When I saw that the Young Vic were showing the new, shaken-up Broadway version of Oklahoma! I knew it was something I had to see. Oklahoma! is one of my favourite musicals but you can never overlook the dark, violent prejudice and savagery that lurks just a little under the surface. The Chichester production from 2019 brought out all the joy of the show whilst exposing a lot of its iffy underbelly. Daniel Fish’s new production goes deeper, and a lot of what it reveals is truly horrific. But it’s also jam-packed with the humour that has always been a mainstay of this musical.
You know the show is going to be disturbing even before it starts. The transformed Young Vic auditorium is ablaze with bright light; the band sit at one end of the stage area, whilst trestle tables laden with cans of beer (that get consumed) and crockpots of chilli (that don’t) line along either side of the acting area and – for the first act – along the middle. The actors sit with their backs to us until it’s their time to join in the show. Unusually for a musical the programme doesn’t list the musical numbers, so unless you know the show intimately you don’t know what’s coming next or whereabouts in the sequence of scenes you are. You might assume from this that the music takes second place in the show’s priorities – but that’s not the case. The music is vital to the show, and frequently adds to the sense of irony and discord that permeates Daniel Fish’s vision for the production. Tom Brady’s band takes Rodgers and Hammerstein’s sumptuous score and give it a modern twist; less Broadway 1943, more country guitar-heavy, but still with stunning singing from the cast who harmonise together exquisitely, with passion and power.
The iconic opening, where Curly sings Oh What a Beautiful Morning off stage whilst Aunt Eller churns butter, now has Curly onstage accompanying himself on his own guitar whilst Aunt Eller silently looks away with the rest of the cast. In fact, gone are the Curly and Laurey of yore, the adorable young couple who win your heart, and whom you want to see living happy ever after at the end. Arthur Darvill’s Curly is vain and arrogant; his swagger barely conceals his scorn for his surroundings, and you get the sense he’s more isolated, not really part of the community; you wouldn’t believe anyone who says he’s their friend. However, this characterisation is juxtaposed with his surprisingly delicate and eloquent singing voice. Anoushka Lucas’ Laurey, on the other hand, is temperamental and sullen; she bats Curly’s approaches away as though he were just another “typical man” for whom she has neither time nor interest – until things start to get physical, at any rate. If and when this Curly and Laurey get together you feel that the sparks will fly in their relationship and not always in a good way.
Where the show is much more traditional is in the representation of the four comedy characters, Ado Annie, Will Parker, Ali Hakim and Gertie Cummings, each one played sublimely. Rebekah Hinds gets Gertie’s irritating cackle perfectly, and suggests a superb smugness whenever she gets her way over anything (or anyone). Stavros Demetraki is hilarious as Hakim, desperately trying to put more money Will’s way so that he can be freed from his commitment to Ado Annie. James Davis, who played Will in this production on Broadway, brilliantly portrays just how utterly stupid the character is, constantly infuriating himself with his own mistakes.
Although she has a lot of stage credits to her name, I’ve never seen Marisha Wallace before, but I was blown away by just how fantastic she is as Ado Annie. Filling the theatre with the most powerful and beautiful of voices, she has immense stage presence and injects everything the character does with just the right amount of comedy, as well as perfect interplay with the audience. Her performance of I Cain’t Say No is the true highlight moment of the show. All the way through, I couldn’t wait for her next appearance because she lights up the stage with such genuine pleasure. Simply marvellous!
I hardly recognised Greg Hicks as Andrew Carnes; if you’ve seen this role played as a lovable old rogue before, think again. Mr Hicks makes him a truly hard man. No sense of humour or kindness; a man who thinks with his gun first then might reflect afterwards (or might not). He’ll aim his barrels at anyone who dallies with his daughter; I thought he was going to blast a few heads off early on and finish the show before the interval. Liza Sadovy’s Aunt Eller is another characterisation that feels more remote and detached from the community, until, at least, she’s in charge of the auction of lunch baskets. There’s excellent support from Raphael Bushay as Mike and Ashley Samuels as Cord Elam; their hesitations at supporting the decision of Judge Andrew towards the end spoke volumes. But the whole cast does a great ensemble job, with terrific singing and dancing – a lot of full-bodied hard-floor thumping to get a resoundingly noisy beat effect.
