Camelot – London Palladium

Camelot at the London Palladium.

Star rating: five stars ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

This concert version of Lerner and Loewe’s Camelot from London Musical Theatre Orchestra was staged to mark the centenary of Alan Jay Lerner’s birth in October 1918, though it seems like yesterday that he was with us, having settled in London in later life, where he married the English actress Liz Robertson.

Presenting Camelot in a concert version was an inspired idea as for all the opulence of the original productions and the handsomely mounted screen version, the heart of the matter is the story of King Arthur, his wife Queen Guinevere and Lancelot du Lac with whom she falls in love.

With the spotlight falling on the orchestra spread across the stage of the Palladium theatre, with the principals lined across the footlights, this presentation gave full measure to the wonderful score by Lerner and Frederick Loewe. Indeed this was the most convincing account I’ve seen of Camelot which played to all its strengths if not quite managing to cover the intractable nature of the original source material The Once and Future King by T.H. White. This adaptation of Lerner’s book, from previous incarnations, was skilfully handled. No adaptation was required of the original orchestrations by Robert Russell Bennett and Philip J Lang. These sounded fabulous played by this orchestra who gave it their all.

The evening began as the film did with a flashback to Arthur about to fight his last battle with the strains of the chorus Guinevere adding a piquancy to the scene. The sombre atmosphere was well caught. Small cuts included “they don’t do it very often”, the King’s contentious afterthought following “never worry about what a woman is thinking” from ‘How to Handle a Woman’, a sensible move, and some verses from ‘Fie On Goodness’, which diminished the Knights’ rebellious chorus.

All three principals covered themselves in glory. David Thaxton caught Arthur’s youthful ardour to the manner born, leaping on and off a chair, doubling as a tree, from where to spy his bride to be. He exposed the King’s ill-preparedness for his regal role and husband to offer a sympathetic portrait, presenting Arthur’s predicament as the cuckcolded monarch with genuine angst. He mixed spoken patter with song in an intelligent fashion with the conductor Freddie Tapner allowing him space for the lyrics.

Savannah Stevenson’s Guenevere, wistfully flirtatious one moment, heartbreaking later on, was compelling too. Her duet with Arthur, ‘What Do The Simple Folk Do?’, was revelatory, their singing and acting conveying the tragedy about to enfold them. She invested ‘Before I Gaze At You Again’ with a depth of expression that was most moving.

The biggest cheer of the evening was accorded to Charles Rice as Lancelot for his singing of ‘If Ever I Would Leave You’, his sonorous baritone reaching every rafter of the Palladium. How nice too to hear the preceding chanson in perfect French. Much thought had clearly been given to the pacing of the dialogue as well as to the songs, for which director Shaun Kerrison must take credit.

Clive Carter made merry with the non-singing role of Merlin, relishing every line as though he might have been warming up for the Palladium panto. In the King’s absence, he was equally at home giving Mordred (Sam Swann) a right telling off. Celinde Schoenmaker was a beautiful Nimue, her invocation ‘Follow Me’, simply gorgeous.

The three Knights, led by Matthew McKenna’s authoritative Sir Dinadan, were a well-contrasted trio. Their number with Guinevere, ‘Then You May Take Me to the Fair’, was performed con brio. The jousts with the LMTO chorus, front of stage, worked brilliantly with the chorus throwing caution to the wind, each an eager spectator at the tournament.

Before the great ending, Lancelot rescues Guinevere from the stake thereafter fleeing to France where she takes refuge with an order of nuns. A huge amount of storyline is distilled into a few minutes.

As disillusion gives way to hope, Arthur knights then dispatch young Tom of Warwick (Raphael Higgins-Humes) to run behind the lines, so ensuring the story of Camelot endures. The reprise of the title song, now an elegy for ‘that one brief shining moment’, was powerfully conveyed by Thaxton and his eager messenger.

Camelot holds a special place in the affections of many a theatregoer and this admirable presentation did it justice. One would love to see it again, maybe at a BBC Prom, the arena of the Royal Albert Hall would be perfect.

Adrian Edwards