Sam Mendes really captured the debauchery of the dark world of Cabaret. Rufus Norris tried something new in his recent West End version but a miscast Anna Maxwell Martin as the iconic Sally Bowles drew quite a few critical brick-bats and the overall tone was not praised.
Now almost one year into the touring production, things seem even cleaner than the Shaftesbury Avenue version, so much so that the show could be sponsored by Pledge. Gone are the dishevelled hairstyles, bruised legs and smudged mascara. In their place is a production that believes it’s deep and dirty, but in reality is as dark as a white chocolate Magnum.
The cast is mixed, with I’d Do Anything‘s Samantha Barks hitting all the right notes, when required but hardly dancing at all and lacking the depth required to pull the role off. You do not believe for a second that you are watching a woman who has slept around. Barks delivers songs like “Life Is A Cabaret” with panache, but like the production itself, lacks the spit and sawdust. She needs more experience before taking on a role like this.
As The Emcee, Wayne Sleep simply trades on his off stage persona to get by and is, to be frank, too old for the part. He also cannot sing which only hinders matters. Sure, he makes some of the audience laugh and smirk, but this is more to do with the material than the man, himself.
We are whisked back to a 1930’s Berlin which seems to have pantomime Nazi villains and real day-dream style character development. There is no looming sense of fear or anguish, stopping the party animals in their tracks. Instead, everything seems to have a wikipedia feel to it. On walks a Nazi, and you can tell this by the way he walks and sneers, but you are never really frightened or shocked by anything you see, neither are the characters.
Much has been made of Norris’ additions of nudity and Holocaust references, but again these are not subtle enough to convince entirely. This is a production for lovers of the songs only, as it is a very lacklustre touring version.
Katrina Lindsay‘s minimal set design works as it acts as a prison, even during the good times. But Javier De Frutos‘ limited choreography means that the high-kicking steps you long for, are replaced by Chicago-lite style moves.
The ensemble go some way to capture the claustrophobic feel of the piece, particularly Lucy James, Alastair Poslethwaite and Rebecca Scarrott. Likewise Jenny Logan‘s Fraulein Schneider and Matt Zimmerman‘s Herr Schultz do convince and highlight how their world changes drastically. But, like Henry Luxemburg‘s Cliff Bradshaw, most of the cast look confused and indifferent.
Maybe next time, eh?