★★★★

“The simple sincerity is heartwarming”

When asked to pick out his favourite exhibit at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art, Warren (played by the suitably kooky but charismatic Aidan Cutler) selects a very ordinary still life. ‘It’s a little bit boring’ counters Dora Gee’s spiky Deb. But, as Warren points out, she is missing the point. We don’t need the bigger picture; the colours of ‘an ordinary day’ (as the song lyrics proclaim) are beautiful. A touch platitudinous, but it is the central message of Adam Gwon’s sung-through musical “Ordinary Days”. On the surface, simplicity is the keynote, but the compositions have an underlying complexity that the talented cast of four deliver with a deceptive ease and panache.

Set in New York, the musical follows four characters – Warren, Deb, Jason and Claire – as they weave in and out of each other’s lives through a series of twenty-one finely constructed songs. Each number is a stand-alone vignette telling its own story, but also an essential brush stroke of the bigger picture on display. It is a neat, introspective device, although a little bit hampered by its pithy predictability. But it is nice to be reminded that everybody is interesting in their own way and even the smallest of actions can have a (often unseen) positive effect.

Warren is a wannabe artist, barely scratching a living distributing leaflets for his employer, a graffiti artist currently in prison. On his rounds he picks up discarded minutiae and memorabilia – a photograph here, a valentine card there – and one day he stumbles on a graduation thesis accidentally dropped by Deb. Discovering a contact email in the notes, Warren gets in touch to suggest meeting at the Met to return them. He senses adventure – she is suspicious of this whacky character. But, yes, they do warm to each other and an unlikely alliance develops. Meanwhile, Jason is moving into his girlfriend’s apartment. Claire feels her space is being invaded. The couple tend to bicker a lot – over wine and taxis mainly – the core of a stand-out number, ‘Fine’, which has a Sondheim-like quality and energy to it. Melisa Camba, as Claire, shrouds her bristly nature in humour, stunning us with her smooth vocals, while James Edge renders his awkward devotion instantly relatable. There is a hidden darkness to their story, revealed later but covertly hinted at in the simple symbolism of a favourite, old sweater that Claire refuses to throw out.

The two couples never meet, but their fates are unwittingly sealed by the others’ actions. The overlap is mirrored by director Karl Steele’s stripped back staging with the two pairs in constant close orbit but never quite colliding. The only set is a series of crates, moved around to convey the apartments, the museum, a taxi ride or a skyscraper’s rooftop terrace. The fine voices of the four performers give clarity to the melodic narrative, sometimes a wordy scattergun onslaught, at others a tender ballad. The gifted Nick Allen, on keys, provides a varied piano accompaniment that does occasionally betray the show’s limitations. Minimalism is taken to the extreme, but the cast use it to maximum effect. A beautifully sung fairy-tale, it ultimately grabs our hearts. Yes, it is sweet and gooey yet delivered in manageable doses that don’t clog the arteries. Some people might prefer more bite, but this isn’t what “Ordinary Days” is about. It is four people looking for themselves. For their own story. It is not remarkable, but it is special in its own way. If that is all you take away from it, it has done its job. But most people, I think, will see more than that. The simple sincerity is heartwarming; sometimes funny, other times moving, and always a joy to watch and listen to. “Ordinary Days” is extraordinary in its own quirky way.

THE INSEPERABLES

Finborough Theatre

★★★

“there is a lightness to this interpretation, and a guarded feel that at times shields its essence”

Rather than her novels, Simone de Beauvoir’s most enduring contribution to literature are her memoirs. It is no surprise, therefore, that the novelist, philosopher and feminist activist’s works of fiction also contain strong elements of autobiography. Particularly her early novella, “The Inseparables”, which describes her relationship with her classmate – Elizabeth Lacoin. Also known as ‘Zaza’, she crops up in other novels in disguised form, so it is evident that she had a lasting impact on de Beauvoir’s life. “The Inseparables” was never published during her lifetime. Jean Paul Sartre disapproved of it, and it was deemed ‘too intimate’ at the time. There has been much conjecture since as to whether they were ‘just friends’. There is no evidence of a physical relationship, but it is hard to deny that there was an attraction and erotic tension between the two of them.

Grace Joy Howarth’s stage adaptation is a faithful recreation of the adolescent relationship, although it does little to suggest why it was considered too provocative for publication in the nineteen-fifties. Set during, and just after, the first world war in France, it kicks off with the first encounter between schoolgirl Sylvie Lapage and new pupil, Andrée Gaillard. Sylvie had previously prayed for an end to the war, but the answer arrives in the form of this beguiling new classmate. Lara Manela captures Andrée’s playful tone, and Ayesha Ostler, as Sylvie is suitably captivated. Both portray the wide-eyed wonder of nine-year-olds without seeming childish. The subtle mannerisms illustrate the precociousness, but neither is afraid to wallow in youthful exuberance.

Sylvie (the fictional de Beauvoir) is bored and intellectually lonely, so meeting this clever, irreverent girl changes her life. Andrée is physically confident and has a talent for literature and music. It is easy to see why Sylvie would be attracted, and likewise Andrée’s fascination with Sylvie’s vulnerability that Ostler conveys so convincingly. However, beyond this, the chemistry is somewhat lacking, barely penetrating the intellectual veneer. Sylvie talks as much to the audience as to Andrée, which is a neat device that director Anastasia Bunce uses to good effect, but the writing leaves little room for the underlying eroticism and tension. The scenes are short and sharp, sometimes leaving the two, multi-rolling supporting cast – Caroline Trowbridge and Alexandre Costet-Barmada – breathless from their rebounding entrances and exits.

The second act finds the girls on the cusp of adulthood, Andrée now betrothed to Pascal Blondel (a slightly restrained Costet-Barmada). The tables have turned, and Sylvie is supposed to be the more subversive influence. The play never really gets to grips with the rebelliousness, and we are distanced further from the knowledge that these characters are representations of historically significant individuals. We are steered towards some poignancy in the final scenes, but the sense of inseparableness is never fully realised by Ostler and Manela. When Sylvie declares of Andrée that “life without her would be death”, the words aren’t quite supported by the emotion.

Abraham Walking-Lea’s lighting evokes the setting, reinforced by Jessica Brauner’s more literal video backdrops. Metaphorical flourishes are thrown in by Bunce, sometimes illuminating (the symbolic significance of Andrée’s violin); at other times confusing (the scattering of roses to depict an act of self-harm). But overall, there is a lightness to this interpretation, and a guarded feel that at times shields its essence. With its engaging central performances, it glides safely through the pivotal episodes of the novel. The story calls for a less gentle ride though. With more passion. The original question of whether they were ‘just friends’ is left unaddressed and long forgotten. But we do get a good feel of the camaraderie, and mutual regard, even if we are not quite convinced that they are inseparable.

ORDINARY DAYS

Upstairs at the Gatehouse

★★★★

“The simple sincerity is heartwarming”

ORDINARY DAYS

Upstairs at the Gatehouse

Reviewed on 23rd April 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Perro Loco

Previously reviewed at this venue:

ORDINARY DAYS

ORDINARY DAYS

ORDINARY DAYS

THE INSEPERABLES

Finborough Theatre

★★★

“there is a lightness to this interpretation, and a guarded feel that at times shields its essence”