The big summer musical at the Chichester Festival Theatre is always a matter of great expectations. You can rely on an impressive production with no expense spared, and pretty much a full house for every performance. This year’s production, Irving Berlin’s Top Hat, has much to live up to – will it follow in the footsteps of last year’s outstanding Oliver! or other big hitters like Half a Sixpence, Crazy for You, South Pacific, Fiddler on the Roof, Oklahoma! – it’s a list of enviable quality.
I don’t have to tell you, gentle reader, that Top Hat is that hugely successful movie musical from 1935 starring Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers – ninety years old now and still holding a prominent place in the history of cinema and entertainment. Matthew White and Howard Jacques’ stage musical first appeared in 2011 and is a largely faithful adaptation of the original film. It’s not at all surprising that it’s considered worthy of a revival – after all, how can you miss with songs like Puttin’ on the Ritz, Cheek to Cheek, Top Hat White Tie and Tails and Let’s Face the Music and Dance.
To say it’s a simple plot is something of an insult to the notion of simplicity. American dancer Jerry Travers comes to London to appear in a show and meets – and annoys – Dale Tremont. He falls head over heels in love; she doesn’t. A case of mistaken identity ensues, with Dale believing Jerry to be married to her friend Madge, whereas Madge is married to Horace, the producer of the show. Dale marries an Italian fashion designer in anger; but Jerry is ever persistent, and when Dale’s marriage proves to be invalid as it was conducted by Horace’s butler – I know, bear with me – it all ends happily ever after. Even the spurned Italian fashion designer is happy, as he is placated by being employed to create Dale’s wedding dress. I don’t think he was really in love in the first place, do you?
I should point out that the show we saw was a Friday night preview, the fifth (I believe) public performance of the run, and of course I take that into account when summarising my thoughts. However, no amount of rehearsals, performances, tweaks and so on can change the fact that the script is incredibly corny, with some of the lamest jokes you’ll hear for many a year. Overall, the show is extraordinarily dated, and in a tedious rather than charming way. Various elements of the plot include stalking, misogyny, making fun of foreigners, domestic violence, love bombing and a spot of sexual harassment. Gosh they had fun in the 30s.
As for the production itself, it scores high on the basics but low on the embellishments. Credit where it’s due: Peter McKintosh’s set is superb, beautifully recreating a deco style, with a glass arch that reminded me of the Musée d’Orsay and a revolving stage underneath that transforms into hotel rooms, reception desks, and other vital scenes in the plot. He and Yvonne Milnes also designed the costumes which are outstanding; elegant, and totally in keeping with the era. Stephen Ridley’s out of sight orchestra fills the Festival Theatre with glorious arrangements of Berlin’s timeless tunes.
Kathleen Marshall, who also directs the show, choreographs all these big numbers, and there is – understandably – an emphasis on tap, which hits you full force with amplified tap shoes, creating a hugely impressive audible avalanche of tapping. However, the choreography for the non-tap routines feels less inspired and rather generic; and indeed, one wonders why they hit those Spanish lines for a routine that is set in Italy. Curious.
It’s a very skilful and experienced cast, but somehow the whole thing doesn’t gel. Philip Attmore playing Jerry is a fantastic tap dancer and showman, and Lucy St Louis as Dale looks the part completely and has a great voice, but there is hardly any chemistry between them. Clive Carter as Horace and James Clyde as his butler Bates do everything that the script requires of them – which is primarily to make them look stupid, with Mr Carter ending up with a black eye and a lipsticked mouth, and Mr Clyde looking like a very world-weary gondolier.
Alex Gibson-Giorgio injects the necessary high camp into his performance as fashionista Bedini, and the audience adored his solo number Latins Know How, but I’m afraid I found it excruciatingly cringeworthy and had to watch through the gaps in my fingers. The always reliable Sally Ann Triplett as Madge is missing in the first Act and her appearance at the beginning of Act Two breathes fresh life into the show, but even she gets bogged down with some dubiously outdated comedy.
By the time we were well into the second Act I was both very bored, and not remotely interested in any of the characters’ plights or how they would end up. Having great expectations of a show often leads to disappointment and that’s certainly the case for this production. Despite its glitz and glamour, great music and accomplished performers, this did nothing for me at all. I’ve added a star to my rating in the hope that it will improve in time for Press Night.
Three-sy Does It!