Carla Maria Verdino-Süllwold

There is nothing that lifts my spirits more or provides the much needed balm after a busy summer of work than my annual fall journey to London to take in what the West End has to offer.  This year, instead of flying, we made a transatlantic crossing with the Queen Mary 2 – a heady experience that conjured up the luxuries of past travel. And once in London, we headed almost immediately for the theatres.

Our first evening was Ghost Stories, a minimalist production in the tiny Sam Wanamaker Theatre within the confines of the Globe complex. The tiny pentagonal shaped space with a thrust stage and wooden benches seemed a mini-Globe, albeit enclosed, and the stage decor consists of a latticework of lit candles that gradually are extinguished as the evening progressed. The script comprises four interrelated tales by Tassa Deparis, James McDermott, Eloise Pennycott and Aisha Zia, directed by Emmy Ling Williams, is performed by Becky Barry and Sharan Phull. The actresses give remarkable sensory performance, creating with voice and movement the haunting effects of the tales.  If there is a criticism, it is that the play relies too much on narration – on telling- and very little on action. Still its power of lyrical language to stimulate the imagination is, in itself, impressive.

Our second outing, a new musical playing at the Ambassador Theatre, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, proved to be the highlight of the week for me. With book and lyrics by Jethro Compton and music and lyrics by Darren Clark, this small cast folk opera captures the spirit of F. Scott Fitzgerald's original story, as well as the Cornish folkscape and Celtic idiom in which it is set. Largely sung through with short interludes of lyrical dialogue, the musical recounts the bittersweet tale of Benjamin Button, born old whose life takes him backwards into infancy.  Compton (with expert help from choreographer, Chi-San Howard) is also responsible for the unit set that morphs into so many locales and the fluid staging that incorporates the musicians into the action. John Dagleish does a stellar job of playing the title character through all the phases of his life with a quiet dignity, while Philippa Hogg is touching as his wife, with the rest of the cast vividly playing multiple roles.  Poignant, inspirational, deeply human, Benjamin Button is a tale told with humor and compassion in a musical setting that is irresistibly uplifting.

In contrast that evening, we visited the Trafalgar Theatre for an adaptation of John Webster's 17th century revenge play, The Duchess of Malfi. Grateful to be able to see this rarely performed work, I was also puzzled and put off by the inconsistencies of the production's modernization and the superimposed 21st century reading of a feminist struggle. Director Zinnie Harris chooses to modernize much of the dialogue, thereby obviating the unrhymed verse of Webster's original.  Somewhat jarringly, however, some noted speeches remain exactly as they are in the original.  Harris adds songs – which is consistent with Elizabethan/Jacobean drama - though they, too, seem incongruous. Perhaps most discordant is the clear overlay of a modern perspective on the Duchess's fate as a woman manipulated, abused, and ultimately destroyed by the men around her. As compelling and shattering as this viewpoint makes the second act with its scenes of torture and murder, it completely misses the perspective of Webster's play. The revenge play is a genre meant to deliver bloody sensationalism - gore, horror, ghosts – in short, as many dead bodies as possible as the curtain falls. Jacobean audiences would likely not have seen the Duchess as a heroine battling male dominance, but a frail woman of flesh and blood who meets the justice  of the time at the hands of the Church and her brothers.  The performance that Jodie Whittaker delivers defies this interpretation, and is, in and of itself, forceful and compelling, with strong support from Joel Fry as Antonio and Jude Owusu as Bosola.  The décor and costumes by Tom Piper complete the modernization of the work, setting it in a black/white/gray universe of desolation, while the sound design of Michael John McCarthy adds to the horrors of Act Two. Despite all these caveats, it was well worth the chance to see a revival of this work, even with its divergence from the original.

