“impeccable vocal agility, faultlessly-measured interpretation and just enough audience engagement”
Musical theatre has long been a defining part of West End nightlife. Shows of all genres come and go – classics, new creations, film adaptations and jukebox musicals – but always with the glossy, brightly-lit image of the actors, singers and dancers and the glamorous lives they seem to live. Alexander S. Bermange’s revue ‘I Wish My Life Were Like A Musical’ is an antidote to this glittering, colourful illusion. His inventive, comic songs with their witty lyrics take us backstage through the trials and tribulations of starting out, the bitter sweetness of working on stage and the adrenalin and emotion which make it all worthwhile.
Cosily hidden on its lower floor, Brasserie Zedel offers us an intimate, cabaret-bar venue for this peep into the personal reality of these performers. We sit in the dimly-lit, carmine-coloured glow; Bermange takes his place at the piano; the singers appear and make their way round the tables, setting a satirical scene and kicking off the evening with ‘The Opening Number’, cleverly concocted from well-known opening numbers of shows.
During the songs that follow we are delighted and dazzled by four impressive voices, each distinctive but blending beautifully together. Madalena Alberto and Suzie Mathers stun us with power and sensitivity, Cedric Neal’s smooth tones take some surprising technical turns and we are charmed by Lucas Rush’s lyrical expression. With impeccable vocal agility, faultlessly-measured interpretation and just enough audience engagement, they tell of the precarious career path with ‘Audition’, ‘Guest Spot’ and ‘The Diva’s in the House’, as well as anecdotal tales such as ‘The Key Problems’, ‘The Kiss’ and ‘When a Fan Loves a Woman’. They shape scenarios and characters to describe the obsessive nature of performers with their remedies and routines, the hard work behind the scenes, awkward moments, pleasant surprises and the ultimate magical feeling.
Derek Bond’s direction of these four talented and experienced artists and Bermange’s original insight into the world of showbiz make this classy pastiche a welcome alternative to the blockbuster blowout.
“This pairing of puppetry and person totally elevates the complexity and the entertainment value of the show”
Mark Mander’s brainchild is a kitsch-clever-crass and super inventive cabaret fest; a true feast for the senses with all ingredients well-measured. Cabaret is a genre to which I seldom treat myself, and this show has set the bar sky-high.
The concept is simultaneously deeply trite and wonderfully novel: Clementine is a living doll with a tortured tinseltown backstory, who lip syncs to drawling musical numbers in various feathery garbs. Her doll-size body is puppeteered by Mander – who also plays her face, which he uses so nimbly and wittily to hilarious effect. This pairing of puppetry and person totally elevates the complexity and the entertainment value of the show, as it is so pleasing to watch Mander play expertly with his crazy creation.
Mark Esaias as Bobby Pin, Clementine’s dresser, and Ruth Calkin, whose main character is the endearing and secretly saucy puppet, Yvette the Usherette, are exceptionally skilled performers with wonderfully balanced stage chemistry. They kick off the production, swinging through Zedel’s double doors and diving straight in with some audience interaction, audience person-to-puppet. Calkin is no ventriloquist, but part of the beauty of the show is its confident tongue-in-cheek self-awareness, which adds a further layer of arch humour. Esaias and Calkin perform two numbers with other raucous, bespangled characters. These need to perhaps be paced a little more effectively, as they slowed the pace at points. But ultimately, The Clementine Show exploited the beauty of the variousness of cabaret, under the broad umbrella of delectable and original high jinks.
When she is not performing live, Clementine is hidden behind a screen. Each time it is lifted for a new song, a different bejewelled outfit is revealed (I’m sure doll-size tailoring came in handy for the budget!). Each time the screen was lowered, the audience was treated to projected films, which were exceptionally constructed and utterly hilarious. David Carpenter’s animation was coy and beautifully drawn, and the creative ingenuity of filmmakers Joe Greco, Sheila Clark and Ed Hartwell must be commended, for its slickness and silliness. The Clementine Show seamlessly made its practical logistics a part of its carefully woven fabric. It never rested on its laurels, and was so bold even as to move the audience. Esaias and Calkin’s delicate and elegant puppet rendition of Barry Manilow’s Lola, and Mander’s version of Sondheim’s Losing My Mind, explored the whole rainbow of emotion. Laughter mixed with tears is, after all, the mark of a night well spent.
The show’s fourth of July finale was every bit as glorious and trashy as I’d hoped, and the atmosphere in the bar was glowing. Detailed, classy and with more than a dash of the ridiculous, The Clementine Show makes for a feather-tickled pink night on the razz.
