BEAUTIFUL LITTLE FOOL

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★

“Lauren Ward stands out as Scottie with an emotional and sensitive portrayal”

Much has been written about F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald – the iconic, glamorous and tragic ‘Golden Couple’ of the Jazz Age. Even without Fitzgerald’s novels, they need no introduction. The names Scott and Zelda have always remained the central figures of their era, epitomising its excesses. The focus is nearly always drawn to Scott’s heavy drinking and early death, and Zelda’s mental disorders and institutionalisation. Their story has become the template of the self-destructive side effects of creativity and fame, and their tragic marriage and career an irresistible subject for biographers. But their only daughter, born in 1926 at the height of her father’s early success, is probably the most reliable witness. And indeed, Frances Scott “Scottie” Fitzgerald was a vehement critic of biographers’ depictions which were invariably one dimensional.

It would be interesting to know what she would make of “Beautiful Little Fool”, the new musical by Mona Mansour (book) and Hannah Corneau (music and lyrics), which places Scottie centre stage, reflecting on her parents’ life from their first meeting up to their separate, sorrowful deaths. Scottie (Lauren Ward) is celebrating her forty-eighth birthday. She was always too young to sort out her parents’ lives, so now she is sorting out their archives. Mansour and Corneau have given her an easy task: what follows is a pretty simple potted history of the couple. Episodic and superficial. Interestingly, using a theatrical device that is sadly underexplored, Scottie periodically slips away from her narrative standpoint in the 1960’s to join them in the twenties and thirties and interact as an adult. Luckily, we are given the dates in the dialogue, as there is little else to evoke the time and setting. Corneau’s score reflects neither era, and pays little respect to the themes of Mansour’s script. ‘Nobody Parties Like Us’ opens the show, with the protagonists at mic stands wrestling with a pub-rock beat. By song number three, they seem to be stepping into a seventies power ballad – more Barry Manilow than Cab Calloway.

The dynamic lacks excitement and the band’s energy mirrors the unchanging pulse and pattern of the rhythms. Lyrically repetitive, they jar with the personalities singing them. But there is the crux – the characters themselves are under formed, merely scratching the surface of these multi-layered literary figures. Admittedly, the nature of musical theatre requires us to suspend our disbelief, but this is a real story about real people, and the belief comes crashing to the floor when a tortured genius of the jazz age reaches for the high belt.

The cast manage to rise above the material. Lauren Ward stands out as Scottie with an emotional and sensitive portrayal of a woman trying to make sense of her upbringing. The real-life Scottie had fewer complaints (“I didn’t consider it a difficult childhood at all. In fact, it was a wonderful childhood” she once remarked). David Hunter as F. Scott and Amy Parker as Zelda are in fine voice – particularly Parker who steps in as Zelda; usually played by composer and lyricist Corneau herself. There are moments when tensions run high and we get a very brief glimpse of the tempestuous relationship, but for the most part the emotional connection between F. Scott and Zelda is buried at the bottom of a whisky glass, topped with a dash of caricature and a twist of simplicity. We barely get a taste, and consequently learn little new.

Shankho Chaudhuri’s impressive, two-tiered set preserves the serious antiquity while still managing to recreate the party atmosphere when needed. But this concept doesn’t really transfer to the narrative. When we approach the twilight years, F. Scott has changed little. Hollywood broke him, but here we merely sense he is having a bad day at the office. The epilogue is drawn out, the emotional impact is cast out, and the sorrow and anguish is replaced by a sugary finale.

When Frances Scott “Scottie” Fitzgerald was born, Zelda emerged from the anaesthetic in a haze. “I’m drunk” she rambled, “Isn’t she smart… she has the hiccups. I hope it’s beautiful and a fool – a beautiful little fool”. These words reappeared later in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s ‘The Great Gatsby’ spoken by Daisy Buchanan. It’s the perfect title for a retrospective play that mixes biography with drama, told through the eyes of the daughter. “Beautiful Little Fool”, however, squanders the opportunity with a show that barely removes the blinkers and further veils its potential for insight with a musical that skims the surface without revealing what lies beneath.