From dark Jacobean tragedy, our odyssey took us to two more musicals, Mrs. Doubtfire and The Devil Wears Prada.  Mrs. Doubtfire with a book, music, and lyrics by Wayne and Karey Kirkpatrick (and John O'Farrell, additional lyrics) follows closely the beloved Robin Williams' movie in plot and ultimate message about family, individuality, and acceptance.  The Kirkpatricks find the quirky humor in their characters and situations; their lyrics are clever and witty, and their music melodic enough to be appealing. The comedy of the show depends on the virtuosity of the actor playing Daniel Hillard/Mrs. Doubtfire, who must portray two different roles in two genders and be gifted with an array of voices and impersonation skills.  On the evening we attended, understudy Billy Roberts stepped into the role and made it his own. Vocally strong, a lively impersonator with a strong sense of comic timing, he also managed to guide the cast home to the finale of family reunion, warmth, and love. Catherine Zuber's costumes contribute greatly to the overall effect, while David Korins' décor and Philip S. Rosenberg's lighting skillfully provided the many changing locales. Jerry Zaks (with choreography by Lorin Latarro) directs with a sure-hand, a comic flair, and an unerring instinct for the showstopping moments.

Similarly derived from a movie, the new musical The Devil Wears Prada was still in previews when we saw it. Clearly, this opulent, glitzy production at the Dominion Theatre is aiming to fill the slot that Moulin Rouge held. With music by Elton John, lyrics by Shaina Taub and Mark Sonnenblick, book by Gareth Owen, directed and choreographed by Jerry Mitchell, and Vanessa Williams as Miranda Priestly, this musical exudes glamour and star power.  But in the early performance we saw, there is also a great deal of tweaking needed. The book follows the movie 's plot quite closely, and the subject matter allows for dazzling sets and costumes - which Tim Hatley and Gregg Barnes deliver. Bruno Poet's lighting design delivers all the effects of the runway, but Gareth Owen's sound design, at the performance we saw, was gravely in need of reworking - the lyrics muddied, the vocalists overwhelmed by the orchestra.  Williams looks stunning as the imperious Priestly, and she manages her essentially patter songs respectably, but she does not tower over the performance as she should. Instead, the finest performances come from newcomer Georgie Buckland as Andy and Amy Di Bartolomeo as Emily – both with belt-it-to-the-rafters vocal power, strong dance skills, and incisive characterizations. Matt Henry as Nigel gets one of the show's most sympathetic ballads, but one has the sense he has yet to grow fully into the role. It is likely fair to expect this production will make its way to Broadway next, and it will be fascinating to see how it has grown in the interim.

After two lighthearted evenings, we took in Shakespeare's Coriolanus at the Olivier Theatre in the National Theatre complex. Brilliantly staged and performed, this late Shakespearean drama lacks the visceral quality of some of his best history-tragedies.  The central character is Coriolanus, a Roman general whose heroism is diluted by his tragic flaw: rigid lack of empathy for the people. A warrior with no diplomatic skills, Coriolanus makes a dismal choice for Consul, and forced to leave Rome and ally himself with former enemies, his quest for revenge on his birthplace results in his own death when he yields to his mother and wife's pleas to spare the city. Directed by Lyndsey Turner with stunning black/white projections and elegant sculptural decor by Es Devlin (video, Ash J. Woodward), stark lighting by Tim Lutkin and chilling sound design by Tom Gibbons, the visual production is the Olivier Theatre at its best.  So, too, the cast, led by David Oyelowo in a towering performance as Coriolanus, with strong support throughout the roster. Even if Coriolanus is not one of Shakespeare best plays, a thoughtful, striking production such as this one can still grip the viewer.

The final evening was spent at the Lyric Theatre with the West End production of Anaïs Mitchell's Hadestown. This gem of a show proves to be inspirational and uplifting wherever it goes, so perhaps it is churlish of me to suggest that the Broadway cast far outshone this West End one that seemed a little out of its element with the Motown/New Orleans idiom of the music, the dialect, and some of the vocal demands.  That said, the cast and musicians deliver a committed performance that ultimately compels from the force of the material: a truly timeless myth, a lively lyrical setting, and an exquisitely poetic libretto. The British audience was mesmerized and, and their enthusiasm was catchy. 

After all, on the day after a disastrous American election, how could one resist the message of this beautiful work. A poet, an artist descends into hell to save the love of his life.  Even when he fails, his song is not stilled.  In the finale of Hadestown,  Persephone reaffirms life, light in the darkness, and the courage to sing on when she says: "…the one who sings in the dead of night, I raise my glass to him."

There is going to be plenty of darkness ahead, so we will all have to listen keenly for the song that holds the light.