“she naturally embodies her physicality and vulnerability with an ease that allows her to take full command of the material”
Since her death in 1963, Edith Piaf has become one of the most celebrated performers of the twentieth century, and there has been no shortage of biographies and films and tribute shows that have studied her life in various forms. âHymn to Loveâ, by dint of being a pared down interpretation focusing on a particular moment in the singerâs life, succeeds where others may have failed in terms of clarity and believability.
âIâm singing tonight. Thereâs nothing else. Nothing but singingâ says Piaf. We are in a Manhattan hotel room where she is rehearsing for her last US concert. But for Piaf the hotel holds memories. Eight years earlier she had telephoned her lover, the boxer Marcel Cerdan, begging him to overcome his fear of flying and leave France to be with her. Hours later she heard the terrible news that his plane had crashed. Marcel was dead.
Elizabeth Mansfield, who devised the production with Annie Castledine and Steve Trafford, does not attempt to impersonate Piaf, but instead she naturally embodies her physicality and vulnerability with an ease that allows her to take full command of the material.
The show is foremost a succession of greatest hits, interspersed with monologue that, by necessity, strays from the focus of her memories of Marcel Cerdan and drifts into the usual exposition of her early life, trying to connect it to the song lyrics. Although, refreshingly, much of the time it doesnât feel like a monologue. Patrick Bridgman accompanies on piano and, without saying a word throughout, manages to act and react to Mansfieldâs narrative so that we donât feel like weâre in a one woman show.
Midway through the show we leave the rehearsal room and we are at the concert for which she has been rehearsing. The chat stops, and we are in full performance mode where the songs come across with greater authenticity, and we catch a glimpse of the real drama in Mansfieldâs homage to Piaf. Fifteen of Piafâs songs are performed over the ninety minutes, including the old favourites âLa Vie En Roseâ, âNon, Je Ne Regrette Rienâ, âMilordâ and, of course the eponymous âHymne Ă lâAmourâ.
But there is something missing. It is generally accepted that Marcel Cerdan was the great love of Piafâs life, and that she would never really recover from the loss. She blamed herself for Cerdanâs untimely death and fell into a deep drug and alcohol-fuelled depression. It was all too much for the already fragile and tortured artist; and this is what is lost in Mansfieldâs slightly unchallenging portrayal. She does not always capture the thrill, or the chill of Piafâs persona: it is often difficult to imagine the heartbreak and the torment. Likewise, some of the English lyrics lack the melodrama inherent in the original French, so that what is gained in Mansfieldâs hauntingly authentic interpretation of the songs is slightly lost in translation.
This is a faithful hymn to Piafâs later years which needs, however, just a touch more dynamism in the staging for Mansfieldâs performance to fully take flight.
“Hannah Britland doesnât disappoint, she is a brilliant Boo”
It is hard to imagine the horror of being caught up in Katrina, the category five hurricane that caused catastrophic damage along the gulf coast of America in 2005. Along with claiming some 2,000 lives it caused $125 billion worth of property damage as well as having a profound impact on the environment.
To do justice to the panic, horror and loss those involved must have experienced in a stage show is very difficult. However Boo Killebrew has written a play that travels through many times and places and successfully achieves that.
The Play About My Dad is an autobiographical account of her own experiences of the event along with stories of some that experienced the full force of Katrina. Running alongside these stories, which are fictionalised versions of what likely happened to them, is her reaction to the breakdown of her parentâs marriage and the subsequent reconnection with her father following his survival of the hurricane.
The two main characters are Boo herself (Hannah Britland) and her father Larry (David Schaal), a doctor called into action when the storm struck and who serves as the playâs narrator. They are performing and writing a play that tells these stories and it is an interesting vehicle that allows Boo to interact with the characters despite her having been partying in New York at the time.
We are introduced to the young Thomas family who decide not to evacuate to safer ground. Joel Lawes as Jay Thomas projects a relaxed southern approach to life and always has a positive approach to survival not necessarily shared by his wife Rena (Annabel Bates) and son Michael (TâJai Adu-Yeboah). Also staying put is Larryâs elderly former nanny Essie Watson, played with conviction by Miquel Brown. Ammar Duffus and Nathan Welsh play two Emergency Medical Technicians and they connect and interact well every time they are on stage. There is pessimism and hope in equal measures. Juliet Cowan makes brief but impactive appearances as Sallye Killebrew.
Charlotte Espinerâs set is very basic with pallets, boxes and sheets of plywood that gives the impression of both protection and reconstruction. The lighting design from Ali Hunter is simple but effective with great use of blue under lighting to represent the incoming water and a chilling session when we listen to events in complete darkness.
The direction from Stella Powell-Jones moves the ninety minute no interval play along well ensuring attention is never lost. Elena PeĂąaâs sound design is clever keeping the studio levels of a 175mph hurricane low, though never out of mind.
I felt the cast did everything expected of them, and rarely did I think they were acting. For the writer though, it must be difficult watching someone portray her on stage. In the playbook she writes âAnd as for the actress playing Boo, please make her really likableâ. Hannah Britland doesnât disappoint, she is a brilliant Boo.