“There are some very strong, exciting ideas here, but they’ve been mostly lost along the way”
Set in a near dystopian future in the now decaying but still fabulous Savoy Hotel, the premise of 100 Paintings, as directed by Zachary Hart, seems a perfect marriage of punk and glamour. With the strange addition of an artist trying to produce 100 paintings for the hotel so that he and his mother, otherwise destitute, can stay, there’s an abundance of potential for this to be perfectly bizarre, funny and full of meaningful pathos.
Unfortunately, writer Jack Stacey has missed the mark by a rather long way. Instead, we’ve got a very broad dramedy about an overbearing mother (Denise Stephenson) and an over-mothered son (Conrad Williamson), with occasional unexplained mentions of a destroyed city beyond the bedroom walls. When we’re introduced to Bea (Jane Christie) for example, she’s wearing a respirator mask, and her face is covered in soot. Ooh intriguing. But then we’re fed a subplot that has absolutely nothing to do with the outside, about her recently deceased dad having an eighteen-year affair. Honestly, what is this show about?
Everyone plays their parts well enough; it’s all very yelly and enunciated, but that seems appropriate for the sort of panto-like comedy Stacey has gone for: “Oh it’s on the tip of my tongue”, says mother. “Well stick out your tongue then!” her son quips.
Designer Zsofia Sarosi has done well to create a messy bohemia: stylish wallpaper suitable for a five-star hotel, now peeling and ripped, is covered with irreverent streaks of paint; a dainty drinks trolly is stacked with brushes and empty bottles, and a little coffee table is piled high with teacups and paint pots.
There are some very strong, exciting ideas here, but they’ve been mostly lost along the way. Perhaps if it were simply a mother-son dramedy, without the added mystery of a dystopian future, it wouldn’t feel so disappointing in its execution, and it would certainly be a lot less confusing. Alas.
“It is a joy ride, although it does sometimes feel like you’re riding on a bus full of teenagers”
So where exactly did the stereotype originate? The Blonde Stereotype that is. Negative (‘dumb blonde’) or otherwise (‘blonde bombshell’), the perception of blonde-haired women has ignored the lack of evidence that suggests that blondes are less intelligent than other people. The first recorded ‘dumb blonde’ appeared in a French play in 1775; “Les Curiosités de la Foire’. She was dumb in the literal sense in that she didn’t talk much. Since then, blondes have had more fun, gentlemen have preferred them, and Hitchcock has fetishized them.
In 2001, writer Amanda Brown wrote about her experience as a blonde at Stanford Law School in various letters to friends which later became a novel and the box office success that was “Legally Blonde”. The musical, with music and lyrics by Laurence O’Keefe and Nell Benjamin and book by Heather Hach, opened on Broadway in 2007 to mixed reviews. It’s West End run, starring Sheridan Smith, won three Olivier Awards, including Best Actress in a Musical for Smith.
The temptation is strong to focus on the possible relevance the story might have in today’s society. It is a cliché to state that times have certainly changed since the narrative themes burst forth into our consciousness. But it is safe to say that Lucy Moss’ staging is as self-aware as it can possibly be. Moss, riding on the global success “Six”, brilliantly uses the opportunity to satirise pretty much every stereotype possible. Nobody is safe. But what is extraordinary under her direction is the sheer sense of fun she brings to the production.
“Six” alumni Courtney Bowman commands the stage as the central character, Elle. Heartbroken after being dumped by her boyfriend Warner (Alistair Toovey) for not being serious enough, she decides she can win him back by showing she can achieve the same ambitions in the legal profession as him. In a plot line that loses touch with any form of credibility, she is accepted into the law school, rises high against odds and prejudices and eventually surpasses Warner. Along the way, everybody is put in their place, including misogynist law professors, jealous perjurers, closet gays. In fact, the characters who come out on top are the underdogs. The seemingly vacuous who ultimately reveal more depth than those who mock them.
Despite being hindered by a predominantly unmemorable score, the show still wins us over with its anergy and infectious comedy. And a couple of musical delights. The wit of O’Keefe and Benjamin’s lyrics shine through in particular during “Serious”, “Blood in the Water” and “Gay or European” which is surely the highlight of the night. It is miraculous how the words are sung so clearly with tongues so firmly set in the cheek. Homophobia, jingoism, and a whole host of other ‘isms’ are shot to the ground in a joyous few minutes of musical theatre snap, crackle and pop. Act Two opener, “Whipped Into Shape” showcases Ellen Kane’s slick choreography, pushing the all singing, all dancing ensemble to the limit.
“Legally Blonde” retains its comedy and loses none of its subversiveness in this brash and thoroughly camp production at Regents Open Air Theatre. It is a joy ride, although it does sometimes feel like you’re riding on a bus full of teenagers. Whilst there is little room for subtlety against the backbeat and spectacle, the current MT trend to introduce a Disney, cartoon-like, nasal shrillness to the delivery does grate over a couple of hours. But it’s worth it to reach the happy ending, buoyed up by the feel-good sensations that bounce the evening along.
