Singin' in the Rain at Milton
Keynes Theatre
When it comes to
musicals, my two favourite shows inhabit opposite ends of the spectrum
regarding content. West Side Story
is a gritty tragedy despite its dance routines and occasional lighter moments
(Officer Krupke anyone?), whilst Singing
In The Rain is a joyous celebration of the business of entertainment. Both
have a romance at the heart of the story, but only one has a happy ending.
I recently enjoyed
Steven Speilberg’s re-make of West Side
Story, which resisted the temptation to update the locale or the ethnic
make-up of its protagonists whilst delivering even more light and shade than
the original. Essentially a modern take on Romeo and Juliet, its portrayal of
the difficulties of growing up and leaving youthful recklessness behind was
played out in a locale where tradition was being overtaken by modernity,
leaving the local inhabitants marginalised. This provided context to the gang
rivalry, showing the insecurity behind the bravado, whilst the building sites
that were physically transforming the landscape were the perfect backdrop to
the Sharks and Jets stand-offs.
As for Singing in the Rain, I recently caught
the stage show at Milton Keynes Theatre. The original 1952 film had a degree of
staginess about it, with enclosed locations (the movie lot, the producer’s
office and a narrow street), so it proved to be easily transferrable to the
stage. This production has something the film to some extent lacked; namely
some electrifying group routines featuring the majority of the cast, including
the opening and closing scenes. The ensemble cast were excellent, with energy
to spare, and some great choreography that set a scene story through complex
interlocking moves and shapes. Nowhere was this more effective than the closing
routine which deployed coloured umbrellas and suits to great effect. I for one
thought it simply joyous.
The main protagonists, Kathy
and Don, with support from Cosmo and Lina, were portrayed with brio and degrees of
subtlety. The age difference between Debbie Reynolds and Gene Kelly in the
original tends to grate on modern audiences. The pair in this production seem
more of an age and manage to spark chemistry from the outset (when they both
affect to despise each other even as they feel the mutual attraction). The odd
man out, Cosmo, plays his part as wisecracking sidekick well, whilst also
portraying a degree of pathos when forced to play gooseberry as the other two
become lovers, that hints at the sadness behind the mask of the funny man.
The other main
character is Lina Lamont, tricky to play as she is the obstacle to Kathy’s
advancement and an obvious figure of fun. In this production she is also witty,
sexy and spirited, which adds to the story’s depth. After the first half of the
show has ended on the high of the title song, complete with an actual downpour,
she injects some mild jeopardy into the others plans by consulting a lawyer and
challenging their plans to side-line her. Her spirited fightback has the
audience warming to her and showing appreciation of her solo number.
On the night we were
there (the first night at Milton Keynes) I sensed some initial nervousness, but
it soon wore off as the cast got into their stride. The classic set-piece songs
were well delivered, with the routine for Moses
Supposes very inventive and Good
Morning transposed to the street. The integration of a street bench into
that routine reminded me that many of the dance moves were familiar from
Strictly come Dancing.
This production also
brought out the strengths of Singing in the Rain. For all that the film dates
from 1952 it is a post-modern tale. Filmed in 1952 about the roaring ‘20’s, the
time travel element is enhanced when watching it in 2022. It is also very
knowing. The use of the radio presenter/gossip columnist to narrate parts of
the action is clever, and was innovative in 1952.. This production makes use of
the presenter to address the audience directly, something that creates an immediate connection in a show, even better than an aside to camera. In the years following the film, the Radio
voice as narrator turns up in some very different films such as 1979’s The
Warriors, where a New York gang face a violent journey back to their home turf
after being framed at a gang happening, and Vanishing Point, where a radio DJ
follows a lone anti-hero’s progress as he is chased by police.
The scene featuring Gotta Dance, which brings to life
Cosmo’s suggestions to the producer to introduce a fantasy sequence linking the
present to Eighteenth Century France, is breathtakingly post-modern and mirrors
montage scenes in many other films over the years. On stage the routine made good use of lighting and dry ice to weave its magic and carry the audience along.
Throughout the show the device of exposing
of the nuts and bolts of making a film/putting on a show has parallels in films
such as 42nd Street and ultimately harks back to the play within a
play device of Shakespeare’s Hamlet. Nowhere is this shown to better effect than when Don takes Kathy to a deserted studio and introduces each element of artifice; the backdrop, the music, lighting, and wind to set the scene for his wooing.
So, the key question?
did I enjoy it? Yes, immensely, all the more so in the light of the enforced
closure of theatres during the Pandemic. After the curtain call, the most iconic scene of all, the title song,
was reprised in yet another downpour on the stage, with the lead trio generously
sharing the deluge with the front row. As I said, simply Joyous! Although the run at Milton Keynes is over, the show is touring the country, including Nottingham, Bradford and Birmingham. I would certainly recommend it.
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