“Daddy”: A Melodrama – Almeida Theatre

T’Shan Williams, Sharlene Whyte (background), Terique Jarrett and Rebecca Bernice Amissah in Daddy at the Almeida Theatre, London. Picture: Marc Brenner

Daddy continues at the Almeida Theatre, London until 30 April 2022.

Star rating: three stars ★ ★ ★ ✩ ✩

There is much more than a generation gap between the central pair at the heart of Jeremy O. Harris’ “Daddy”: A Melodrama. Terique Jarrett’s Franklin is a delicate young black man, an up and coming artist with very definite ideas about the balance between art and commerce: Andre (Claes Bang) is the much older art collector who accumulates items because they are expensive, and for whom Franklin sometimes seems like just another acquisition.

The first of ”Daddy”’s three acts concentrates on the power balance – or lack thereof – between the pair. Bang’s Andre drives the relationship’s development with little care for Franklin’s feelings, from continually belittling him as his “Naomi” (a reference to Naomi Campbell, who once did a few laps of the pool with which designer Matt Saunders fills the Almeida’s downstage area) or slobbering over his young partner, to taking what he wants sexually without discussion first.

The pool itself is arguably the biggest star of the piece: Jarrett makes his entrance by emerging from it, grinning impishly to the audience, and spends most of the play wearing nothing but swimming trunks, or less, as he and his friends (Ioanna Kimbook and John McCrea having a blast with some very stereotypical characters) swim and sunbathe at his sugar daddy’s expense.

Jarrett expertly brings his character’s inner feelings to the fore, revealing his state of mind with lithe, dancer’s moves as much as with his expressive face. He is complemented by a three-piece Gospel choir (T’Shan Williams, Rebecca Bernice Amissah and Keisha Atwell) who further express Franklin’s emotional state, although they are rarely given enough to do to warrant the inclusion of three such powerful musical theatre performers. Perhaps their biggest use is as backing singers for a rendition of George Michael’s ‘Father Figure’, Bang taking the lead vocal with a rendition that is flat vocally but which uses the onstage swimming pool to great effect.

As the play progresses, Franklin’s relationship with his “Daddy” Andre becomes mixed up with his complicated feelings towards the father who left when he was a baby, and the fragments of memory around their last interaction. Here, his God-fearing mother Zora (Sharlene Whyte) really comes into her own.

Initially introduced as a comic foil who speaks (and sings) in sacred fervour, Whyte excels when the comedy facade drops and she is allowed to become more serious. Under the eye of director Danya Taymor there is little middle ground between these two states, though.

And the clash of tones within Zora’s character is prevalent throughout the rest of the play, too. Part of this is deliberate, as indicated by the play’s subtitle of ‘A Melodrama’. It’s also indicated by Lee Kinney’s score, which varies from brassy bombast (the curtain goes up on Act I with the iconic three-note “dun, dun, DUUH!” sting, originally and aptly called Shock Horror (A)) to late 1070s Radiophonic Workshop-like synthesisers.

In amongst this, the nature of Franklin’s relationship to his “daddy” Andre is less interesting, and much less well developed, than the assumptions other people make about it. There are too, parallels between the couple’s differing attitudes to art and wealth and their own relationship, although those would maybe be more appreciable if the similarities weren’t directly highlighted in dialogue.

The interracial elements of Franklin and Andre’s dynamic is gauged with rather more subtlety, and the concept of the latter’s “ownership” of the young artist has resonances which, even though they may be lessened outside of the United States, still engage.

Ultimately, though, the premise of the play is scuppered by Andre’s lack of charisma (bewilderingly so, given the magnetism Bang has displayed in other roles). Like the Gospel Greek chorus, we are bored by him. And when a leading character is upstaged by a swimming pool, that’s a sign that this is a melodrama that is missing something.

Scott Matthewman