The Drowsy Chaperone

The Drowsy Chaperone
Book by Bob Martin and Don McKellar. Music and lyrics by Lisa Lambert and Greg Morrison. Squabbalogic. Director: Jay James-Moody. Musical Director: Paul Geddes. Choreographer: Monique Sallé. Scenic Design: Lauren Peters. Sound Design: Jessica James-Moody. Lighting Design: Sian James-Holland. Squabbalogic. The Hayes Theatre Co., Kings Cross (NSW). March 14 – April 6, 2014.

Musical Theatre Tragics …  This is Your Life!

From the moment the lights stay down, you’ll chuckle away, recognising that voice in the darkness in yourself.

It’s the start of a delightful ‘in’ theatrical pastiche of 1920s musical comedy, accessible to and certain to delight far wider audiences. It’s even better, though, if you’ve enjoyed your share of old Hollywood musicals.

In an affectionate Valentine to musical comedy, show queen ‘Man in Chair’ (Jay James-Moody) shares his cure for the blues, playing the (vinyl) cast recording of his favourite musical ‘The Drowsy Chaperone’, visualizing, then interacting with, a production which springs to life in his mind (and his apartment, squeezed into the bed-sit sized Hayes Theatre stage). Jay’s wonderfully comic-timed Man in Chair is a strange, wry, quirky soul – by turns acerbic, then childlike in his wonderment and love for the genre. Taking on the double challenge of directing and performing this pivotal role, he sustains directorial vision, and his performance, with panache.

Short history lesson here – 1920s musical comedies, with slim, corny formulaic scripts and pleasant but forgettable scores (think show-within-a-movie classic ‘Pretty Lady’ in 42nd Street or Gold Diggers of 1933) turned a profit for their producers quickly. The Drowsy Chaperone nails, and joyfully roasts, the main elements including the ‘dance craze’, stock characters, and much more, with a popular musical comedy theme of day - a fascination with pioneer aviators - making a joyous late appearance.

Celebrating that bygone genre, this simple, cheery low budget production is the perfect fit. There are gimmicks galore, many incorporated into the spot-on set, but they’re such delicious low-tech ideas, gorgeously in on the gag. Also always in on the gag is Monique Sallé’s cheeky, inventive choreography. Nifty household props, and a set with joyous little hidden surprises, join in playfully, but no spoilers here.

Characters might easily have walked straight out of 42nd Street or Gold Diggers, bringing their flimsy plot points with them, with obvious nods in both script and production to Ruby Keeler, Dick Powell, Ginger Rogers et al.

Hilary Cole’s wide-eyed, glamorous ingenue Janet Van De Graaf is bursting with delicious feigned naivety, and she nails her showstopper ‘Show Off’. Building on her recent performance in the title role of Carrie, now 'showing off' her comic flair, Ms Cole provides further proof that she’s a versatile musical theatre performer on the rise. As dashing Leading Man Robert Martin, Brett O’Neill channels the campy debonair charm of Dick Powell, with his blindfold roller-skating routine a highlight. Jamie Leigh Johnson delights as an archetypal ambitious gold digging dumb blonde.

Don’t look too deep for levels, but most of the characters are also introduced as period performers specialising in interchangeable stock roles, emphasised in a production number when the vinyl gets mixed up.

Michele Lansdown, playing a boozy star-past-her-best, in turn playing the drunken chaperone of the title, tippling her witty way through the prohibition era show, also lands her big irrelevant ‘drop in’ number impressively. She’s a terrific foil for Tom Sharah’s wickedly OTT, politically incorrect lothario Adolpho. Ross Chisari proves he’s a fine song and dance hoofer as the leading man’s best friend George.

I’ll put a pause on cataloguing the effective musical comedy stereotypes: the put-upon producer, the wealthy hostess, the knowing man-servant, two wickedly dim-witted gangsters masquerading as pastrychefs, because this is the sort of accomplished ensemble cast we’ve come to expect from Squabbalogic, down to the two talented ensemble members who play just about everything else.

Choreographer Monique Sallé’s larger than life cameo as Trix, the aviatrix, flies in late in the show, sorting out all the loose ends in a barnstorming finale, but just how her plane gets onto the tiny Hayes Theatre stage should be seen, not described.

Sound Designer Jessica James-Moody again ensures an excellent balance between the small jazzy behind-the-scenes band and the vocals.

Enjoy this carefree flight of fancy with Squabbalogicto an age of less sophisticated musicals, while we wait with baited breath for future choices fromSydney’s constantly exciting independent music theatre company.

Neil Litchfield

Images (from top): Jay James-Moody; Steven Kreamer, Jaimie Leig Johnson and Rick Woodhouse; Hilary Cole and Michele Lansdown; Anna Freeland, Steven Kreamer, Hilary Cole Rick Woodhouse and Emma Copperthwaite, & The Company. Photographer: MIchael Francis.

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