[Matthew Winn]

What a difference a month makes
Six hundred and seventy two little hours...

Last night I made a second trip to see Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor® Dreamcoat, four weeks after seeing it in previews, and it was - almost - a completely different experience from last time. Perhaps the show has tightened up a bit, perhaps the company has settled down, or perhaps it's because I was in the front row instead of half way to the back, but I enjoyed it far more than last time. There are some parts I still find to be slightly on the "a bit wanky" side - the singing mechanical animals, for example, and the London Eye - but on the whole it was a positive experience and one I look forward to repeating. I even enjoyed the Megamix, though the inability of London audiences to clap in time to the simplest of rhythms annoys the hell out of me.

Having said that, there are two things that continue to disappoint me.

The first is the padding out of Pharaoh's role. Pharaoh is a minor character: his only dramatic function is to get Joseph out of jail and into a position of authority so building him up too much merely slows down the show. And the new song for Pharaoh is ridiculous. One of the unbreakable rules of musical theatre is that you can't successfully give a character-establishing song to a character who's about to walk off stage forever. Sondheim didn't manage it with The Miller's Son, and it hasn't been managed here either. A song like that should lead into something. This one doesn't.

The other is that I remain irritated that they didn't try to offer more originality in this production. In a well-directed show the director works with the cast to bring out the best in both the cast and the material. That's just not possible when half the directing is being done by a videotape of an earlier show. I don't know how many times I've seen a show attempt to recreate another director's work, but in most cases it's been a disaster and not a single one has been an artistic success. Joseph has done nothing to alter that record. Sorry, fans of the 1991 production, but it's been sixteen years. It's time to move on.


Third-placer Lewis Bradley was in the audience last night, or so I'm told. Somehow he managed to escape detection until the end of the interval, but at that point somebody's celeb-dar kicked in and before too long half the audience were staring and pointing. Some were leaving their seats to get autographs even after the children had started assembling on stage, which seems exceptionally discourteous.

And on another subject entirely: To all those who say the name of The Drowsy Chaparone contributed to its short run, I'd counter by saying that if any show should suffer consequences from a poor title Joseph a/t AT®D should. Given that Joseph has been quite popular from its first appearance I don't think the title is that much of an issue.

[armadillo]

The Miller's Son is a fantastic character song and works superbly within the show (plus, we do find out who Petra matches up with at the end of the show).

[Matthew Winn]

The Miller's Son is a fantastic character song and works superbly within the show (plus, we do find out who Petra matches up with at the end of the show).

It's a fantastic song, yes, but it does not work superbly within the show. It leads nowhere. By that stage we've seen loads of Petra, then she gets the stage to herself and defines her character, and from then on she has almost no effect. The number gives us information but does nothing with that information. Sondheim cites it as one of his favourites of all his songs, and I know I'm not alone in my suspicions that it's in ALNM because it's far too good a song to cut even though there's no place in the show where it would work as effectively as it ought. It's not as bad as it would have been had we never seen Petra before, but it's still weak positioning of a strong number. Unfortunately there's not really anywhere better it could go.

It's probably not the best of examples to use as the song does explain a little about Petra's previous actions, even if it is a bit late in the day to do so. It was the only thing I could think of at the time of writing. (I have the headache from hell at the moment and I'm having trouble even seeing the screen, so it's not worth the effort of picking apart the analogy too carefully. I freely admit it's not going to withstand detailed analysis.)

But none of that has any bearing on the fact that the new number in Joseph sets up Pharaoh's character and then has him walk straight off stage and out of the story. It's a fairly basic principle of drama that when you set up information you make use of it later. Offering it up and then forgetting it ever happened is bad writing by any standard (unless for deliberate effect, which doesn't apply in this case). ALNM without The Miller's Son would be less of a show, but Joseph without King of my Heart would be stronger.

[Daniel]

Wise words Matthew. If they wanted to write another song for the show ( not a bad idea in itself ) surely it would have made sense to write one for Joseph?

[Boob]

To be honest, don't you think he has enough to test his cords and larynx throughout the course of the show, 8 times a week?

[Stuart]

Judging by his tired voice last Tuesday..................yes

[M George]

To be honest, don't you think he has enough to test his cords and larynx throughout the course of the show, 8 times a week?

I don't. Joseph as a very short show and Joseph doesn's sing a phenomenal amount over the course of the evening, The Narrator sings a lot more.

[Distant_Cousin]

Matthew, the Mistress in Evita breaks this cardinal rule you speak of - do you not think it works OK even in Evita? I've never had a problem with it, and neither has anyone else that I've heard.

[Tessa]

[Matthew Winn]

Matthew, the Mistress in Evita breaks this cardinal rule you speak of - do you not think it works OK even in Evita? I've never had a problem with it, and neither has anyone else that I've heard.

Another Suitcase In Another Hall is something of a special case, in that it tells a character's entire story in a single song. I don't have a problem with that, and I'd go so far as to say that it represents good writing when a composer and lyricist can create a character and take her through her entire dramatic journey in just a few minutes. It's also a beautiful song. Lloyd Webber and Rice pull off the same trick in Joseph with Potiphar's number. The critical thing is that in both cases the number and the situation it establishes are resolved: The Mistress walks off out of Perón's life and Potiphar has Joseph thrown in jail. Their respective stories are complete.

Not all songs have to have a dramatic purpose, the obvious example being Brush Up Your Shakespeare, which exists purely to cover a scene and costume change. If there were more of Kiss Me, Kate left to happen there might have been an act break there, but because there's so little of the show left we get a song instead. But it's a song that's obviously a filler. It does nothing with either character or situation. It's an entity unto itself, drawing nothing from what has gone before and leaving nothing undone after it's over.

The issue I have with King Of My Heart is a Chekhov's Gun one: if something is introduced into the show without immediate resolution then that resolution must come later. In Joseph this doesn't happen. By the time Pharaoh starts to sing King Of My Heart his dramatic function is complete: he's taken Joseph out of jail and placed him in a position of authority, and now Pharaoh has nothing left to do but leave the stage. But he doesn't leave the stage. He sings this slow and supposed-to-be-moving rock ballad building up the image of the loneliness of the man at the top, but there's no pay-off from it. It sets up a character for Pharaoh but never makes use of it, leaving a narrative loose end flapping around unresolved.


(Aside to Tessa: good blog.)