“the writing itself is strong, as are the performances, but it just misses the mark in its conclusion”
Having been met with great acclaim in the 2017 Edinburgh International Festival, Meet Me At Dawn, as directed by Murat Daltaban, comes to the Arcola for its London premiere.
Helen (Jessica Hardwick) and Robyn (Marianne Oldham) find themselves washed up on shore after their boat capsizes. They’re struggling to locate themselves, working out how to get help, how to go home. But as the adrenaline from their accident starts to wear off, they realise that their surroundings are a little off; that all is not as it seems or as it should be.
Attempting to tackle the inescapable trauma of grief, writer Zinnie Harris takes her inspiration from the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. It doesn’t quite come together in the same way, but you can see how her efforts have led to her writing Meet Me At Dawn.
Hardwick and Oldham seem to have a genuine affection for one another; there’s a sense of years of intimacy in their performances. The dialogue is quippy and honest, combining practical, familiar chat with surreal memories and poetic contemplation.
A shining black floor and background of changing block colours (designed by director Murat Daltaban, and Cen Yilmazer) add to the sense of unrealness. Abstract piano music and an echo on the dialogue (Oğuz Kaplangi) slip in and out of use, presumably to pinpoint certain poignant moments, but it’s a little random. It’s not that their use is inappropriate to the atmosphere, but rather they don’t appear to mark anything in particular, as the dialogue itself muddles abstraction with pragmatism throughout.
In her programme note, Harris talks about the idea of someone grief-stricken wishing for just a moment longer, and the application of that being a nightmare in reality. But she seems unable to resist a little over-sentimentality in her dealing with this idea. It’s a shame because the writing itself is strong, as are the performances, but it just misses the mark in its conclusion. Meet Me At Dawn poses some interesting questions, but its answers don’t quite satisfy.
“a spectacularly over-the-top production and a monumentally good time”
Whilst originally a Broadway show (based on the novel by Anita Loos) starring Carol Channing, it’s Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell’s killer pairing in the iconic 1953 film adaptation that’s kept this story live and kicking in the musical canon. Even if you haven’t seen it, you’re sure to be familiar with the glorious fuchsia-scarlet clash in Miss Monroe’s absurdly decadent number, ‘Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend’. Much like most of Marilyn’s back-catalogue, the play’s plot isn’t quite besides the point, but it’s third to the big showstopper numbers, and whoever has the daunting task of filling her inimitable shoes.
Lorelai (Abigayle Honeywill), a small town girl with a penchant for diamonds, has her eye set on a sugar daddy to provide her a life-time supply of the sparkling little gems. When her deep-pocketed fiancé (Aaron Bannister-Davies) catches wind of her sordid past, she feels certain that he’ll break off their engagement, so she immediately goes in search of a wealthy replacement, with the help of her friend and ‘chaperone’, Dorothy (Eleanor Lakin).
Honeywill is a perfect Marilyn type: white blonde, strikingly beautiful and a small hip wag away from charming most anyone out of their life savings. Presumably, though, she doesn’t want to be accused of merely playing Marylin rather than the character herself, so in an act of defiance she’s taken on this Lina Lamont-type nasal squeal. Whilst it proves comic at times, it’s not sustainable, particularly when singing. Honeywill has a beautiful singing voice and she can’t resist giving it her all, but she ends up sounding schizophrenic, swapping between a bold, sometimes husky tone to an insufferable screech, and back again.
The principals are all perfectly cast. Lakin’s Dorothy is brilliantly mocking and tongue-in-cheek, and Freddie King, playing Henry Spofford, finds an endearing balance between being charmingly artless and just plain charming. The chorus is brimming with triple threats, and it seems they’ve been as carefully cast as the main characters.
With the amazing Sasha Regan once again directing, the production is quite spectacular. With such a small stage, and the accompanying piano (Henry Brennan) and drums taking up a good chunk of it, it seems dangerous to have so many high-kicking, split-leaping, almost gymnastic dance numbers with a cast of eighteen. But choreographer Zak Nemorin seems determined to present the high production value that this show deserves, regardless of whether the drummer gets disturbingly close to getting kicked in the face on several occasions.
Justin Williams has cleverly pared the set right back so at least there are no tables and chairs for the chorus to break their necks on. Instead, a scarlet red carpet runs dramatically down the back wall and all the way to the front, preparing us for the big number we all know and love. Unfortunately, ‘Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend’ falls a little short when the time comes. The lighting (Hector Murray), though otherwise beautiful executed, on this occasion blacks out the red back-drop and simultaneously washes out Lorelei’s pink gown. The song itself is a little quiet and the only occasion during the entire production when I remember thinking the band could do with a couple of muted trumpets. This is the only disappointing number, and really only because the ‘53 version is so vivid.
What with the set not providing much atmosphere, the costumes (Penn O’Gara) certainly make up for it, with gorgeous silhouettes aplenty and fringe for days.
There’s an amazing amount of songs packed in (music by Jule Styne and lyrics by Leo Robin), and to ensure they’re all covered, the plot in the second half gets a little lost. But as I said, no-one’s here for a gripping twist, or an emotional think piece. We’re here for a spectacularly over-the-top production and a monumentally good time, and ‘Gentlemen Prefer Blondes’ delivers in spades.
