“From the prologue to the epilogue the atmosphere is quite electric.”
Most of us live in the real universe most of the time. For over thirty years now, Quentin Tarantino has led us intermittently into the ‘realer than real’ universe. There are similarities, and connections to real-life sources but everything is “more”. Exaggerated, graphic, stylised, violent. The unreal becomes reality, and vice versa. Most of us have dipped – or dived – into (at varying depths) the Tarantino Cinematic Universe and emerged with the soundtrack still swimming around our heads. The films make us listen to the music in a different way. “Tarantino Live” takes the songs and brings them to life once more in a stunning, genre-defying, mash-up, immersive rock musical.
Woven into this bold, full-throated rock concert is the iconic Tarantino dialogue. It doesn’t matter in the slightest whether you’re a die-hard fan, or completely unfamiliar with the films; what unfolds before your eyes, and ears, will make you look at theatre in a different way. Most of the music stems from the era of vinyl but the structure of the show is built around the modern concept of the playlist. Split into chapters rather than scenes there is no chronological logic. The points of view, close ups, wide angles, jump cuts and crossfades are scattered around the studio like gunfire. The action takes place on the stage as well as around us and amongst us. It is relentless but we can’t get enough.
It’s full title, “Tarantino Live: Fox Force Five & The Tyranny of Evil Men”, loosely sums up the concept. The ‘Fox Force Five’ comprise a group of superwomen made up of five of Tarantino’s most iconic female characters as they take on the ‘Tyranny of Evil Men’ in a battle of revenge. The concept gets swept aside, however, by the sheer power and skill of the vocal performances. To single anyone out would be merely to reel off the entire cast list, just as to attempt to match the actors with the characters would be like trying to follow a chaotic medley of accelerated rolling credits. It is possible, but my word count advises against it. Needless to say, the talent on display is so much more than a triple threat. The lines between orchestra and cast, lead and ensemble, actor, singer, dancer, musician are blurred.
The disciplines are brought together seamlessly, the show having evolved over the last decade. ‘For The Record’, led by adapter and director Anderson Davis with associate director and choreographer Sumie Maeda, launched the show at The Bourbon Room, a small bar on Hollywood Boulevard in Los Angeles in 2010. Immediately a ‘must see’ cabaret show, it was awarded the seal of approval from Tarantino himself, and along the way has been adapted in response to each new addition to Tarantino’s canon of work.
From the prologue to the epilogue the atmosphere is quite electric. It is simultaneously like a roller coaster ride but also not. It’s not Hollywood, nor film, nor musical theatre, nor rock gig. Yet it is all of those. It throws in the air different scenes from different movies, but when they land there is a kind of beginning and middle and end. But even if it doesn’t make sense – from the prologue to the epilogue we are transfixed. Motionless while our heads spin. And we could go on the journey again and again. It is a must, whether you’re a Tarantino geek or if you’ve never seen a Tarantino film in your life. At least you’ll be familiar with the (thirty-plus) classic songs. But not in this context.
Unlike anything you’ll come across in London at the moment, “Tarantino Live” is, in a nutshell, theatre with attitude.
THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION at the Cambridge Arts Theatre
★★★
“a stage production of such a well-known and iconic film is a brave thing to undertake”
To present such an opening impression of the Shawshank Maximum Security Penitentiary is an impressive undertaking for a touring production (Designer Gary McCann). The walls are built high on two levels with a gantry across the top upon which a uniformed guard paces, rifle in hand. Painted an institutional two-tone green, it is grubby and depressing. Extra set is flown in to move the action into Andy’s cell, the library, or the Governor’s office but otherwise the central open space acts for all other areas within the prison. Stark lighting (Designer Chris Davey) provides a foreboding mood but particularly in the early scenes actors are too often caught out of position and are lost into shadow. The echoing effects of metallic doors clanging far away increases the sallow mood (Designer Andy Graham).
Short snappy scenes are efficiently set – pulling on a cell bed, dragging away tables – with noise and commotion provided by the ensemble of prisoners who freeze to allow our attention to focus on the main action. Despite the inclusion of three understudies in this performance, the movement of the ensemble is slick (Director David Esbjornson).
Just as the character Red provides a voice-over in the film, so here he (Ben Onwukwe) narrates the story direct to the audience. Onwukwe has a magnetic presence and his empathy is engaging as he guides us through his friendship with the convicted double-murderer Andy Dufresne (Joe Absolom) and their life-long prison journeys. The two actors work comfortably with each other and their tender feeling contrasts with the general coldness and detachment of the rest of prison life. Absolom’s tenor voice and staccato delivery stands him apart from the rest. He broods around the edges of the stage, gazing downwards, and whilst his dialogue of never more than a few words at a time emphasises his character’s reticence it doesn’t help us to understand the man behind the silence either.
Despite the importance of the two central characters, the most successful scenes concern the full ensemble of prisoners. Dressed in identical prison uniform of brown boots and denim jeans they resemble a motley chorus line. Leigh Jones as Rooster gives a magnificent performance despite some inconsistency in his character’s violent demeanour, with his affected maniacal laughter and aggressive posture genuinely threatening. Kenneth Jay as old-timer librarian Brooksie provides a most moving performance in his reluctance to accept his parole. Coulter Dittman is given little opportunity to develop car-thief Tommy Williams but grasps excellently with what he has. And on the other side of the bars, the gravelled bass of Mark Heenehan as corrupt Governor Warden Stammas is consistently strong, exuding the authority of his position and his abuse of it.
Ultimately though, a stage production of such a well-known and iconic film is a brave thing to undertake, although we are clearly informed that the starting point is Stephen King’s original novella, not the film. The adaptation (by Owen O’Neill and Dave Johns) forgoes much of the detail – we don’t see just how clever Andy is being nor just how corrupt the Governor is – and with the limitations of a stage we don’t see the full grimness of prison life nor either the beauty or the pain of an escape from it. Despite the best of intentions and this most worthy ensemble cast, the play can only serve as a reminder of how good the film is.
