★★

“Nick Winston’s staging is slick but lacks pace and energy”

Apparently, John Schlesinger’s 1969 American film “Midnight Cowboy” is the only X-Rated film to win the Best Picture Academy Award. Despite its bleak setting and outlook, the story of an unlikely friendship between two lost souls in New York City has been variously described as one of the greatest films of the sixties, and later deemed ‘culturally, historically and aesthetically significant’. Based on James Leo Herlihy’s novel of the same name, its success – according to the director – was largely down to its brutal exploration of loneliness. Both the film and the novel captured the quality of its time place in American cultural history.

Fast forward half a century and the ground-breaking story washes up in the hands of dramatist Bryony Lavery and songwriter Francis ‘Eg’ White who have shoehorned the bromantic fairy-tale of New York into a two-and-a-half-hour slice of musical theatre. A few years ago, we might have been more surprised, but as we have become acclimatised to outlandish choices for a musical’s subject matter, we have learnt to take this sort of thing in our stride. Claiming to be based on the novel, in reality “Midnight Cowboy – A New Musical” duplicates the film’s narrative by doing away with the central character’s back story and presenting it in disjointed flashbacks which, in this medium, get lost in the mix.

Joe Buck (Paul Jacob French) is a naïve yet damaged individual escaping his dead-end life in Texas by reinventing himself as a cowboy and heading off to New York to become a male prostitute. Success doesn’t come easy, to the point that he even pays his first client instead of the other way around. Hooking up with Rico ‘Ratso’ Rizzo (Max Bowden), he thinks his fortunes are on the rise until he discovers the rat Ratso has taken him for a ride. A mutual dependence grows, however, and after Joe moves into Ratso’s squalid squat, each individual’s isolation finds meaning and connection in a world of hustlers and ne’er-do-wells.

Nick Winston’s staging is slick but lacks pace and energy, and we never feel the full force of the unexpected chemistry between the protagonists. Despite strong performances we remain unconvinced, and neither do we feel their desperation. Similarly, Joe Buck’s encounters steer clear of gritty realism. However, whenever we are drawn in, we are suddenly denied access by a song that comes out of nowhere. Francis ‘Eg’ White has form as a songwriter, and there is no denying that there are a fair few excellent numbers, but the score is too often at odds with the text. There are exceptions. Tori Allen-Martin’s gorgeously smoky voice curls round the sultry, soul-disco chords of ‘Whatever it is You’re Doing’. We are in Serge Gainsbourg territory here, with a soft-porn gloss. Bowden’s ‘Don’t Give Up on Me Now’ has a real Tom Waits quality, reprised later by French who throws in shades of Randy Newman. Elsewhere, however, the songs tend to halt the narrative or simply cloud the intent. ‘Every Inch of this Earth is a Church’ strips away the inherent comedy of the classic scene where Joe Buck mistakes a religious fanatic for a pimp. And blow jobs and ballads have never been known to go well together.

It could be ground-breaking, and there is at times a surreal, cartoon-like quality to the show. But it cannot conceal the tameness of this interpretation. As if sensing the emotional detachment, French cranks up the passion during the closing scene, but we feel that it is unearned and inauthentic. There is poignancy in there somewhere, but like the dreams of the hapless heroes, it remains out of reach.

SCISSORHANDZ

Southwark Playhouse Elephant

★★★

“The cast are superb across the board and there is an easy camaraderie that adds to the feelgood factor”

It is a bold statement to tag your show with the subtitle ‘A Musical Reinvented’. But there is nothing faint-hearted about Bradley Bredeweg’s reinterpretation of Tim Burton’s classic and gothic fairytale. Direct from Los Angeles, it bursts onto the London stage as though heading for Wembley Arena, but instead took a wrong turn and landed up in the three-hundred-seater, Southwark venue. Edward Scissorhands, the solemn and doleful outsider, has morphed into a rock legend of their own making – if only for a few fleeting seconds before retreating behind the bank of loudspeakers to await rediscovery.

The tale of an outsider trying to ‘fit in’ is an obvious celebration of being different; yet it is hard to maintain the impact of this message when the whole ensemble are complete weirdos anyway. A delightful bunch, nonetheless. Jordan Kai Burnett’s Scissorhands is slightly pushed into the shadows as a result, eclipsed by the eccentrics that surround them. Emma Williams, as Avon Lady Peg who adopts the waif-like Scissorhands, also adopts the role of protagonist with her wonderfully kooky, mad-as-a-hatter portrayal of the American housewife. Neighbours Joyce (Tricia Adele-Turner), Esmerelda (Annabelle Terry) and Helen (Ryan O’Connor) are as maverick and flamboyant as Abby Clarke’s primary-coloured costume design; while Dionne Gipson’s striking, ethereal ‘Inventor’ holds court from on high.

We are never completely emotionally engaged, but are always sucked into the sheer energy and sense of fun with which the performers are swamping the stage. And even if the song list gratuitously breaks the continuity of the story, the numbers are delivered with a powerful virtuosity. Like many juke-box musicals, the choice is hit and miss – some forming a neat and natural segue from the dialogue, whereas others are as isolated from the plot as Scissorhands is from reality. But, boy, there are some belters in there! Annabelle Terry’s ‘Heaven is a Place on Earth’ is a standout moment, along with Tricia Adele-Turner’s ‘Bleeding Love’ and Dionne Gipson’s ‘Mad World’. Emma Williams majestically reinvents ‘Creep’ (even though we really feel the song belongs to Scissorhands), and throughout the show, the wall of sound created by musical director Arlene McNaught’s five-piece band threaten to bring the roof down.

It is quite the spectacle, but the nuances of Burton’s original are lost in the mix, just as the quirkiness is occasionally obscured by an earnestness that is shoe-horned in. Rather than reinvented, the musical is relabelled – somewhat superficially like a ‘new-and-improved’, ‘special-offer’ packaging. Overtly establishing in a throwaway line of dialogue the correct pronoun for the lead character merely scratches the surface of the essential issue, while we either want it to dig deeper, or else take it as a given (as it should be).

There is a fair amount of disarray, but we cannot mistake the sheer joyfulness of it. The cast are superb across the board and there is an easy camaraderie that adds to the feelgood factor. The audience feel part of it all, especially when the fourth wall breaks down and boundaries are overstepped. Improvised ad-libs are let loose, often as sharp as the blades of Scissorhands’ make-shift fingers.

“Scissorhandz” is a fun-loving, camp, boisterous show bursting to crash through the walls of its chosen venue. But like Scissorhands themself, is a bit of a chimera – not quite fully formed. Yet there is something special in there, and it is an extraordinary piece of musical theatre. Its message implores us to seek that ‘special something’ within ourselves. Applied to itself, this show could well be onto a winning path to completion.

MIDNIGHT COWBOY

Southwark Playhouse Elephant

★★

“Nick Winston’s staging is slick but lacks pace and energy”

MIDNIGHT COWBOY

Southwark Playhouse Elephant

Reviewed on 10th April 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Pamela Raith

Previously reviewed at this venue:

MIDNIGHT COWBOY

MIDNIGHT COWBOY

MIDNIGHT COWBOY

SCISSORHANDZ

Southwark Playhouse Elephant

★★★

“The cast are superb across the board and there is an easy camaraderie that adds to the feelgood factor”

SCISSORHANDZ

Southwark Playhouse Elephant

Reviewed on 30th January 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Danny Kaan

Previously reviewed at Southwark Playhouse venues:

SCISSORHANDZ

SCISSORHANDZ

SCISSORHANDZ