Tag Archives: Clare Burt

“Flowers for Mrs Harris” from Chichester Festival Theatre

The story of a widowed char lady who saves up to buy a Christian Dior dress doesn’t sound like a winner. But I’m shocked that this show, which started at Sheffield Theatres in 2016 and is generously presented online by the Chichester Festival Theatre, wasn’t a big hit. High-quality, old-fashioned and unashamedly feelgood, Richard Taylor’s score and lyrics, with a book by Rachel Wagstaff based on Paul Gallico’s novel, is musical theatre magic.

There are risks here. The central character is naïve as well as ridiculously self-sacrificing. Her motivation, the dream behind her triumph over adversity, really shouldn’t convince. And the show is predictable – we all know where Mrs Harris will take a trip (cue dodgy accents to join already plentifully dropped consonants). But if you’re going to manipulate, emotional restraint isn’t called for, and director Daniel Evans shows he knows that. The proof is in the puddin’ – I was close to tears for most of the second act!

Much of the success is down to the mammoth title role, played by Clare Burt. At first gravelly, her voice gets stronger as the show progresses – along with a score that reflects dreams and imagination with style. The trials she faces in saving for her dress create remarkable investment with the audience. When winning the pools isn’t enough (an excellent sequence) hard work is the key, and admiration for the character, and Burt’s assured performance, are secured.

Flowers for Mrs Harris
Laura Pitt-Pulford and Louis Maskell

Mrs Harris goes around inspiring all, like a mix of Mary Poppins and Dolly Gallagher Levi. It makes for plenty of subsidiary characters, admittedly of varying success. It’s great to see some older roles, like Mrs Harris herself, but the younger parts are better and create a rush of romance that adds further escapism. Helping the French in their amours indicates a nice sense of humour underlying the show and provides great numbers for Laura Pitt-Pulford and Louis Maskell. There’s a touch here of She Loves Me – it’s a chocolate cake rather than ice cream – and that’s never a bad thing.

That there’s plenty of love for Mrs Harris is only fair. Mark Meadows’ roles – as her dead husband and then a Marquis who sees her as a fellow spirit – anchor the show. Like the gown she so covets, everything in Flowers for Mrs Harris is “made to make you feel”. Taylor doesn’t let up, and even a couple of twists at the end of the show ram home humour and heart. Nor does the finale disappoint, with each bouquet for Mrs Harris bringing a smile and a sob.

Available until 8 May 2020

To support visit www.cft.org.u

Photos by Johan Persson

“The American Clock” at the Old Vic

Of the current and forthcoming productions of Arthur Miller plays in London, this piece from 1980 may count as the oddest and perhaps the most personal. The play gives an outline of The Great Depression, based on the work of oral historian Studs Terkel. And with much of the action focusing on a young man, similar in age and ambition to Miller in the early 1930s – whose family loses its money just as his did – it’s hard not to see it as an autobiographical fragment. Unfortunately, as a trip into the past it’s too potted. And as analysis of events it’s too pedestrian. That American optimism is relentless is rammed home, but doing so brings monotony. And while the idea of an American political left that challenges corporations might be intriguing, it has clearly been consigned to history. It all makes for a text that’s both slim and slow.

Clare Burt, Golda Rosheuvel and Amber Aga

With an episodic structure and presentation that includes song and dance An American Clock still intrigues and the work of director Rachel Chavkin is strong. Making the lack of plot a virtue, the central family is played in triplicate: there are three sets of once wealthy mothers and struggling fathers, while a trio of sons grow up and start careers. It’s a neat way of showing the universalism of the economic disaster and is staged superbly – the device works to make the large ensemble cast really stand out. Clare Burt and Amber Aga both excel as the mother Rose while Golda Rosheuvel becomes the star by also punctuating scenes with a powerful singing voice. James Garnon has most time in the role of the father, and leaves the biggest impression, while three youngsters performing as the son Lee – Fred Haig, Jyuddah Jaymes and Taheen Modak – all impress. Worried about losing track? Thankfully, Clarke Peters is on board as the show’s narrator to make everything smooth. Few actors could make a story this predictable still entertaining and Peters is, as ever, superb.

Ewan Wardrop

Miller renamed the play a Vaudeville piece after its flop on Broadway. Chavkin embraces this by ensuring her production has variety, fun and also rhythm. There are songs throughout and the choreography from Ann Yee is excellent, not least in taking into account that the cast are not dancers. It’s a good way to inject much needed energy; Ewan Wardrop’s tap-dancing CEO proves a real highlight. The music makes points – a manic lust for money and then panic with the Stock Market crash – while complementing the sketch-like quality of the play itself. With the motif of marathon dancing competitions that runs throughout the play, Chavkin’s vision is clear, akin to a live Reginald Marsh painting, but the scenes themselves amount to little, feeling anecdotal or didactic. It’s Chavkin’s skill to weave them together so skilfully – and it’s easy to see why she is one to watch. Still, this play isn’t one to give time to.

Until 30 March 2019

www.oldvictheatre.com

Photos by Manuel Harlan

“Big Fish” at The Other Palace

For this musical version of Daniel Wallace’s novel, John August has adapted his own screenplay from Tim Burton’s film and produced a satisfyingly theatrical show. Big Fish fits into a genre of Americana started by Thornton Wilder’s This Town that celebrates everyday life with a magical touch. At times it is captivating.

Edward Bloom is the not-so-average Joe who is our hero and, as he approaches death, he recounts some wild and wonderful tales about his life. These stories have – somewhat inexplicably – alienated his fact-driven reporter son, Will. Their reconciliation makes the show a family drama of low stakes – and the journey the latter has to take to embrace his father’s optimism is too gentle to be compelling.

Kelsey Grammer takes the lead, ably abetted by Jamie Muscato who appears as Joe’s younger self, and delivers the star factor: he sells the character of a travelling salesman superbly and is a strong enough comedian to make a bad joke go a long way. Matthew Seadon-Young plays son Will, giving a dedicated performance with a strong voice, but his character doesn’t convince. It’s a problem shared by the roles of wives to both men – capably performed by Frances McNamee and Clare Burt – who are sketched with depressing brevity.

The music and lyrics by Andrew Lippa fail to excite – a collection of try-hard numbers that feel forced and end up forgettable. Yet as a chamber piece Big Fish has charm. It’s when we see an ambition to be big that the cracks show; there isn’t the power to deliver a big West End feel here. Tom Rogers’ design is a case in point – clever, even charming, but inventive rather than impressive.

With too much sentimentality – fathers and sons skimming stones on a river is always a bad sign – the death bed reconciliation ends up uncomfortably long. I had plenty of time to check, in case I was just cold and heartless, and there was barely a wet eye in the house. “Part epic tale, part fire sale” is a description of Bloom’s life that could have been a warning – mixing the show’s simplicity with attempts at grandeur fails too many times, and director Nigel Harman struggles to accommodate the piece’s inconsistencies.

Until 31 December 2018

www.theotherpalace.co.uk

Photo by Tristram Kenton