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.
“With its creative and production heft, this will undoubtably be around a long time”
Born in ancient Egypt and delivered via an unconventional route, this new work from the creators of Wicked (Dreamwork Theatricals) arrives kicking and ululating in the mighty palace of London’s Dominion Theatre. Having first been an animated feature film, this is the story of Moses told with a lot less religion and a lot more bromance, tracking the relationship between young Ramses and his foundling sibling as they grow close, then apart, then further apart.
A thrillingly executed chariot race kicks off an evening of peerless creative arts, from choreography to video projections, from wardrobe to set design. Then, as Ramses (Liam Tamne) steps up to fill the Pharaonic boots of his father Seti (Joe Dixon), Moses heads the other way down the pecking order, by falling for an enslaved dancer, Tzipporah (Christine Allado). Exile ensues as he pursues her into the embrace of the desert-based Midianites, a blissful commune lead by the genial Jethro (Gary Wilmot) who teach him how to dance in 5/4 time. After meeting up with his previously lost family, in particular sister Miriam (Alexia Khadime), Moses realises his identity and takes up the cause of those Hebrew slaves still slogging themselves to death on Ramses’ pyramids.
Enslaved to an unwieldy source, the script by Philip LaZebnik suffers under the strain, with wars and plagues, exile and deliverance having to be explained through the eyes of two brothers in the few gaps between 25 musical numbers. With so much work to do in a small space of time, some lines edge beyond parody. “Moses!! I haven’t seen you in a long time” says Rameses as if spotting a mate in McDonald’s when Moses returns from exile to let his people go. “How did you let the people go?” complains High Priest Hotep (Adam Pearce) as if the multitude escaping was equivalent to losing your Oyster card. However, it does the job of keeping the action and effects speeding along, especially in the second half with plagues being visited with exhilarating brevity. Hotep is no sooner popping open his vestal top to reveal boils than meteors are descending on the backdrop. But this is all, as intended, creating a thundering, crowd-pleasing display, that bears little analysis (should we really applaud a plague?) but gives excellent opportunity for some impressive visuals. The design team in particular (Kevin Depinet’s set, Mike Billings’ lighting, Jon Driscoll’s projections and Chris Fisher’s illusions) create spectacular landscapes, pyramid interiors and Red Sea partings.
Great effort too has gone into Stephen Schwarz’ reworking of his own score. Best known for Wicked and Godspell, here his music and lyrics wrestle absorbingly with the constraints of Egyptian-sounding cadences (courtesy of Hollywood’s biblical blockbusters) and lilting Yiddish melodies, while blending in some old school rock opera and, inevitably, the saccharine sound of Disney Musicals. The cast is universally highly competent as you might expect, the dancers all limb-perfect in service of Sean Cheesman’s superb choreography. With the two leads perhaps lacking enough contrast, only Alexia Khadime truly soars vocally, but Christine Allado and Gary Wilmot join her in managing to project a third dimension to their originally two-dimensional characters. With its creative and production heft, this will undoubtably be around a long time, but doesn’t have the heart of a Lion King.
