Dancing in the Dark

STRICTLY BALLROOM

Birmingham Hippodrome, Monday 31^st October 2022

Back in 1992, Baz Luhrmann’s directorial debut took cinemas across the world by storm.  So popular was the film that the BBC nicked half of its title for their reboot of popular ballroom show, Come Dancing (rendering the adverb meaningless, in the process!).   Now, the musical stage adaptation is doing the rounds, directed by Strictly’s chief grouse, Craig Revel Horwood.  As you might expect, the choreography (by Horwood and Jason Gilkison) is impeccable.  The problem I have, unfortunately, is that too often the downstage area is in darkness, and characters who should be the focus of particular moments, disappear into shadow.  I can’t work out if this is down to strange choices by lighting designer Richard G Jones, or whether it’s because the follow-spot operators fell asleep on the job.

The two leads are played by Strictly royalty, Kevin Clifton as Scott Hastings and Maisie Smith as Fran.  Clifton is a wonderful mover and, as a singer, well, he’s a wonderful mover.  Belting out non-descript ballads is not his forte, I’m afraid.  Smith is a revelation, with a fine singing voice with an impressive range.  Fran is the ugly duckling, Cinderella and Eliza Doolittle rolled into one, as she learns to dance to a standard fit for a tournament in just three weeks.

The score is a mix of original songs (which aren’t up to much) and jukebox classics of the era, and so standards like Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time are shoehorned in, with the hope that at least some of the lyrics will be pertinent to the situation.

The Australian accents add to the campness of the whole, contrasting with the elegance of the formal dance clothes and coiffured hair. Nikki Belsher is a prime example, as Clifford’s selfish mother, Shirley. Gary Davis cuts an overbearing, almost Trumpian figure, as the corrupt president of the dance federation, Barry Fife.

When Scott goes to meet Fran’s folks, he encounters Rico, who puts him in his place, choreographically speaking.  Jose Agudo steals the show with a flaming flamenco that brings the house down, which brings the first act to a rousing finale.  The show never recovers, never retains these dizzying heights again.  Not even in the climactic dance tournament.  Agudo is magnetic, drawing the eye, embodying elegance and masculinity in the stamp of a foot, the sweep of an arm.  Tens across the board!

On the whole, I think the show would work better as a play, with the songs reserved for the dance sequences.  The quirky comedy of the original film is swamped here by the soul-searching ballads.

Kudos to the talented performers, who give their all, and to the excellent six-piece band under the baton of Dustin Conrad, but the material needs to be handled differently if the story is to delight and to move me as the film did thirty years ago.

☆ ☆ ☆

Kevin Clifton and Maisie Smith (Photo: Ellie Kurttz)

Nothin’ but a Good Time

ROCK OF AGES

The Alexandra Theatre, Birmingham, Friday 10^th September, 2021

There aren’t many jukebox musicals that can entice me back for a second viewing, but when I was invited to see this one, I jumped at the chance, remembering how much of a good time I’d had first time round.

Set in 1987-ish in a bar on LA’s famous Sunset Strip, the show tells the story of rock star-cross’d lovers, Sherrie and Drew.  She’s a small-town girl with dreams of making it as an actor; he’s a boy with a guitar and a voice to die for, with his sights set on playing the stadiums.  As Sherrie, Rhiannon Chesterman is in excellent form, with a strong, expressive voice and a likeable presence.  Returning to the role of Drew, Luke Walsh again impresses with his singing; his voice soaring above everything else.  It’s a treat to hear him once more.

Ross Dawes brings a gruff warmth and skilful comic business to his role as bar owner Dennis Dupree, while Vas Constanti and Andrew Carthy make welcome returns as the scheming German property developers bent on demolishing the neighbourhood.  The characterisations are comic-book.  In fact, the entire production has more than a whiff of adult panto to it, and that’s a good thing, in this instance.  What I enjoy most is the silliness, the cheeky breaking of the fourth wall.  This is a show that doesn’t take itself seriously and it’s all the better for it.

Gabriella Williams makes her mark as Regina, protesting the redevelopment and falling for Andrew Carthy’s Franz, but it’s Jenny Fitzpatrick’s Justice who stops the show with her astonishing vocals.

Strictly’s Kevin Clifton gets a chance to display his singing and his talent for broad comedy as opposed to his dancing and gives a thoroughly enjoyable portrayal of the egotistic rock star Stacee Jaxx.  But for me, the show belongs to Joe Gash as the camptastic, charismatic and mischievous Lonny, the narrator of the piece, prancing around like the lovechild of Jack Sparrow and Russell Brand.  Gash is a delight, with a powerful voice and a quick wit he uses to handle any hecklers. 

There is stonking support from a chorus of superlative singers and dancers.  The ensemble arrangement of Poison’s Every Rose Has Its Thorn is just lovely, among a set list of numbers that are mainly anthemic power ballads or hand-clapping standards, like Don’t Stop Believing and Keep On Loving You. Lonny and Dennis’s duet, I Can’t Fight The Feeling Anymore, is a highlight among many hilarious moments.

The onstage band, led by Liam Holmes, is flawless, making the old, familiar songs irresistible.  Of course, we’re all up on our feet before the end, rocking our socks off.  There is a party atmosphere from start to finish in a production brimming over with talent and loaded with laughs.

A funny, feelgood show that doesn’t wallow in nostalgia but reminds us there were so many great songs back then.  And it’s especially gratifying to hear a song by local band Slade!

Is it crass?  Yes!

Is it entertaining?  YES!

Would I see it a third time?

In a heartbeat!

*****

Kevin Clifton as Stacee Jaxx (Photo: Richard Davenport)