“Lipman gives an exemplary performance in control and poise”
Maureen Lipman shows herself to be a consummate storyteller in Martin Shermanβs epic turn of the millennium one-woman play. Directed by Scott Le Crass, Lipman sits almost unmoving for two and a half hours as she relates the life-story of Rose, an eighty-year-old Jewish survivor of the previous centuryβs turmoil.
Rose sits purposefully on a wooden bench, centre stage, observing shiva; for whom we do not initially know. With a minimal set (Designer David Shields), two walls meet behind where she sits. Understated light changes – red, purple, lilac (Lighting Designer Jane Lalljee) and subtle background music and sound effects β music from an accordion, train noise, flames of the burning Warsaw ghetto, the soft thud of a rifle shot (Sound Designer and Composer Julian Starr) – reflect and illustrate Roseβs recollections.
Rose chats to us, mixing the prosaic with the sensational. For Lipman, it is a great feat of concentration and stamina. For the audience too there is a lot to listen to; every word seems important.
Roseβs remarkable story takes her from a pogrom in her native Ukraine, to the Warsaw ghetto, into Germany, and onto a barely seaworthy ship heading for Palestine pursued by the British Navy. Along the way she recounts her loves and losses including that of her first husband and the shooting of her only daughter. Finally escaping a refugee train heading to βnowhereβ in Europe, Rose enters America.
Rose admits herself to being an unreliable narrator. Does her recollection of Cossacks ransacking the family home come from a real childhood memory or a scene from Fiddler on the Roof? Despite the deep subject, there is much humour in the telling. Some comments are genuinely funny, some poignant, some ironic. And when Lipman lands a joke her eyes twinkle and a wry smile shares the humour with the audience. Only once does Lipman raise her voice above the conversational and the scene is the most impactful for that.
It is no wonder that the second half of the play cannot keep up with the pace as Rose embarks on a new life in America with husband number two, who himself cannot live up to the memories of lost husband number one. Perhaps one domestic story here is a trifle long and some direction in the narrative is lost. Until, that is, members of Roseβs family become involved in hostilities on the West Bank which stir up feelings in Rose that her life has been one long conflict. And thus her need to sit shiva. And to share her story.
Maureen Lipman gives an exemplary performance in control and poise. There are no histrionics, her power lies in her natural timing, use of silence, and her ability to hold the audience to her every word and every breath. A masterclass in acting.
HOW TO SUCCEED IN BUSINESS WITHOUT REALLY TRYINGΒ at the Southwark Playhouse
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“a highly intelligent musical that lampoons modern ideas of success and ambition”
Just over sixty years ago the musical satire, βHow to Succeed in Business Without Really Tryingβ took Broadway by storm, winning eight Tony Awards and the Pulitzer Prize for best drama. Based on Shepherd Meadβs semi-autobiographical, humorous novel of the same name, it charts the rapid rise of J. Pierrepont Finch up the corporate ladder as he pursues his American Dream. It is inevitable that the office politics and gender assumptions are going to struggle to stand the test of time, but Georgie Rankcomβs exuberant and dynamic staging dismisses any reservations we might have with sheer razzmatazz and inventive risk-taking in the personnel department.
Gender blind casting is nothing new. In fact, it has become a bit of a paradox: the choices these days are nearly always far too deliberate to have been taken βblindlyβ. Discussion aside, it might not always work. But in this case, it adds an essential twist – and much needed sympathy for the principal, self-obsessed characters. Gabrielle Friedman, as the scheming and deceiving Finch, is an endearing mix of opportunism, cynicism and self-deprecation; played with a twinkle as bright as their comic asides are subtle. We canβt fail to be on their side as Finch cheats, lies and manipulates his way to the top. Already at the top is the misanthropic, misogynist company boss, J. B. Biggley. Tracie Bennett grabs the role by the horns and wrestles it into a loveable beast of burlesque parody.
Everything works wonders. And it is refreshing to see that the book and lyrics are an unashamed joke, shared by performers and audience alike. You donβt need a manual to instruct you not to take this too seriously. Abe Burrows, Jack Weinstock and Willie Gilbertβs book is charged with shocking wit and pertinent observation, while Frank Loesserβs music and lyrics elevate the piece with a captivating score and libretto. But thatβs a sure thing. The real success lies in the staging. Alexzandra Sarmientoβs choreography is as sharp as any knife used by these back-stabbing individuals.
But the acerbity is softened by vulnerability and sensitivity. Allie Daniel in particular, as Finchβs love interest, gives a stunning performance as Rosemary Pilkington, the secretary who yearns for his neglect and would just be βhappy to keep his dinner warmβ. Daniel embodies comic genius and vocal virtuosity in a powerhouse of a performance. Her comic timing is matched by Elliot Gooch, who deliciously struts with camp abandon as Biggleyβs nepotistic nephew intent on revenge. The quality of the singing cuts across the board, each voice given their moment in Loesserβs uplifting score which allows the characterisation to shine through. Grace Kanyamibwa comes into her own during the number βBrotherhood of Manβ; an uplifting mix of scat and gospel. Nobody steals the limelight as solos merge into duets, into rousing company ensembles. Bennettβs finely tuned, gravelly tones blend lushly in βLove from a Heart of Goldβ with the operatic cadences of Annie Aitken, Biggleyβs mis-appointed mistress and secretary. Verity Power, Milo McCarthy, Danny Lane, Taylor Bradshaw all stand out, and fall back in line again in what is probably one of the most generous and joyous companies on the London stage.
This is a highly intelligent musical that lampoons modern ideas of success and ambition, and not so modern ideas of a womenβs place in the workforce, and old-school mentality. It does so with affection, not for the culprits but for the victims. βA Secretary Is Not a Toyβ is simultaneously behind, and ahead, of its time in this production. The aching duet βRosemaryβ is timeless, and beautiful. And the humour of the piece is brought out in βCoffee Breakβ, βBeen a Long Dayβ and βParis Originalβ.
Finch may have used a how-to manual to reach success. Alas, in reality there is no handbook available to create a successful musical. But clearly this company doesnβt need one. The success of this show is pretty much guaranteed. Anyone can see that β without really trying.