THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON at the Ambassadors Theatre

★★★★★

“every member of the ensemble cast is a vital cog in the intricate mechanism of this fine piece of theatre”

Five years ago, “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” unveiled itself to little fanfare at Southwark Playhouse. Jethro Compton’s and Darren Clarke’s adaptation of F Scott Fitzgerald’s fantastical short story used just five actor-musicians to tell the tale in a chamber music fashion. I described it at the time as ‘a sensational piece of musical theatre’. I was not alone. Acoustic and intimate, the only way for it to go was to grow, until last year it replayed at the larger ‘Elephant’ at Southwark, with more cast, more instruments and much more of a marketing push behind it. I felt it had lost something of the original. Nevertheless, it’s course was pre-determined. As per one of its narrative leitmotifs: ‘Time and tide waits for no man’. It’s West End premiere, bigger and better still, has remarkably, and unquestionably, recaptured the sheer magic and emotional charm of its humble beginnings.

Fitzgerald was inspired to write the story, in 1922, by Mark Twain who lamented the fact that the best part of life came at the beginning and the worst part at the end. Fitzgerald, in an attempt to turn this idea on its head, discovered that youth and old age are mirrors of each other. A witty and insightful satire it tells the story of Benjamin Button who is born an old man and mysteriously begins ageing backwards. At the beginning of his life, he is withered and worn, but as he continues to grow younger, he embraces life, falls in love, goes to war, has children, and eventually, as his mind begins to devolve again, returns to the care of his nurses, and eventual oblivion. It is a fantasy. A dark fairy tale but one that is slightly clinical and lacking in pathos. The genius of this musical adaptation partly lies in how much it is transformed into a heart-wrenching love story. Liberties are taken with the original text, but entirely necessary ones.

We are no longer in the US seaport of Baltimore, but on the Cornish coast. Compton – not content with writing, directing and co-writing the lyrics, is also the creative force behind the set. Evocatively shambolic, it recreates the small fishing village. You can almost smell the salty sea air. With the crash of a wave, we are introduced to the characters that inhabit this backwater with a poetic lyricism that echoes Dylan Thomas; and a musical accompaniment that pulls us right into the heart of the story, stronger than the moon at the highest tide. The folksy, Celtic tunes have a musical theatre veneer but are delivered with sublime energy and virtuosity by the twelve strong cast, layered with Chi-San Howard’s expert and clockwork choreography. Swapping instruments like relay batons, they keep the score alive, guiding it through the haunting ballads right up to the soaring anthems. The thirteenth cast member, who never picks up an instrument (until the encore) stands apart. The oddball. The title character – Benjamin Button. John Dagleish gives us a hangdog and tender portrayal that is also defiant and powerful. We are not long into the show when our hearts are already breaking. Rejected by his mother (beautifully and tragically portrayed by Philippa Hogg) there are shades of Kafka’s ‘Metamorphosis’ as Button is kept in the attic – a shameful secret. Hogg’s rendition of ‘The Kraken’s Lullaby’ leaves a lasting, tearful impression as she echoes the line ‘I pray you won’t wake from your sleep’.

Yet he continues to do so, for the next sixty-nine years. It is a miraculous backwards journey that extends beyond the curiosity of a life running in reverse. Time is a constant refrain, and woven into the fabric of time are the inextricable links, and twists of fate, that snowball into life-changing moments. He meets the important characters in his life twice. Notably ‘Little Jack’ (brilliantly played by Jack Quarton), a young fisherman whom Button befriends but later horrifies when he is young, and Jack is older. But it is Clare Foster’s Elowen who lights up the stage. The love of his life. Sassy and flirtatious in youth, heartbroken yet forgiving in love and vulnerably stoic in her tragic later years, her journey as she and Button travel in opposite directions is a masterstroke. When she sings ‘We have Time’, we can hear the crack of a thousand hearts throughout the auditorium.

Mark Aspinall’s musical direction and orchestration accentuate the dynamics, each crescendo and diminuendo highlighted by Luke Swaffield’s crisp sound design. While Zoe Spurr’s lighting guides us from night, back into day; from the moon to the sun and even into the depths of the sea. Each shade pinpointing each pivotal moment.

Just as every moment counts, every member of the ensemble cast is a vital cog in the intricate mechanism of this fine piece of theatre. The harmonies sweep us away leaving us slightly breathless. Yet the emotional punch doesn’t completely conceal the cleverness of Compton and Clarke’s interpretation. Relocating it to Cornwall is an inspired choice, as is shifting the narrative forward to take in most of the twentieth century. The shifting tides and man’s fascination with the moon play an important role, taking on a metaphorical and literal reality with the 1969 Moon landing. An event that confirms the protagonists’ belief that anything is possible. We get the sense that they don’t quite fully accept that optimism. And most of the time, neither do we. But the battered belief abides. And this show affirms it. From start to finish, it is a triumph. Or is that from finish to start?

THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON at the Ambassadors Theatre

Reviewed on 6th November 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Marc Brenner

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE ENFIELD HAUNTING | ★½ | January 2024

ROSE | ★★★★ | May 2023

MAD HOUSE | ★★★★★ | June 2022

COCK | ★★★ | March 2022

THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page

★★★★★

“an electrifying mix of tradition and tragedy, with the flashes of humour searing through it like bolts of lightning”

Towards the end of the first act of “Fiddler on the Roof”, the sun is gently sinking behind the trees of Regent’s Park and candlelight casts its quivering, magical glow across the stage. A lone fiddler plays the opening bars of the achingly beautiful wedding song, ‘Sunrise, Sunset’. When we reach the bittersweet and hypnotic strains of the chorus, it is as though the number was written for this very moment: for this one particular sunset shared by a thousand people beneath a clear, unifying sky. It is one of many instants that make Jordan Fein’s current staging of “Fiddler on the Roof” one to remember for a long time.

When Sholem Aleichem’s “Tevye’s Daughters: Collected Stories” was first published in Yiddish at the dawn of the twentieth century, he was praised for the naturalness of his characters’ speech and the accuracy of his portrayal of life in the Shtetels of Eastern Europe. His writings combined cheerfulness in the face of adversity with the tragedy of the fate of the societies and their traditions. He probably had no idea that it would one day spawn one of the most successful and highly acclaimed musicals. Revived many times over the half century since its premiere, never before has it reflected the true nature of Aleichem’s writing with such accuracy and sensitivity. The creative elements of Jordan Fein’s interpretation come together in an electrifying mix of tradition and tragedy, with the flashes of humour searing through it like bolts of lightning.

The story centres on Tevye (Adam Dannheisser), the milkman in the village of Anatevka who is trying to cling onto his Jewish traditions as the outside world encroaches upon his family’s and the villagers’ lives. Not only that, but he is also up against his rebellious and progressive daughters who question the conventions, shunning the idea of arranged marriages; choosing instead to marry for love. The highly charged yet affectionate subversiveness of his daughters, however, is nothing compared to the dark shadow of the Imperial Russian pogroms rapidly approaching.

Tom Scutt’s imaginative set looms large over the action. A wheatfield uprooted from the ground, wrenched upwards in an arc exposing the name of the village embossed deep into the earth like an indelible stamp. Times are changing but the heritage runs deep. Beneath the canopy the orchestra is visible, the ensemble cast rarely leave the stage and the leading players watch from the sidelines when not in their own scenes. The community spirit is captured before a word is spoken (or sung). Nick Lidster’s clear-cut sound lends fragility to the solo numbers alongside the power of the rousing choruses of the ensemble. Julia Cheng’s choreography conjures a series of grand tableaux, like fine art in real life animation – meticulous yet shapeshifting: the comedy of ‘The Dream’ drifting into a macabre nightmare, or the rousing joy of ‘The Wedding’ that sinks into sinister violence as the Tsar’s officers intrude.

Adam Dannheisser, as Tevye, shifts superbly between the darkness and the light. A dominant figure yet dominated by the women in his life, he brings out the inherent comedy in the script with a true glint in his eye. A standout performance, but one of many; including Lara Pulver, as his wife Golde who really pulls the strings, along with Liv Andrusier’s feisty Tzeitel and Georgia Bruce’s pocket-rocket portrayal of Hodel. These strings snap when it comes to Chava, whose desire for marriage outside the Jewish faith is a line Tevye will not cross. Hannah Bristow adds poignancy with some evocative clarinet playing, endowing her character with a significance almost as symbolic as the eponymous ‘fiddler’ (the virtuosic Raphael Papo).

The pulse of the piece is the score. Jerry Bock’s music and Sheldon Harnick’s lyrics have gained fame and familiarity over time, but the company inject fresh individuality into the songs. Full of imagery they range from intimate to anthemic, from the major to the minor, backed by the twelve-piece orchestra. The emotional impact of the music never fails to stab, and then soothe the heart, culminating in an aching finale that feels global yet is inseparable from its ethnic origins. This is musical theatre at its heartfelt best.

Tag Archives: Mark Aspinall

THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON

★★★★★

Ambassadors Theatre

THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON at the Ambassadors Theatre

★★★★★

“every member of the ensemble cast is a vital cog in the intricate mechanism of this fine piece of theatre”

THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON at the Ambassadors Theatre