Opening Night - Gielgud

[mrbarnaby]

Steve (Rufus)- NEVER WRITE A MUSICAL AGAIN PLEASE.

[adamkinsey]

We clearly need to stage an intervention on Steve.

[Steve]

Apr 28, 2024 22:07:09 GMT mrbarnaby said:

Steve (Rufus)- NEVER WRITE A MUSICAL AGAIN PLEASE.

I could have made magic out of tragic if it wasn't for pesky Mr Barnaby.

"I don’t know about you, but I intend to write a strongly worded letter to the White Star Line about all of this."

I gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta. . . yes, my third favourite song from this show is

3. "Magic:-"

This song is a jack-in-the-box of joyous and joyful advice about creativity, jumping poetically out of dark fears and feelings.

As such, it's a great song to listen to if you want to create something.

The song begins in downbeat musings to threatening, rumbling, descending musical notes:

"I wouldn't say I was beautiful
I try to be
That was my hope I guess."

But then, the brightest banjo-chirpy strings smash away all doubts:

"You got to make magic
Magic out of tragic
We are the sunshine
that defines the moon
It takes a long time
for the stars to get here
Don't want to miss it
In your dressing room."

The metaphor of creative inspiration flying through space like stars, which we can only catch if we decide to leave our "dressing rooms," is simply gorgeous and gorgeously simple, much as the magic/tragic rhyme is memorably simple and simply memorable.

But it's the fact that "we are sunshine" who can take hold of the doomy moody "moon" inside us that is truly inspiring!

And its not enough to be told by your parents or teachers you can do it, you gotta show up (Carpe Diem):

"So when they tell you
Tell you that you're able
Yeah when they tell you
Tell you that you can
Still you got to make magic
Or you shouldn't even be here
Wasting the precious
Precious time at hand."

The song is positive affirmations to the highest degree, as those chirpy strings and celebratory trumpets make stopping procrastination and actually doing sh*t sound like the most fun in the world lol!

"My mother warned me about Broadway's light
But now I'm here and I have never ever felt so right
Yeah you gotta do it
Yeah you gotta do it!"

*Ignores the pesky theatre kids, puts the Steve (Sondheim) mask back on, and posts the sternly worded letter to the white star line*

And the band played on. You gotta make magic. . .

[jay78uk]

Finally made my way to the Gielgud last night. It was a memorable night for lots of reasons. Its unusual to attend a show where there’s been so much negative press. You could feel the apprehension and uncertainty in the auditorium ahead of the show starting in a way I have not experienced before. The theatre was reasonably full, with all three levels open- which surprised me for a Monday night. There was a medical emergency towards the end of the second act- following Myrtle wresting with Nancy, a poor chap was hyperventilating but fortunately did not require medical assistance. The show stopped for five minutes and theatre staff and cast handled the situation calmly and professionally. To the show itself, it was far less of a mess than I anticipated! The quality of casting shone through… I’ve never seen SS live and found her captivating. I took the time to watch the original film a few weeks ago, and am glad I did as I’m sure it helped me understand what was going on throughout… but that having been said, the subtitles on the screen certainly would have helped the uninitiated. I’m a big Rufus Wainwright fan so was a bit surprised that, to my ears at least, that some of the music didn’t work, but that having been said much did… especially Myrtle’s opening number ‘Magic’, the closing second act number and ‘Pantomime’. I thought the curtain call brilliant… it captured the relief and celebration following their opening performance, contrasting with all the anguish and (back stage) drama leading to it. I did find some of the direction mystifying- pre-recorded footage seemed unnecessary and distracting, especially when it didn’t sync with live action (which seemed throughout, with the exception of one scene) and the footage of the audience entering the Gielgud gimmicky- they should have stuck with Broadway or London as the setting, but not mixed the two. I am sure this show will go down in Westend history- how so much money could have been spent on such a niche production is a mystery to me- it just feels incomprehensible that anyone with any sense wouldn’t first watch the film its based on- that would be enough for any right minded individual wishing to make a profit or, at the very least recoup their investment, run a mile! That’s not to say I find the film without merit- far from it- it is a searing portrayal of an actress struggling to come to terms with a role and herself- but its niche in the extreme, very dated in its misogyny and largely bereft of narrative structure. It feels to me that most negative reaction associated with his show is largely down to the film its based on… I would advise anyone who wishes to see its final performances to watch the film first (its free on youtube!) and then decide.