One of many fascinating directorial decisions in the show – some of which work, and some don’t – is the characterisation of Jud Fry. It’s in the characters’ dealings with Jud that this show gets particularly uncomfortable. Jud is usually portrayed as a loner. Papering his bedroom walls with soft porn to make him seem like a worthless wretch, picking on his learning difficulties, or sometimes on his ethnicity, he’s often seen as the antithesis of Curly, who’s All-American Hero in comparison to Pore Jud. However, Patrick Vaill (who also played the role on Broadway) presents us with a very different Jud. He’s passive, quiet, unemotional; determined but unthreatening, and probably no more of an outsider than Curly is. Rather than being the monster or ogre that he’s normally portrayed, this Jud is just another guy. And that makes Curly’s persecution of him strangely more uncomfortable – other than the fact that Curly’s a bully and wants nothing and no one to stand in his way.
So here’s the first directorial decision that I really didn’t understand. The two scenes where Curly intimidates and interrogates Jud are played in total blackout. All you can follow is by what you hear the two men say to each other. No visual cues, no facial expressions, no physical movement. Apart from the fact that it puts the audience in an uncomfortable, vulnerable position as well, it acts as a barrier to communication; and you can feel the built-up energy of the show quickly sap away as the scene progresses. The fact that you can’t see Curly and Jud’s interactions means that you can’t really understand what goes on between them. And whilst we have seen Curly in action several times during the show, Jud’s presence has only been very minimal, apart from in these two scenes – where you can’t see him! After a while, a camera projects Jud’s image onto the back wall during the song Pore Jud is Daid, but it’s distorted and artificial, and by that time I was so exasperated at being literally kept in the dark that I resented this piece of direction. I felt it was disrespectful to the audience. <rant>Rather like the moment when Ali Hakim unnecessarily and totally out of character sprays beer (actually water but we weren’t sure) over some members of the audience, including Mrs Chrisparkle. She was genuinely concerned it might have ruined her new leather jacket. It would have done if it was beer. The poor man next to her was soaked. Come on, Young Vic, treat us like adults! This isn’t a panto! </rant>.
Odd decision number 2 coming up: it’s always difficult to incorporate the dream ballet sequence in the show. Nowadays it doesn’t fit in with our expectations and comes across as a purely historical interlude that the show would be better off cutting out. However, if you keep it in, it has to be relevant. It’s Laurey’s dream, so it should be performed by Laurey. If it has a meaning, it’s to process her anxieties regarding her forthcoming marriage to Curly. So I’m afraid I didn’t enjoy the dream dance sequence in this production at all. Nothing against Marie-Astrid Mence who throws herself brilliantly into John Heginbotham’s frankly ugly and irrelevant choreography and moves in time with the ghastly distorted musical accompaniment that’s brash, discordant and way too loud. And my word, did it go on….!
There is a third directorial decision that works well – but, good grief, is it horrible! I’m not going to give the game away too much because the shock of the staging is vital to the show’s effect. I knew that Curly was going to shoot Jud near the end – he always does, it’s part of the plot. What I wasn’t expecting was the physical aftermath, both in the actual appearance of the characters and in their change of demeanour. When Curly leads the cast for what is normally the final, triumphant rendition of the title song, so shocked is he at what has happened that he is literally like a zombie. His mouth is singing the words, his hands are strumming the guitar, but the soul inside has gone awol. Laurey joins in with demented fury, eyes on stalks, stamping and shouting like Lady Macbeth on an acid trip.
But this is the message that the show wants to send. The action takes place at the time when Oklahoma was all set to be the next state of the union. You’re doing fine, Oklahoma, goes the uplifting, unforgettable melody, as the state triumphantly sails into the next century. This show points out that the rot has already set in. There’s nothing fine about this Oklahoman society, riddled with injustice and corruption, hatred and contempt. What is normally a sweet ending is rendered bitterly sour. And the production is hugely successful at revealing this ugly truth.
But if you’re a fan of the traditional show like me, even though you appreciate its dark undercurrent and murky prejudices, watching this production left me feeling physically nauseous. My stomach was frappéd like I’d been involved in the Oklahoma Chain Saw Massacre. By far the majority of the audience stood to give it a rapturous ovation, and I completely understand why; but I was rooted to the spot, giving a slowish handclap in disbelief at what I had seen. I’m writing this five days after seeing the show and I can still feel that sense of horror and destruction that this production has created in me. I can only say that you must see this show for yourself to truly appreciate what it reveals. It’s on until 25th June, but this is too much of a landmark production for it to stop there. I only wonder if there will ever be space for a traditional Oklahoma! again.
Production photos by Marc Brenner
Four They’re Jolly Good Fellows!
