[title]
The omens were not good for this stage musical adaptation of the 2010 Christina Aguilera screen vehicle Burlesque. Foremost among them: it debuted in Manchester and Glasgow last year, but most of its creative team was summarily axed and replaced by one Todrick Hall, an erstwhile American Idol contestant who the bumpf describes as ‘one of the most high-profile and prolific storytellers in the world’.
I am slightly exaggerating here. The hugely talented British set designer Soutra Gilmour, for instance, was replaced by Nate Bertone, another American.
And Hall was already involved. But he now directs, choreographs and has written most of the songs, plus he stars in not one but two roles. Oh, and while the book is officially written by Steven Antin – who wrote and directed the film – it’s hard not to see the hand of Tod in the larky, metatheatrical script, which is not only very different in tone to the film, but also gives all the larkiest, most metatheatrical lines to Hall’s brace of characters.
Anyway, Burlesque isn’t totally inept, but it’s ultimately just bludgeoning, a clangorous three-hour pantomime on steroids that makes the original film look like a model of tastefully plotted restraint.
It feels like being trapped in a warzone
Jess Folley is Ali, a young lass from Iowa with an impressive pair of lungs, her virtuosic singing encouraged by her sassy choirmaster Miss Loretta (Hall). One day she discovers that her birth mother Tess (US cabaret star Orfeh) is still alive and living in NYC. Ali hops on a Greyhound and tracks Tess down to the ailing burlesque club she runs alongside her sassy underling Sean (Hall, again). Ali accepts the offer of a permanent stay on the coach of hunky bartender Jackson (Paul Jacob French), a man she has just met. At no point does she tell anyone she is there because she’s Tess’s daughter, but instead becomes the club’s star singing attraction with the vague intention she’ll fess up about her parentage when everyone’s in a better mood. (NB the mother-daughter storyline is simply not in the film).
It’s very silly and very loud: Folley is a sensational singer but across a three hour, 30-song night her weapons-grade vocals are so piercing and so constant it feels like being trapped in a warzone. She is also saddled with some astonishingly unflattering wigs and costumes in the second half, genuinely some of the worst I’ve ever seen on stage. And the book’s glib fourth wall breaking becomes draining, not least because it soon becomes apparent that almost nothing is allowed to happen on the stage without Hall’s Sean making a quip about it, some of which are bewildering. The tenuous topical asides about Baby Reindeer and the Coldplay jumbotron incident are agonising.
And FWIW it’s pretty odd as a show about burlesque: I’m not an expert on the form, but only one minor, male character even takes their clothes off and I’m not convinced NYC dive burlesque bars have ever been a thing. If you want to see a musical show about burlesque – Moulin Rouge! is still pretty mild, but it’s a lot more fun.
Basically if you’re a big fan of Todrick Hall, this show will be a real treat for you. Everyone else should approach with extreme caution.
Savoy Theatre, now until Sep 6. Buy tickets here.