[Steve]

My second favourite song in "Opening Night" is

2. "Talk to Me:-"

It is a song for the lonely and lost.

It's a song that can only really be appreciated if you see the show, as Van Hove does a LOT with it, but as its likely now that most people will never see it, I'll describe it below. . .

Spoilers follow. . .

A 19 year old fan is run over, and Myrtle is shaken. She wants to have a drink with her ex-husband, Maurice, for old times' sake:

"Talk to me
I'm trying to tell you something
Open up your ears
And hear what I want to say
There isn't anyone else but me here
There isn't anyone else whose listening."

(I think that bit was sung acapella).

Maurice leaves Myrtle by herself, as he goes offstage to join the others for dinner. She's all alone.

A high pitched wind instrument starts to ascend in up and down waves, as if approaching to comfort her.

Then lower pitched alternating fast-played rumbling piano keys form a warm aural embrace around this lonely broken woman, as she sadly sings:

"One More Dream
That will not come true."

A close-up of her face appears on the left of the big screen, looking right.

Somewhere offstage, her unlikeable ex-husband is lonely too. His image now appears on the right of the big screen, looking left, as if he is looking at Myrtle. He sings:

"One More Wish
That has fallen through."

In reality they are both alone, wishing they were talking. In the fantasy world of the screen, they ARE talking.

They both realise they are alone, and now sing their loneliness passionately into the void:

"Always waiting on a corner
In New York somewhere
Caught between the border
Of hell and high water."

That passion is a bridge to repeat the main phrase of the song:

"There isn't anyone else but me here
There isn't anyone else whose listening."

The phrase has changed its meaning. When first sang, it meant the couple had the quiet to talk if they were willing. Now it means the only person they are talking to is themselves.

Myrtle calls the hospital and discovers her fan has died.

Now, in the foreground of the stage, the director, Manny (Hadley Fraser) and his wife (Amy Lennox) have their own argument. She wants to talk:

"Talk to me
I'm trying to tell you something
Open up your ears
And hear what I want to say
There isn't anyone else but me here
There isn't anyone else whose listening."

He's not interested, and she starts insulting him.

Now Sheridan Smith's Myrtle and her ex, Maurice, sing again of their loneliness:

"One More Dream
That will not come true
One More Wish
That has fallen through."

But this time the director and his wife join them in a round of this chorus, four lonely people singing alone yet also singing together only through the magic of theatre.

The bridge engulfs them all, singing together, loudly and more desperately, alone but together, yearning:

"Always waiting on a corner
In New York somewhere
Caught between the border
Of hell and high water. . ."

Together they all sing the main phrase of the song:

"There isn't anyone else but me here
There isn't anyone else whose listening."

The phrase has changed its meaning again. First, it was a request to talk privately, then it was a confession of loneliness, but, now, when all 4 characters make the same confession together, it shows the universality of loneliness, which, if everyone feels that way means that noone is truly alone at all. They are all just experiencing the human condition, which includes loneliness.

The music and the lyrics and the direction are all in perfect sync for this one, which is why, in my opinion, it's a perfect theatrical moment.

[theatrelover123]

Apr 30, 2024 17:19:02 GMT Steve said:

My second favourite song in "Opening Night" is

2. "Talk to Me:-"

It is a song for the lonely and lost.

It's a song that can only really be appreciated if you see the show, as Van Hove does a LOT with it, but as its likely now that most people will never see it, I'll describe it below. . .

Spoilers follow. . .

A 19 year old fan is run over, and Myrtle is shaken. She wants to have a drink with her ex-husband, Maurice, for old times' sake:

"Talk to me
I'm trying to tell you something
Open up your ears
And hear what I want to say
There isn't anyone else but me here
There isn't anyone else whose listening."