Another mixed programme of contemporary dance, including favourite dancers Catherine Becque, Ikky Maas, Lucy Bethune and Michael Clark. The four dances performed were Christopher Bruce’s Preludes and Song, Richard Alston’s Rainbow Ripples and Antony Tudor’s Judgment of Paris and Dark Elegies. Having seen Rainbow Ripples, my friend Mike spent the best part of the next 25 years occasionally breaking into the meaningless Rainbow Bandit. Rainbow Chuck Bandit. Chuck Bandit. And so on. As always, a terrific night of dance.
OUDS’ production of Lark Rise was performed in promenade just like the National Theatre version, directed by Tim Whitby and with music composed by Oscar-winner-to-be Rachel Portman. My friend Mark played Boamer and Cheapjack; elsewhere in the cast list was Chris Bryant who has been MP for Rhondda since 2001. Can’t remember much else about it.
Chekhov’s great play given the OUDS treatment with a top quality cast that not only included my friend Mark as Kulygin, but also had Jon (now Jonathan) Cullen as Prozorov, a young Imogen Stubbs as Irina (her first stage performance, I believe), and political philosopher Adam Swift as Fedotik. I remember this was a stonkingly good production and all the young actors acquitted themselves tremendously well.
This was the first time I got to see the Dear Ladies themselves in this hilarious two-hander revue where Doctor Evadne Hinge spent most of the time with her nose out of joint as she accompanied the frequently insensitive Dame Hilda Bracket as she soprano’d her way through some long- and best-forgotten pieces. Hinge and Bracket were an incredibly inventive and creative drag act who could target their material at both the liberals in the Theatre and the more conservative listeners to Radio 4. I guess their humour didn’t suit everyone but I always found them completely hysterical and I loved every minute of this show. As they spied a guy nipping off to the Gents during the show they inquired after his wellbeing and on his return asked him “Could you hear us?” When he said he couldn’t, Doctor Evadne threw back “oh…. We could hear you”. Comedy genius. I saw all these Christmas holidays shows by myself, no one else wanted to come out and play, sadly!
Harold Fielding’s production of this much-expected show received a barrage of bad reviews and by the time I saw it, three weeks into the run, it was already on its last legs, and it’s not been seen since. Shame really, as it’s not a bad show and it has some great songs, about the crises faced by performers who were big stars in the days of silent movies but when the talking pictures came in – unfortunately their voices were not up to the job. Sheila White played Mary Pickford, the Biograph Girl herself, but on the night I was there I overheard some important-looking people muttering and grumbling to themselves that “she’s refusing to go on” “she won’t listen to reason” and such like. Sure enough, that night (and I believe on many nights) Mary Pickford was played by her understudy. Directed by Victor Spinetti and also featuring Allo Allo’s Guy Siner as Mack Sennett, I quite enjoyed it despite everything; Put it in the Tissue Paper is a genuine tearjerker and the title track is a banger!
Courtesy of the Haymarket Theatre Leicester, this rip-roaring spectacular production of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s landmark musical was directed by none other than Hammerstein’s son James, and starred Australian John Diedrich as Curly and Rosamund Shelley as Laurey. Madge Ryan as Aunt Eller, and, perhaps most interestingly, Alfred Molina played Jud. I enjoyed it, but at this stage of my life I found episodes like the long dream ballet sequence relentlessly tedious. It would take several decades to change that opinion!
Another two-show day, Robert Gillespie’s production of J B Priestley’s classic time play had only opened three days before I saw it, and I found it absolutely riveting. As a result of seeing this, I went out and bought the text to all Priestley’s plays, but this one is probably my particular favourite. An excellent cast was led by Jennifer Daniel and Clive Francis. Not much more needs to be said!
David Storey’s latest play had opened at the National earlier in the year and finally received its West End transfer in time for Christmas. Ralph Richardson led the cast, which also included Gerald Flood, and it was directed by the redoubtable Lindsay Anderson. Sir Ralph played a retired MP who was drifting into dementia and was being looked after by his increasingly irritable family. A very sad and moving play given some great performances.
A cracking show with a brilliant production that had come from the Half Moon Theatre in Whitechapel (now, sadly, a pub). Denis Lawson and Sian Phillips led the cast in this story of a despicable but lovable louse, and the women he mistreats as he scrambles his way to what he thinks is the top – by which time there’s no one left to love him. Brilliant songs (and an excellent cast album which I still play often) made this a must-see production at the time. Notable for its reinstated original lyrics for Bewitched Bothered and Bewildered, plus entertaining references to Ravel’s Bolero and Ronald Reagan, to give it a modern twist. Wonderful supporting performances from Danielle Carson as Linda, Darlene Johnson as Melba, and all the night club girls (Jane Gurnett, Buster Skeggs, Lynne Hockney, Kay Jones, Susan Kyd and Tracey Perry). Funny, musical and enormously entertaining.
