Gatsby – A Musical – Cadogan Hall

Jodie Steele in Gatsby A Musical at the Cadogan Hall, London. Picture: WebGig Live

Gatsby – A Musical, streamed from Cadogan Hall, London.

Before I begin: full disclosure. I’m not a fan of F Scott Fitzgerald’s 1925 jazz-age novel. I didn’t like being forced to read it at school, and laying the blame squarely with myself – and not the almost-universally-lauded contender for the No. 1 “Great American Novel” – I tried again a couple of years ago but no, it still did nothing for me.

So, could a staged adaptation make me see the material in a new light, in the way that, say, Peter Bentley’s awful novel Jaws or Bret Easton Ellis’ tiresome American Psycho were rescued by big-screen (and, in one case, also a stage musical) adaptation?

Well, I got the chance to find out this week, thanks to a screening of a socially distanced concert performance of Gatsby – A Musical, filmed at the Cadogan Hall.

This version of Fitzgerald’s most popular novel – reworked by Linnie Reedman and with music and lyrics by Joe Evans – isn’t the first to be staged, of course. Just a year after the novel’s publication, George Cukor directed the first production on Broadway; and only recently, Alex Wright’s immersive dress-up-encouraged promenade production saw hoards of bob-haired girls and boys wearing spats gaily flapping past my living room window for a night at Gatsby’s Drugstore next door to my flat in SE1.

As for musical interpretations, I can’t be sure of many. A 1969 score for Gatsby by songwriter Lee ‘Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polkadot Bikini’ Pockriss with lyrics by Carolyn Leigh and a book by Hugh Wheeler somehow didn’t materialise on Broadway in 1970, despite having bandleader Artie Shaw attached (although it was given a brief airing as a curiosity in 2011 by UnsungMusicalsCo. Inc.); an operatic version by American composer John Harbison garnered a lukewarm response in 1999/2000; and although not a musical, Buz Luhrmann’s 2013 movie featured a soundtrack that Luhrmann himself considered one of the characters in his sparkling, hip-hop interpretation.

(And let’s say nothing of the musical version of The Great Catsby, the Korean comic and webtoon in which the principals are feline!)

So have Reedman and Evans pulled it off? Well, if not, it won’t be for want of trying. Starting life as The Great Gatsby Musical, their vision – produced by the “fairly maverick” Ruby in the Dust company, known for breathing new life into old material – has seen outings at the King’s Head in Angel (2012), Riverside Studios in Hammersmith (2013), the Arts Theatre (2015), the Union in Southwark (2016) and most recently in this concert version at the Cadogan.

While I can’t speak for the fully staged productions, the streamed version failed to whisk me to the glamorous world of 1920s Long Island, I’m disappointed to say. Having been so starved of anything theatrical, I was looking forward to seeing if the musicalisation of the story would make it roar for me but it was rather more of a purr.

Reedman reframes the story from the viewpoint of Gatsby’s infatuation, Daisy Buchanan. Or at least does eventually, after what I felt was a stuttering start. While the novel’s plot is recounted by Gatsby’s neighbour Nick Garraway, here it starts off as if the show might be a retelling of event by the bookish Owl Eyes, a minor character who starts the musical in Gatsby’s library with the novel in his hands (before effectively evaporating as a character); another minor character, the crooked gambler Meyer Wolfsheim, also looks as if he might be the one to narrate the story, but once again, no (though he’s given a much beefed-up part later in the proceedings).

The role of narrator is also very nearly Nick’s but in the end it proves to be Daisy’s tale, told in a series of flashbacks seven years after the events of the book. And in fact, this is not a bad idea, given the part she plays in how the story unfolds.

If you didn’t know the plot, though, I’d question how clear you’d find things. It takes a good while to get used to the characters and determine who’s who, and it’s only when Gatsby finally shows up do things start to be coherent and interesting. So, a little too self-conscious of its flashbacking, the book needs a little burring and polishing to tighten it up and get to the action more efficiently, because once it gets going, it drives along nicely.

Musically, though, it did nothing for me. The songs – thin and all-surface – I’d largely forgotten by the time the last notes faded away. I was hoping for a richer experience, more musically and lyrically complex than what was on offer (the repetition in ‘You Can’t Live Forever’ and ‘Leave the Dance Behind’ leave much to be desired; and I’m always wary of song titles as generic as ‘Seize the Day’, as they tend to do little to advance the plot, as exactly happens here).

I’m a fan of the music of this period, and of shows that evoke the spirit of the times, like Flaherty and Ahrens’ Ragtime and especially Michael John LaChiusa’s musically extravagant Wild Party, which is spiritually Gatsby in another medium. There’s much to be inspired by – Thoroughly Modern Millie, Chicago, Grand Hotel – but therefore also much to live up to. Gatsby simply doesn’t reach those heady heights musically.

Luckily, delivering this material is a strong cast, and especially the women. Jodie Steele as Daisy does much to rescue the weak material, and I found myself willing her back on stage whenever she wasn’t there. A powerful voice and fully realised characterisation (and consistent southern accent) makes her the star of the show. Also lighting up the Cadogan is Emma Williams as Myrtle – a joy to watch. Williams and Steele belting it out together is a powerful moment, as is Williams’ denouement duet with Joe Frost as husband George (although Myrtle singing “Try to run me down” just seconds before she’s wiped out by Gatsby’s Rolls-Royce is anything but subtle).

Ross William Wild makes for a good Gatsby in the same way that Madonna makes for a good Eva Peron – he’s suitably starry and otherworldly. His voice may be a little too poppy for the role but he’s a compelling presence when he gets the chance to appear, aided by the fact that he, unlike many others of the cast, is off book. I also enjoyed Liam Doyle’s confident and assured turn as Daisy’s husband Tom; Blake Patrick Anderson turns in a solid performance in a role thinned out by Reedman’s adaptation.

A six-piece on-stage band provides the music – Greg Arrowsmith on piano, James Newton on drums, Kaidi Akinnibi on sax, Mark Fincham on bass, Nicole Petrus Barracks on violin and Rhythm Whybrow on clarinet – and when the audio balance is right, it does a fine job.

Belle Mundis’ costumes tick all the boxes. Choreography (Penelope Simons) is sparse, bar the inevitable Charleston, ‘Everybody Do the Gatsby’.

Overall, the production values are disappointing, particularly the audio. Amplified fidgeting with music stands is distracting, and that crucial balance between band and singer is often out; the underscoring also drowns out the dialogue on a number of occasions. A static wide camera and two tripod cameras capture most of the action, although it pales in comparison to the last filmed production I caught, the Curve’s Sunset Boulevard, which set a very high bar for socially distanced theatre filming.

So, I really wanted to like this show but struggled with it. It feels like it’s still a work in progress, and I’m sure I’d’ve been much more engaged with it if it was a fully staged production. But hats off to Ruby in the Dust for persevering with it and doing their bit to keep theatre alive, and to the fantastic cast for performing to an empty auditorium… and making me feel all the more guilty for not enjoying it.

Craig Glenday