Wedekind’s Frühlings erwachen is a ‘famous’ play. ‘Famous’ in a Lady Chatterley’s Lover way. There’s nothing like some healthy
banning and censoring to help a work to become ‘famous’. Personally, I don’t
see anything censor-worthy in it, perhaps because I was borne into this world
fifty-five years later than the play, and am of a reasonably unfettered turn of
mind, but anyway, the play with its ‘naughty’ ‘forbidden’ subjects and ‘rude’
words made its name and fame at the turn of the century, became a subject for
devoted study, and ultimately reached the apotheosis of being several times
made into a musical. The most recent, American, version (Sheik/Sater) has done well.
I had never seen
it, until today, when I headed to Christchurch’s Court Theatre to see the
graduating NASDA students of 2014 play this version, and the wise ones
predicted that I might not like it. I wonder why. The only reason that I would
‘dislike’ (or as theatricals say, ‘hate’) a show would be if it were
incompetently written, directed, performed … and this was none of those.
So, has Frühlings erwachen made up into a
satisfying musical? By and large, yes. I was uneasy through the first part of
Act I, which seemed too naïve, too black-and-white … but when the best songs of
the night (‘The Word of your body’ and the splendid ‘The Dark I know well’)
arrived, one after the other, we moved into a different and much more warmly three-dimensional
part of the show, which gave the performers much more into which to get their
teeth. The last stages of the show verge on the melodramatic, but that is
Wedekind’s fault. 19th century audiences, like today’s TV Midsomer Murders-watchers, were accustomed to piling up the bodies,
and death by abortion was not so unusual …
The score,
splendidly lavish in its use of ensembles, popped out its couple of stand-outs
(writing this, next morning, they are the only two I really remember), and even
if the lyrics included American slang which sat as uneasily with the Anglo-German
text as the odd mix of male hairdos did with the period costumes, the best bits
were grand.
Of course, it
helps a text and a score hugely if they are well, aptly and even exceptionally
performed. Which they were. In spite of the problems inherent in having a
student cast playing mostly 14 year-olds and adults.
The central
character of Melchior (age 14), was quite beautifully played by Josh Johnson.
His acting was utterly believable and touching, his still developing singing
voice brushed the falsetto notes of his last song amazingly sweetly, and he let
rip with surprising steadiness and vigour on ‘Totally Fucked’. OK, he didn’t
seem quite 14 ... but neither did anyone else. And it didn’t matter. It was
just a splendid, heart-warming piece of musical-theatre. A winner.
His sweetheart, Wendla
(age 14), was played by Emily Burns. I last saw Miss Burns playing (well) a
Caribbean goddess with a belt number in Once
on this Island. This was incomparably better. She invested the young girl
with an enormous, real naivete and sweetness, without for a moment slipping
into the ‘traditional ingenue’ manner, in a performance of truly lovely
quality. Of course, a strong, warm and wide-ranging chest voice helps. But it
was her drama that got to me: her cry as she was carried off by the abortionist
was both horrible and memorable.
As I’ve already
said, my favourite number in this show was ‘The Dark I know well’ and it got a
magnificent performance from Becky Button (Martha) and Imogen Prossor (Ilse).
Miss Button (another ex-Caribbean goddess) acted the role of the father-abused
Martha with moving effect, and sang her part of the duet impeccably. And Miss
Prossor … yes. A very big ‘yes’. Just occasionally a young performer leaps out
to me. I can’t always pick the whole reason why, but anyhow Miss Prossor is one
of these. In the old days, I would have taken her on as a client. She has ‘it’.
She also has a rich, full mezzo-to-alto voice, which she uses perfectly, and
her acting simply exudes the quality of warmth. She had impressed me greatly in
the previous show, and I was delighted to see her confirm all the very-good
that I had thought of her then. She was perfectly cast as the liberated Ilse.
Amongst the other
boys, Adam Spedding played the screwed-up Moritz. I am not sure why he had an Uncle Tom’s Cabin Topsy hair-do; I found
it terribly distracting. He looked like a misfit from the start, behaved liked
a misfit ... perhaps this is how the role is written? But Moritz doesn’t come
over as sympathetic, as the other youngsters do, he just comes over as screwed-up.
Spedding sang and danced with grand energy, as did the other lads (I was irresistibly reminded of Half a Sixpence and ‘Money to burn!), and Zak Enayat and Olly Humphries had a very special moment in a homosexual reprise of ‘The Word of Your Body’.
Spedding sang and danced with grand energy, as did the other lads (I was irresistibly reminded of Half a Sixpence and ‘Money to burn!), and Zak Enayat and Olly Humphries had a very special moment in a homosexual reprise of ‘The Word of Your Body’.
Strangely, the
young folk who played the adults of the piece somehow got nearer the ‘right’
age than those playing ‘down’. The women were impressively costumed and wigged
-- Frau Gabor’s wig was superb, and Wendla’s mother’s abortion-night outfit
made a fabulous black-hag picture – and the men? Well, Simon Watson played all
eight of them, most efficiently and clearly.
NASDA, as usual,
provided all the trappings for their students – 8 piece orchestra, clean
unfussy direction and choreography (original or carbon-copied I know not, but
it worked), a clever set (ditto) and excellent costumes. But I’m still a bit
confused by the boys’ hair.
As I said at the
end of the show – and after a night to think on it – 7 out of ten for the show,
9 point something for the performance …
extremely glad to have seen it. And the young performers.
