“it was utterly impossible to not be moved by the all-consuming singing of Alexia Khadime”
Scott Alan’s new song cycle, The Distance You Have Come, at the Cockpit Theatre is an apologetically raw evening, of six actors, 26 songs and a lot of heartstrings pulled out. It was, at first, difficult to see what held the individual songs together (besides an obvious love of American musical theatre) but the powerful performances and commitment to unadulterated emotion got us there in the end.
The songs were stapled together by a, sometimes contrived, shared setting in a park and their theme of achievement of any type. Two men fell in love and became fathers. A young recovering alcoholic overcame the split with his partner. Two women left one another as one became a surrogate mother and the other stalked the park looking for men to sing songs with. The show was redemptive as characters moved from cynicism and despair to success and fulfilment, but ‘redemption’ was less the strong intellectual glue needed and more attractive wallpaper over the thematic gaps between songs.
The performances were almighty as individual efforts, leaving no meaningful gaze ungazed and no high note unhit. This young cast clearly has great futures ahead of them (and some already have great pasts behind them), with commitment, energy and vocal talent oozing out of each pore. Jodie Jacobs (Anna) stood out as a respite from the High School Musical style which is all pervasive in a musical theatre and it was utterly impossible to not be moved by the all-consuming singing of Alexia Khadime (Laura).
With these invincible performances, the show was occasionally let down by strange decisions and a few lazy choices, lyrically and on stage. Cliche was the name of the game as an ‘alcoholic’ sipped from a hip flask and was tormented by masked and hooded abstract figures. The set was a strange fusion of nature and bougie restaurant with a giant leaf on the floor, a tree above and bare filament light bulbs hanging from the rafters. Lyrically this show pushed the boundaries of where normal musical theatre cheese meets lazy cliche with lines like ‘A home is where the heart is meant to be and you’ll always have a home inside of me’ feeling empty and tired. It was a shame to see small issues not dealt with (it wasn’t the first night) with actors performing to empty corners and the speakers consistently buzzing over one particularly popular high note.
This all said, The Distance You Have Come is not a show to be dissected or understood, but a show which enjoyably surrounds you with enough emotion that you can’t help but go along with it. The themes were contrived and the technical aspects were loose, but the exposed and unapologetic emotion of the performance culminated in a predictably moving evening.
“a strange brew of classical mythology and sex comedy, although it is often hard to tell what the story is at all”
Only by the time I’m on the bus, halfway to the venue, do I notice the proviso: “Not for the faint-hearted”. In all honesty, I had only had a brief glance at the show’s description before setting off, and what I half-expected to be a modern take on Greek comedy is in fact billed as a blend of “musical theatre, circus, and burlesque”. And “not for the faint-hearted”.
The plot line of “Zeus on the Loose” is a strange brew of classical mythology and sex comedy, although it is often hard to tell what the story is at all. It starts with a scheme between Hades and Hera to abduct Aphrodite’s twin and prevent the sisters from overpowering all the gods of Olympus (how or why they would do this is unclear). Concurrently, Hera is having husband issues; the insatiable King of the gods, Zeus, has committed one infidelity too many, convincing Hera to side with Hades (though again, quite why abducting Aphrodite’s sister constitutes betraying Zeus is never made clear). By the end I’ve pretty well lost track of both these plotlines, except that Hera ends up going to hell herself and doesn’t really seem too worried about it.
Randomly placed scenes follow one after the other, often with no discernible linkage. There are occasionally actual gaps in the music and dialogue as if to highlight this fact. Why, halfway through the show, do Zeus and Hera play a game called “Gods & Mortals” in which various characters compete in a choreographed battle? Sure, it’s a good excuse for a dance sequence, but I keep wondering why. The writing plays liberally (that is to say, inaccurately) with Greek mythology, which would be totally fine if only the characters didn’t feel the need to keep making a joke out of it. All the way through, the show makes overly difficult work of a plot that is really just a vehicle for the circus and burlesque.
Perhaps it is unfair to criticise the plot of a show too much when really the main attraction is in the singing, dancing and, yes, stripping. There are some genuinely impressive acrobatics on show including a terrifyingly athletic trapeze act and a woman shooting arrows at a target with her feet. I have to admit that bit gets me to sit up in a way that the burlesque elements really don’t. True, it is quite a spacious theatre and I’m not that close to the action, but for a play that begins with instructions on how to escape if the raunchiness gets too much, it doesn’t hugely shock or excite. The explained-away appearance of Cleopatra (Zeus’s cousin and lover, apparently) gives an excuse for a feathery, pharaonic striptease, but that’s about as saucy as it gets. I can’t help the feeling that both the provisos – and Hades’ constant innuendoes – oversell things slightly. Anyway, there are a couple of children in the front row, so the producers couldn’t have been planning anything too extreme. Good thing the kids aren’t “faint-hearted”.
In general, the performers make a good fist of it. The aforementioned circus acts are genuinely exciting, albeit a bit thin on the ground, and it is quite fun to hear Greek gods singing along to classic rock hits. Hades in particular keeps things running along relatively smoothly, and in his role as charming-but-deadly narrator he keeps the audience well-entertained.
On paper the concept sounds enticing, fusing musical theatre, circus and burlesque, and there is no doubt a version of this show exists in which the fusion comes together. However, on this occasion, the fun is both overstated and underwritten.