BEAUTIFUL LITTLE FOOL

Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 22nd January 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Pamela Raith

MASTERCLASS

BEAUTIFUL LITTLE FOOL

★★★★

“an extraordinarily uplifting show”

Coming away from Deb Filler’s one woman show, I find myself wanting to invent a word: ‘Raconteurism’. I google it to make sure that it doesn’t exist. It doesn’t, so I feel satisfied that I have invented it. But my main feeling of satisfaction stems from having just spent an hour and a half in the company of a woman who takes ‘raconteurism’ to new heights. Filler surely has a master’s in ‘raconteurism’. Witty, self-deprecating, engaging, funny, poignant, trivial and crucial in equal measure. “Cohen, Bernstein, Joni & Me” is a love letter, not just to the three icons that have influenced her, but also to her family and her heritage. Almost a hymn to Yiddish culture and her own story that has been shaped by it.

As you’d expect from the title, music takes a prominent role, although she plays little. The guitar is more of a prop that she uses to punctuate her free-flowing repartee with pertinent lyrics from the likes of Leonard Cohen, Joni Mitchell and even Peter, Paul and Mary (the latter are excluded from the title of the show – despite the influence they may have had on a nine year old Deborah in the small suburb of Mount Roskill in Auckland, New Zealand).

She seems genuinely and humbly thrilled that we have turned up to see her on a wet January evening in London. But, to use the polite English cliché; the pleasure is entirely ours. Filler fills (excuse the pun) the space with her warm and generous personality but makes room to populate the stage with the many characters she has met on her life’s journey. It is a fascinating listen from start to finish. Her father was a Holocaust survivor but somehow, she states, he continued life without bitterness. It was music that sustained him. These traits of endurance and hope are echoed in Filler’s own story as she leads us through the musical milestones of her story, and the impact that they had on her.

First up is Leonard Bernstein. Filler recounts a story of how her father watched a performance, in 1948, of Bernstein conducting Gershwin’s ‘Rhapsody in Blue’ to concentration camp survivors at the Feldafing Displaced Persons Camp, and how it made him believe it was possible to build a new life after the war. Later, when Filler was at teacher training college in Auckland, she relates this to Bernstein himself who, in turn, wishes to meet her father. Her father is too busy at work in his bakery to accept, but sends a freshly baked challah (Jewish bread) to Bernstein. The significance of all this is later revealed by Filler in a heart-wrenching anecdote (sorry… no spoiler I’m afraid). An almost fleeting moment, but a tear-jerking insight into Jewish culture that conveys a wealth of personal history.

It is a show of stark contrasts, and for the most part is filled with laughter. Raunchy Jewish jokes pepper the monologues and song fragments. It seems that humour and music has sustained her. Peter, Paul and Mary gave her the catalytic thumbs up to pursue a career in the performing arts. In her inimitable style she eschews telling us about her achievements, and instead prefers to focus on the chance meetings with some of the great musical icons of the twentieth century. Her desperation to be backing singer to Joni Mitchell is hilariously woven into her deadpan delivery of her numerous dead-end jobs in New York. Moonlighting as a limo driver, she picks up Leonard Cohen and single-handedly very nearly deprives the world of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”. The seemingly chaotic and accidental collisions invariably lead to life-long allegiances in which favours are repaid and loyalty abides. We are fascinated by Filler, and transfixed to her every word. There is nostalgia without sentimentality and there is brutal honesty. But above all, hers is a great story told with greater humour.

We don’t know if she ever found her dream but, like she says, a ‘dream is the prelude to finding your own voice’. Filler has definitely found hers and it is a delight and a privilege to be one of the ones she shares it with. She never claims to compare her own journey to her forebears, but mixing her family’s dramatic backstory into her own gives her the licence and qualities of an important spokesperson for the legacy of her predecessors. We would like to hear more of her singing – her vocal talents match her acting versatility. Slipping into ‘Both Sides Now’ she sounds eerily like Joni Mitchell. She gives us a few bars of a self-penned breakup song. And, of course, we are treated to Cohen’s ‘Hallelujah’; the only full-length musical number. Sung in Yiddish up to the final verse when we are invited to join in. We feel like a group of her friends now, over whom she has held court for a little while, sharing her stories. “Cohen, Bernstein, Joni & Me” is an extraordinarily uplifting show. An unforgettable story. An unforgettable evening.

Tag Archives: Jonathan Evans

BEAUTIFUL LITTLE FOOL

★★

Southwark Playhouse Borough

BEAUTIFUL LITTLE FOOL

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★

“Lauren Ward stands out as Scottie with an emotional and sensitive portrayal”