A student production, which was an original adaptation of Jean Cocteau’s film Orpheus for stage. I regret I can’t remember too much about it, although it featured my friends Linda and Andrew, and starred Wally Upton and Helen Dodds in the main roles.
During their Spring Tour of 1981 the London Contemporary Dance Theatre dropped in at the New Theatre Oxford to present two premieres and a five-year-old dance. The programme started with Robert North’s Death and the Maiden, which has lasted long in many dance repertories; then Siobhan Davies’ Something to Tell, and finally the return of Robert Cohan’s Masque of Separation. The superb company included favourites such as Robert North himself, Janet Smith (who would go on to launch her own excellent dance company), Darshan Bhuller, who’s had an extraordinarily successful career in dance, and Kenneth Tharp, “merely” the Apprentice, currently CEO of the Africa Centre London.
When I should have been revising hard for my finals, (a comment that applies to this and the next six productions) I saw this comedy by Stanley Price which later was developed into a TV series. It had a great cast to include Penelope Keith, Peter Jeffrey, Roger Lloyd Pack, Barbara Ferris and Miranda Richardson, but I felt it needed to be funnier than it actually was. Nevertheless, it was an entertaining night at the theatre.
Edna O’Brien’s play about Virginia Woolf, taken from the author’s own writings, starred Maggie Smith as Virginia, Nicholas Pennell as Leonard and Patricia Connolly as Vita. As a student of literature, I had often tried, but largely failed, to get into the works of Virginia Woolf and I’m afraid this thoroughly boring play didn’t help matters at all. A delight of course to see Maggie Smith in the flesh, but that was all.
Arthur Miller’s brilliant play that aligns the Salem Witch Trials with American McCarthyism was given a very strong outing in this National Theatre production by Bill Bryden that had transferred from the Cottesloe. The cast was led by the fantastic Mark McManus as John Proctor, with a terrifyingly nerve-racking performance by Caroline Embling as Abigail, James Grant as Reverend Hale and a dignified J G Devlin as Giles Corey. Gripping, exciting drama – I loved it.
I always thought this powerful and feelgood musical should have made a much greater impact than it did – one of those magical mysteries of theatre life that no one can really understand. It ran for almost three years in New York, but only a few months in London. Gretchen Cryer and Nancy Ford’s show about a 40 year old female singer doing her own work in her own way, attempting a comeback into the world of pop music had many excellent songs and a superb central performance by the great Diane Langton as Heather, and also a great performance by Ben Cross as her unbending manager. Its failure was maybe because of its being perceived as a feminist diatribe – but I really don’t remember it being preachy in any way. I enjoyed it a lot, and still have my souvenir badge! Interesting fact – the excellent Nicky Croydon, who was also terrific in this show, was Diane Langton’s understudy in A Chorus Line.
I saw this with the Dowager Mrs C – we were expecting a great show, and we got one! Marvin Hamlisch and Carole Bayer Sager’s autobiographical musical of how they met and worked together, and how it all unravelled, is full of fun and pathos, terrific songs and two enviable roles for two great actors. Tom Conti on top form, and accompanied by Gemma Craven’s stand-in, Nancy Wood, who I understand probably performed the role more often than Ms Craven. Mrs C and I still sing the title track at the drop of a hat whenever the need arises. Marvellous show!
“In its first adaptation for the stage” proudly proclaims the programme. The adaptation of Mervyn Peake’s novel and its stage direction was by Patrick Harbinson who has gone on to write many successful TV films and series. Nigel Williams played Titus, and this looks as though this must have been a tremendous production, but it was so close to Finals that my thoughts must have been elsewhere as I cannot remember one solitary thing about it.
Richard Harris is best known for his work on TV scripts and for adapting his plays into TV series and vice versa. The Business of Murder is a suspense thriller that enjoyed a very good run, and starred Francis Matthews and George Sewell. Although Finals were now over, I must have still been drunk because I also cannot remember a blind thing about this show. Must have been good though, to enjoy such a long run! From the production photos, it looks as though Mr Matthews spent most of the play pointing angrily at other cast members.