(I think that bit was sung acapella).

Maurice leaves Myrtle by herself, as he goes offstage to join the others for dinner. She's all alone.

A high pitched wind instrument starts to ascend in up and down waves, as if approaching to comfort her.

Then lower pitched alternating fast-played rumbling piano keys form a warm aural embrace around this lonely broken woman, as she sadly sings:

"One More Dream
That will not come true."

A close-up of her face appears on the left of the big screen, looking right.

Somewhere offstage, her unlikeable ex-husband is lonely too. His image now appears on the right of the big screen, looking left, as if he is looking at Myrtle. He sings:

"One More Wish
That has fallen through."

In reality they are both alone, wishing they were talking. In the fantasy world of the screen, they ARE talking.

They both realise they are alone, and now sing their loneliness passionately into the void:

"Always waiting on a corner
In New York somewhere
Caught between the border
Of hell and high water."

That passion is a bridge to repeat the main phrase of the song:

"There isn't anyone else but me here
There isn't anyone else whose listening."

The phrase has changed its meaning. When first sang, it meant the couple had the quiet to talk if they were willing. Now it means the only person they are talking to is themselves.

Myrtle calls the hospital and discovers her fan has died.

Now, in the foreground of the stage, the director, Manny (Hadley Fraser) and his wife (Amy Lennox) have their own argument. She wants to talk:

"Talk to me
I'm trying to tell you something
Open up your ears
And hear what I want to say
There isn't anyone else but me here
There isn't anyone else whose listening."

He's not interested, and she starts insulting him.

Now Sheridan Smith's Myrtle and her ex, Maurice, sing again of their loneliness:

"One More Dream
That will not come true
One More Wish
That has fallen through."

But this time the director and his wife join them in a round of this chorus, four lonely people singing alone yet also singing together only through the magic of theatre.

The bridge engulfs them all, singing together, loudly and more desperately, alone but together, yearning:

"Always waiting on a corner
In New York somewhere
Caught between the border
Of hell and high water. . ."

Together they all sing the main phrase of the song:

"There isn't anyone else but me here
There isn't anyone else whose listening."

The phrase has changed its meaning again. First, it was a request to talk privately, then it was a confession of loneliness, but, now, when all 4 characters make the same confession together, it shows the universality of loneliness, which, if everyone feels that way means that noone is truly alone at all. They are all just experiencing the human condition, which includes loneliness.

The music and the lyrics and the direction are all in perfect sync for this one, which is why, in my opinion, it's a perfect theatrical moment.

Baffling

[Steve]

Apr 30, 2024 18:17:49 GMT theatrelover123 said:

Baffling.

Lol. I'm sorry.

*Checks Steve (Sondheim) mask is on.*

It's such a good song.

Don't let my baffling explanation put you off.

There's still about another 20 performances, and you can experience it for yourself:)

*Checks noone is looking and removes mask*

[theatrelover123]

Apr 30, 2024 18:35:02 GMT Steve said:

Apr 30, 2024 18:17:49 GMT theatrelover123 said:

Baffling.

Lol. I'm sorry.

*Checks Steve (Sondheim) mask is on.*

It's such a good song.

Don't let my baffling explanation put you off.

There's still about another 20 performances, and you can experience it for yourself:)

*Checks noone is looking and removes mask*

Oh I very much experienced it for myself about a month ago

That’s why I found your post quite so baffling

[marinusnl]

Saw the show last week. Started about 10 minutes late and SS sounded like she had a cold in the first few songs. Does every show starts late? Does she always sound a little bit off in the first songs? Could be directed this way...

(My first post on this board. Looked for an answer, couldn't find it.)

[jr]

This was bad but not as terrible as I feared.

I feel sorry for the actors. Some of the scenes and songs (those lyrics) are hard to pull off.

The character of the dead girl is particularly annoying and the fight scene between her and Myrtle was preposterous. Hadley Fraser was a disappointment; I'm not an expert in accents but at times he sounded like a bad imitation of Martin Scorsese. He also looks a bit like a young Rufus (not the current Aldi's Walt Whitman incarnation), not sure if this was on purpose.

