In the world of musical theatre, The Last Five Years is a cult hit. Premiering in 2001, it was written and composed by Jason Robert Brown, who is notorious both for his difficult piano arrangements and for writing a song for Ariana Grande’s album Dangerous Woman. The show was adapted for film in 2014, starring screen darling Anna Kendrick and stage darling Jeremy Jordan (whose take on the Celine Dion classic ‘It’s All Coming Back to Me Now’ is required viewing).
‘JRB’, as he’s affectionately known by musical theatre students and fans, drew heavily from his real-life relationship when writing this chamber musical for two about a couple who didn’t get their happy ending, and it shows: the JRB character, Jamie, calls all the shots, and Cathy – the stand-in for his wife – spends the whole show floundering, denied of agency. Do you smell that? Why yes, it’s inbuilt misogyny.
At least there’s this: through a 2019 lens, The Last Five Years feels like a self-own. Jamie is charming and playful, sure, but he’s also an unmitigated sexist asshole to Cathy and the women around him, and now that the work is nearly 20 years old and socially dated, it’s practically a guide book for women who date straight men: the show is dotted liberally with unintentional, but very big, red flags.
The show is so popular because it’s built on a gimmick. Cathy (Elise McCann, in this production) and Jamie (Christian Charisiou) are moving different ways through time: Cathy tells her side of the story from the end of the marriage back to its beginning; Jamie bursts onstage after their first date and moves forward through time. For only a moment, they meet in the middle and sing together. It’s quite literally a show about missed connections, and so, the characters keep missing each other.
Because Jamie progresses through the story chronologically, he appears logical, practical and ambitious and indeed is given that outlook; Cathy is given emotions, disappointments, failings. It’s hard to watch her suffer so much as Jamie’s ego grows, eclipsing and shrinking Cathy’s sunny, strong will. Brown wrote Jamie to be charming, and Charisiou shines here – he’s the worst kind of guy in the best kind of way, playful and lightly manipulative and confident. Plus, Charisiou sings like a dream; he’s top-shelf leading man material.
We spend a lot of time on Cathy’s flaws, watching her auditions worsen as we go backwards through time, which leaves us not with the perception that she gets better, which of course she does, but with the idea that she didn’t have all that much talent to begin with; our brains work with what we’re left with, and we’re left with a bombed vocal audition paired with Jamie’s meteoric success as an it-boy novelist. McCann takes to this difficult role with vulnerability and openness, elevating Cathy from someone who could be pitied into someone who feels recognisably lost in love.
Director Elsie Edgerton-Till directs this small story on an almost-bare stage. Michael Scott-Mitchell has built two small revolves, one for each character, into the set, and Edgerton-Till uses them to indicate movement through time and missed moments. It’s a clever conceit but it’s over-used – a character steps into place on at least one revolve in nearly every number and instantly we know what’s coming: more slow spinning. They spend so much time turning it’s hard to connect with them emotionally, and this musical only works if we feel what Jamie and Cathy are feeling, so that’s a loss.
Still, she’s guided Charisiou and McCann to strong character work, and the costumes (by Genevieve Graham) are witty and smart – watching Jamie’s glasses and shoes change as his wealth and arrogance grows are a hoot, and McCann looks painfully delicate in florals and sweet necklines.
The musical is a difficult sing and difficult to play, and musical director Darryl Wallis holds the world of the show in his hands as the sole musician at his piano. He plays ably and the two performers are two of our best – McCann warmed hearts all over the country as Miss Honey in Matilda, and Charisiou starred in the surprise hit production of Cry-Baby at the Hayes last year – but on opening night, there was discernible strain in the playing and the vocals, reaching so hard for the desired sweet spot that we could feel the effort. These small things generally are ironed out quickly over the first few performances.
The Last Five Years is a little draining: it’s dramatic and emotionally driven, and your tolerance for Jamie characterising women as pairs of breasts may not be all that high. But for musical fans who crave seeing the cult hits, there’s plenty to love: the open, giving performances, a score dotted with a few gems, and the chance to see two great musical theatre performers up close.