Review: Miss Nightingale (The Vaults)
Original new musicals not based on an existing source, such as a book, film or pop star's back catalogue, are unusual. The Life, receiving its belated UK premiere at Southwark, and the current Broadway smash Dear Evan Hansen are two current all-too-rare examples. To be fair, Matthew Bugg's WWII-set Miss Nightingale is best described as "new-ish" since it has been around in a number of different productions since 2011, but it proves an engaging, if uneven, addition to that elite club.
Miss Nightingale does seem to have found her spiritual home however in these musty vaults underneath Waterloo, which feels like the kind of place air raid-fleeing Londoners would have retreated to during the dark days of Hitler's aerial bombardment. To further get audiences in the mood, the dimly lit front of house areas have been filled with period posters, old furniture, photographs and bric-a-brac. It's all wonderfully atmospheric, and blends seamlessly into Carla Goodman's simple but effective cabaret club set design, which in turn is outstandingly lit by Callum Macdonald and David Phillips. The "experience" aspect of the production is a total success.
The piece itself is more problematic: many of the usual clichés of presenting a wartime tale are here but, to Bugg's credit, by depicting them within a closeted gay love story – tormented aristocrat falls for talented immigrant composer – they seldom feel as wearyingly familiar as they could do. In fact, the plot is pretty gripping, as blackmail and the possibility of a cover-up wedding to cabaret star Miss Nightingale emerge, and one genuinely begins to care about the two leading characters. It's as though a Lena Kennedy novel has come to life on stage, but with a gay slant. The storytelling in the second half feels a bit rushed which gives the show an overall feeling of still being a work-in-progress rather than a finished product.
On first listening, most of the score is serviceable rather than inspired and sometimes stops the action just when you're dying to see what's going to happen next. There is however a gorgeous trio in the second half -"This Man Of Mine" – where the two heroes and Miss N reflect ruefully on their romantic tribulations, and a blistering solo number – "Mr Follow Spot" – that veers into Kander and Ebb territory. In fact, Miss Nightingale is probably at its best when it aspires to be almost an English version of Cabaret, with its seedy backstage magic contrasting sharply with an outside world where all hell is breaking loose. I could have lived without quite so many saucy, innuendo-laden songs from the stage of the supper club the leading characters work at – there is a sausage-fixated number that'll make your hair curl – but in fairness the rest of the audience seemed to love them.
No reservations at all about the two leading men: Nicholas Coutu-Langmead makes something very fine and moving out of the conflicted Sir Frank, and Conor O'Kane is superb as Jurek, his brittle camp facade eventually giving way to untold depths of wounded feeling. They are both magnificent. Niall Kerrigan impresses as a cockney wide-boy, and vengeful ex-lover to the title character, whose blackmail attempts look set to derail the central love story.
As Maggie, the eponymous Miss Nightingale – a nurse with singing ambitions who suddenly finds herself the toast of the 1940s London cabaret scene – Tamar Broadbent feels miscast. She is hugely likeable and has a beautiful voice but there are references throughout the script to Maggie being a bit of a 'goer', yet Broadbent reads as entirely too sweet and innocent. The onstage sequences need a brassy, outrageous personality – think Sheridan Smith firing on all cylinders – and the offstage scenes require a feisty, unconventional free spirit, but unfortunately little of that comes across in this performance.
The convention of actors playing their own instruments can sometimes feel constricting, even distracting, but it works very well here, adding to the rough-round-the-edges charm of the staging. Ultimately, despite my misgivings, it's an interesting, thought-provoking piece, and worth making the trip into the bowels of Waterloo for.
Miss Nightingale runs at The Vaults until 20 May.