I did like J Hepburn who was playing Sarah this eve and I think Sheridan Smith did what she could with the material given.

Not sure if it happens every night but the scene where the dead girl is not shown on the screen while the actor is on stage moving around was quite out of sync; it looked very silly. I could see in my head Mr van Hove's smug smile thinking how clever he is showing us simple people that the girl was a ghost. And like that, most of it.

[fluxcapacitor]

Finally saw this yesterday afternoon, more out of curiosity than anything, with very low expectations. My god it’s bad. The material is in no way ready, and that’s only elevated by the bare design which makes it all feel like a try-out of a second year drama school devised musical. I do give them kudos for giving context to the material on the screens. The documentary works really well for the first 20 minutes or so, but then the concept is largely forgotten and the screen becomes a gimmick.

Overall I found it quite a frustrating watch because there IS a good idea at the very core of it, and I can see exactly why Sheridan Smith was drawn to it with the parallels to her own experiences giving it the potential to be a cathartic star turn. But they’ve utterly failed her and I feel bad for her because she - as always - is so enthralling. With stronger material here she could have really shone.

There are bad lyrics and awkward prose galore, but what hit me most in the material was how repetitive the songs are. Choruses are repeated ad nauseum with the actors having to create their own intents and emotions over lyrics that often have nothing to do with what they’re trying to portray. Some of the songs by themselves are nice enough to listen to, but they’re ultimately pop songs and hardly ever push the plot or emotion forward so actors are left making each repeat more intense than the previous chorus because… that’s all they can do. He’s an incredible songwriter, but writing a musical is a totally different beast. Wainwright needed guidance here by someone who understands the art form, and it’s naïve and arrogant of the creative team to assume they didn’t need to work more on the material before subjecting it to such a big stage.

Most frustrating to me was the irony throughout: the main character is literally struggling with material that doesn’t work and more than once declares that it “has to make sense”. How they failed to heed the warning at the core of their own material is baffling.

Having said that, the cast are incredible. Especially Smith and Nicola Hughes as Sarah, both working their arses off to convey meaning and emotion even when they’re having to battle the material itself to do so. Hats off to them, but I do feel sorry for them - with better material they wouldn’t have to work this hard.

[fluxcapacitor]

Apr 11, 2024 14:41:02 GMT MoreLife said:

I hope it doesn't create too much of a precedent whereby the more daring and out there shows can't really find a space, but I'm not surprised they're pulling the plug on it much sooner than originally planned...  

Just re-reading some of the thread now that I've seen the show and felt I wanted to pick up on your valid point here. I, too, hope the failure of Opening Night doesn't put anyone off giving new and experimental theatre a chance; but crucially I hope producers, financial backers and theatre goers in general realise this new show isn't failing because it's "daring and out there". It's failing because it's a bad musical that was flung on stage and exposed to a paying audience long before it was ready.

[sophia]

I saw The Cherry Orchard at the Donmar Warehouse last night and it started with about 5 mins of someone hoovering the stage…

[ladidah]

A trend!

[mistertonymac]

May 2, 2024 10:36:14 GMT ladidah said:

A trend!

Here We Are (the last Sondheim show, in NYC) also started with Tracie Bennett hoovering onstage!

[Being Alive]

Mean Girls might be improved with some hoovering

[Paulw]

You can see it coming a mile off with the theatre cosplayers going dressed as a hoover!

Me personally I am going to revisit this and go dressed as the dead fan so there might be another empty seat!

[fiyero]

Apr 15, 2024 20:41:34 GMT mrbarnaby said:

Apr 15, 2024 20:22:20 GMT fiyero said:

I really should have checked trains were running before booking. I hope this is worth the rail replacement bus!!

Awkward….

