Spend, Spend, Spend (Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester)
Verdict: Cautious fiscal tale
Before we delve into shoppers’ remorse over the January sales, you might want to check out the musical cautionary tale Spend Spend Spend at Manchester’s Royal Exchange.
It’s the story of Yorkshire girl Viv Nicholson, who won the football pools in 1961 (Gen Z readers: think National Lottery).
When asked what she was going to do with her winnings of £152,319 (around £4 million today), our Viv’s response was: “Spend, spend, spend!”
And as far as lottery winners go, Viv’s life was a textbook car accident.
By the time she hit the jackpot at the tender age of 25, she had divorced the father of her first child, married Keith, her next-door neighbor, and had three more children.
In fact, she spent, spent, spent, on cars, furs and jewels, becoming an outcast in the luxurious town of Garforth, before the love of her life died in a car accident.
Her earnings exhausted, Viv opened a boutique, went bankrupt, married three more (bad) men, and was eventually saved from alcoholism by Jehovah’s Witnesses.
That’s a lot of plot; but our Viv wasn’t exactly Eva Perón and I’m not sure we need two hours and 40 minutes to cover her life in forensic detail.
Rose Galbraith as Viv Nicholson’s main character in Spend Spend Spend
With her sixties blonde bob, Galbraith (left) brings attitude and innocence to young, lustful Viv, writes PATRICK MARMION
Alex James-Hatton is a fit and affectionate Keith, who is Viv’s second husband (pictured together)
The great music and lyrics from Steve Brown and Justin Greene’s 1998 show could also use some bigger, bolder numbers to break the bank. The only really memorable tune among them is Who’s Gonna Love Me? in the second half, when Viv is abruptly heartbroken.
That said, Josh Seymour’s production, set on a silver record (which should be stamped with a giant shilling), keeps you distracted, thanks in no small part to Rose Galbraith as the younger Viv.
With her sixties blonde bob, Galbraith brings attitude and innocence to the young, libidinous Viv. And in a clever twist, Rachel Leskovac, who played that role in the original production, looks back sadly as the older Viv.
Joe Alessi pays glorious tribute to the unreconstructed post-war man, sporting a red Teddy-boy wig as Viv’s alcoholic father. Alex James-Hatton is a warm, fit Keith, helping us feel the sadness in life Viv’s wayward
Otherwise, the song and dance numbers need to be improved, with more choreographic effervescence.
I occasionally wonder why I never won the lottery, but this made me feel better for not having done so.
Little Shop of Horrors (Crucible Theatre, Sheffield)
Verdict: a fantastic triffid
How to explain the continued success of the 1960 low-budget horror B-movie Little Shop Of Horrors (with a then-unknown Jack Nicholson in a minor role)?
It is now best known as a musical, after becoming an Off-Broadway hit in 1982 and enjoying a West End run in 2007, starring Sheridan Smith. A black comedy featuring domestic violence, a sadistic dentist and a carnivorous potted plant is not obvious hit musical material.
And yet it maintains a morbid fascination, as our unlikely hero, dim-witted florist assistant Seymour, saves his beloved colleague Audrey by feeding her abusive dentist boyfriend an oversized Venus flytrap.
Part of what drives our interest is Seymour’s desire to cover up his enslavement to the plant, which he calls Audrey II.
But Alan Menken’s score also delights as an homage to Motown; while Howard Ashman’s lyrics allow us to laugh on songs like Skid Row, Somewhere That’s Green and the suddenly big cheesy romantic number, Seymour.
Little Shop of Horrors is irresistibly cheerful and driven by Jewish humour, but in Sheffield they’ve ditched the American accent.
The infamous dentist scene in Little Shop of Horrors (Wilf Scolding as the dentist)
Manuel Harlan during a scene from Little Shop of Horrors at the Crucible Theater
Not only is it irresistibly cheerful, but it is driven by Jewish humor; Nowhere is he more sardonic than in the klezmer number when Seymour’s boss, Mr. Mushnik, adopts him as his son.
Sheffield has had the good sense to ditch the American accent, leaving Seymour to be played by Colin Ryan as a shy Brummie.
Georgina Onuorah might be more agile as the object of his affection, Audrey; but her voice combines vulnerability and weight.
Wilf Scolding is hilariously sinister as the diabolical dentist, while Sam Buttery turns the monstrous Audrey II into a vengeful drag queen.
Georgia Lowe’s set combines wheeled containers (with human cargo), dancing molars and boxes filled with enormous tentacles.
And Amy Hodge’s production offers a glorious ending for the man (and woman) who eats plants. Three cheers as guilt and death triumph over love and life.
- Spend Spend Spend until January 11; Little Shop Of Horrors until January 18.
Opening a path… a new and free vision of War and Peace
Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 (Donmar Warehouse, London)
Verdict: From Russia with love
By Georgina Brown
Dave Malloy’s rousing, sung-driven musical, inspired by a delightful tragicomic bit from War And Peace, is more original and eclectic than anything else playing in the West End.
Woven into its indie-folk fabric are searing Slavic strings, a carnivalesque accordion, heartbreaking Les Mis-esque ballads, drinking songs, torch songs, and more.
Don’t worry if you’ve forgotten what’s in Tolstoy’s epic. All is revealed in the first issue, with the amusing repetition of a children’s memory game: “There is a war somewhere and Andrey is not here.”
A melodious introduction to the key characters follows: Natasha is “young”, Pierre is “unhappy”, Anatole is “hot”, Hélène, Anatole’s sister and also Pierre’s wife, “a whore”.
The cast of Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet Of 1812. The singing musical is more original and eclectic than anything else playing in the West End.
And so it begins, with Declan Bennett’s weary, emotional Pierre as our guide: “They say we’re asleep until we fall in love.” Pierre cares as little for Hélène as she cares for him. Maybe it’s the effect of the impending comet, but love is in the air.
Natasha (a cheerful, youthful Chumisa Dornford-May) is in town for the first time, at the opera, and discovers that everyone’s torch-like binoculars are focused on her instead of the stage. Especially those of Anatole, Jamie Muscato’s preening bad boy, with kohl eyes, sporting Hugh Grant’s toothy grin and a New Romantic blouse.
Tim Sheader’s fabulous, freewheeling production has the feel and style of a cabaret, the atmosphere moving from mischief and joy to misery and melancholy.
Cat Simmons’ Hélène, scowling, emerging from her corset, prowls around the stage like a, uh, cat; A touching Sonya (Maimuna Memon), Natasha’s best friend, breaks our hearts with her sad song.
The show ends on a note of high drama, as a bright sphere of light (the comet) descends and Pierre falls in love, whetting our appetite for the next juicy chapter. Come on!
Until February 8.