Shall We Dance) where with bits of rope and stationary chorus girls a string band is formed.
Zangler, for the love of one of the chorus girls, makes Bobby’s dream a reality. And Bobby’s frustrated fiancée of seven years, Irene (Natalie Kassanga), who has sought him out in the West, falls for, and tames, the equally grumpy frustrated Lank (Mathew Craig), the local hotel and saloon bar keeper and Polly’s rebuffed suitor. Bobby’s tyrannical socialite mother (Marilyn Cutts) is pulled up short by the sight of Polly’s father (Duncan Smith)—another love match. Polly realises her error and all ends happily and neatly paired with a “Things Are Looking Up” finale.
Sophisticated art deco design and the homely, rundown outback is an infallible comedy mix. Beowulf Boritt’s set design takes in backstage at the Zangler Follies, the cowboy country ramshackle buildings made of corrugated iron (perfect for a tap dance number) and splintered wood panels, and the spangly stage in New York.
Where have we seen all this before? I’ll leave you to work it out. Many of the Gershwin numbers, some very familiar, some not, are pulled not only from the original 1930s Girl Crazy musical, but also from such shows as A Damsel in Distress, Oh Kay (“Someone to Watch Over Me”), and more.
The parade of Zangler lovelies in skimpy wear and glitzy silver high headdresses and pink frills (costumes William Ivey Long), the dungarees and theatre costumes for the country folk, who are not as dumb as they look, the finale wedding cake couple in black tie and white dress, tell as much of the story as the music and the clever lyrics.
The male dancers (Polly is the only female in Deadrock) are of varying size (big Moose—Marc Akinfolarin—is loveable) and with individual personalities (there’s the bookish one—Nicholas Duncan), but the most astonishingly acrobatic is Joshua Nkemdilim. The New York girls dazzle the local yokel boys and they return the favour.
To add to the fun there are the ‘Carry On’ British Fodors (of the travel books…), who turn up in Deadrock like creatures from another planet and make breakfast requests that dim Lank can’t deliver. Sam Harrison and Rina Fatania as Eugene and Patricia Fodor, the intrepid travellers in their khaki safari suits and sensible shoes, are on great double act form.
To say the audience is won over is an understatement. A standing ovation comes within the first few minutes, at the end of the first half, and, naturally, at the end.