Well, I enjoyed the show. They tried something new, maybe it didn't really work but there was something there. We had Jennifer Hepburn on for Sarah (the writer) who was amazing. The audience was rubbish, one group loudly debating whether they should leave and another audience member who obviously thought she should join in with the show. They were always loudest at the points where I wanted to concentrate. Annoying.
It isn't worth going over what I would change in the show but the main one is it would have been good to know Nancy more before, was she an obsessive fan there every night etc.

I am glad I made the effort to squeeze this in. Whether I'll think the same when I make it home around 2am who knows.

[danb]

Hope you made it home in one piece. I quite enjoy that feeling on having put a lot of effort into seeing something, even if it’s not a guaranteed ‘enjoy’. I remember driving the three hours back from Chichester in torrential rain after ‘South Pacific’ not caring a bit because I’d just seen something so good, whereas I really resented driving home from ‘I Should Be So Lucky’ 20-odd miles away cos I could have been sat at home watching ‘Corrie’ at the end of a busy work week.

[g3]

OK, so I love reading this board, yet rarely post (must try harder). However, this show, which I saw last night, has motivated me to do pull my fingers out.

I was always going to see this, as I love Rufus Wainwright, and I even watched - or rather tried to watch - the film in preparation. I made it to the same part in both versions before giving up, which was bizarrely at the end of act I.

Took my wife, who had no skin in the game and is a pretty even judge of most things, and we both felt the same. Basically, it's confusing and pretentious. The screens are annoying (see Dorian Gray on how to do that right), the characters unlikeable and woefully underdeveloped, and there's nothing to get emotionally invested in.

Also, last night I saw something I've never seen in a professional musical, one of the leads took a second mid song to cough. Looked like he didn't give a toss, and it felt like much of the cast felt the same.

I was ambivalent to SS before and on this showing I wouldn't go see her in anything else. Even the music was mediocre.

Memorable though...

[Steve]

May 4, 2024 21:42:46 GMT fiyero said:

Apr 15, 2024 20:41:34 GMT mrbarnaby said:

Awkward….

Well, I enjoyed the show. They tried something new, maybe it didn't really work but there was something there. We had Jennifer Hepburn on for Sarah (the writer) who was amazing.

I went to yesterday's matinee, as I simply LOVE this utterly eccentric, gloriously pretentious show full of desperately poignant and on-point songs and terrific performances, despite all its flaws (all inherited from the source material: unlikeable characters, meandering static plot, blustering blisteringly obvious revelations about aging), and its imminent closing and copious ticket availability have motivated me to go as much as possible lol.

So I did get to see Jennifer Hepburn's take on Sarah Goode, the writer, and she is archly, slyly, comically good, an eagle-eyed predator perpetually, loftily and wryly surveying her victim (Sheridan Smith's Myrtle) for the kill. Nicola Hughes, by contrast, is MUCH more fearsome, the coming of the storm, an unstoppable, raging, fearsome twister destroying everything in her path.

It's like the comparison between Rachel Tucker and Nicole Scherzinger in Sunset Boulevard, where the former had more intricate characterising nuances to her performance but the latter was an unstoppable tour-de-force that leaves you breathless.

Both were great!

[greenandbrownandblue]

Steve, you have single-handedly persuaded me to book this for next Saturday night. I look forward to re-reading your detailed song analysis having watched it.

[Steve]

Which leads me directly to talking about the first half closing number, "Life is Thin," my favourite song in this show, performed by the character of Sarah Goode, the writer of the play-within-the-play, "The Second Woman!"

Spoilers follow. . .

1. "Life is Thin:-"

Ostensibly, Sarah Goode, the writer, is "the third woman" (ie an aging post-menopausal woman) who scares the heck out of Sheridan Smith's Myrtle ("the second woman," no longer young but not yet old) with her dour dreary script about aging, "The Second Woman," catalysing Myrtle's retreat into a destructive imaginary fantasy friendship with "the first woman," Shira Haas's dead 17 year old Nancy (youthful, reckless, passionate, bonkers), which Myrtle, having had a psychotic break, perceives as real.

As if that wasn't bonkers enough, as is universally common in this show, a much bigger metaphor outweighs and overthrows the "reality" of this already absurd situation in the final song of the first act:

For Rufus Wainwright, Sarah Goode is the harbinger of death and the song is a five minute heart attack!

The title of the song ("Life is THIN") gives the first clue, as the "thin"-nest thing about our lives are our constricting arteries, which thin until they eventually kill us, if something else doesn't get us first;

The second clue is the beat of the intro music, which thumps a heavy bass two-pronged "boom boom" heartbeat motif as the intro. The music to the song that follows, accompanying that heartbeat, piano and percussion jazz-inflected funky sixties-style dance music, reflects a dance of death conception to the song, whereby we mindlessly dance along with our lives until we suddenly cop it;

The third clue is that the song is framed as a series of interruptions to Myrtle working on the play, nattering away with the director and her ex-husband, as Sarah Goode watches on, lying in wait, to interrupt Myrtle's ramblings, like a heart attack which can suddenly interrupt our day to day:-

She gutturally growls (if sung by Nicola Hughes, in the manner of Shirley Bassey singing a Bond song) or eye-brow raised, scowling sneers (if sung by Jennifer Hepburn) the following lyrics:

"This silly world we're living for
Can disappear in the matter of a minute
Don't get your hopes up anymore
Life is Thin."

The diabolical infinite expanse of (not so) Goode's vision becomes clear, as she dismisses any human pretensions to permanence, like Shelley in "Ozymandias," snarling

"The Pyramids are a house of cards."

Then, she cautions:

"It's over before you know it
It's over even before you blow it
You're welcome
and thanks for coming
Yes I've been patiently waiting for you
And now
You're in."

Like in Nick Cave's "Red Right Hand," Sarah Goode isn't so much Good as GOD, patiently waiting for us to expire, to welcome us in to the afterlife. Not only does she sneer that we are likely to "blow" our plans, we are likely to expire "even before we blow it" lol. I mean, not even having the chance to blow it, that's really mean!

As Michael Palin said in "Monty Python," "Noone expects the Spanish Inquisition:" and so it is with Goode, each interruption of Myrtle's play-within-a-play, leaping out to get Myrtle like the Spanish Inquistion, a closeup of a hidden Goode towering and glowering over proceedings, even as Goode herself disappears off stage left, hidden from Myrtle and us on stage but only revealed by Van Hove's omniscient enormous threatening screen, plotting Myrtles demise, her voice growing louder and LOUDER with each interruption as death draws near.

With each interruption, the immediacy of the danger Goode represents lyrically increases:

Whereas initially she gloated that we could die "in the matter of a minute," in a subsequent verse, she suggests that

"this silly world we're living for
Can explode in the heat of a moment"

and most sinisterly, she subsequently concludes that,

"This silly world we're living for
Can expire in a FRACTION OF A SECOND."

Louder and louder, with greater and greater urgency, Hughes' belt tops most anyone you've ever seen as the song concludes with one more

"It's over before you know it
It's over even before you blow it
You're welcome
and thanks for coming
Yes I've been patiently waiting for you
And now
You're in."

Myrtle falls to the floor, apparently dead from this lurking heart attack of a song, metaphorically admitted to the afterlife in that instant.

The famous film sequence that this song most resembles is at the end of James Cameron's "The Terminator," as Arnold Schwarzenegger's Teminator just keeps getting up and coming back to kill Sarah Connor one more time, even after you've written him off for dead. Here, Nicola Hughes' Terminator just keeps coming back one more time to (metaphorically) kill Myrtle.

Hilariously, the song ends in a musical Bond parody flourish, mimicking the music of the gun barrel sequence in every Bond film where Bond appears at the end of the barrel, except here, it is Nicola Hughes' Goode, Sarah Goode, who turns to shoot Myrtle dead.

About 16 performances remain of this incredible song, and it remains to be seen if the superlative Nicola Hughes will return for any of them. If she does, it's "Time to Die."

[Rory]

Great interview with Sheridan Smith in today's Sunday Times. She speaks candidly about feeling guilty that the show is closing as she "couldn't sell it".

[alece10]

It's an excellent interview.