Gentlemen Prefer Blondes – Union Theatre

Picture: Roy Tan

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes continues at the Union Theatre, London until 26 October 2019.

Star rating: four stars ★ ★ ★ ★ ✩

There’s not a lot that a director can do with material as hoary as this, but Sasha Regan does the right thing by breathing youthful vitality into an unashamedly old-fashioned show. Crucially, she also gives her twinkle-toed cast the space to indulge choreographer Zak Nemorin with his spectacular, showstopping routines.

Most of us will know Gentlemen Prefer Blondes from Howard Hawks’ 1953 movie musical starring Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell, but the story was originally published as a jazz-era novel in 1925 by the screenwriter, playwright and author Anita Loos (1889–1981).

Loos – one of those powerhouses of the early Hollywood system, working at a time when women had surprisingly (for the time) influential roles in the movie industry – was renowned for her wit and verve, and famous for her unique slant on feminism. “They keep getting up on soapboxes and proclaiming that women are brighter than men,” she was once quoted. “That’s true, but it should be kept very quiet or it ruins the whole racket.”

Her best-known work, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, was adapted for the stage in 1949 by Loos and the director/playwright Joseph Fields, and featured songs written by Jule Styne and Leo Robin. The movie that followed in 1953 featured additional numbers by Hoagy Carmichael, and is best remembered for providing the perfect star vehicle for Russell and Monroe; the latter’s rendition of ‘Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend’ has become one of cinema’s iconic moments.

Fast forward 66 years, and the original musical hasn’t really made much of an impact on the stage, at least not on Broadway or in the West End. Summer stock, yes, giving the likes of Jayne Mansfield, Mamie Van Doren and Morgan Fairchild a crack at the tiara over the years, so I’m told. But bar a spell in London starring Dora Bryan in 1962, and a paltry eight-performance transfer to Broadway of a regional production in 1994, it’s rarely been touched.

And you can see why, perhaps, in that it’s dated considerably – it was fairly hokum in the 1950s, I’m sure – and, well, just not challenging or ‘cool’. But that’s not to say it should never be shown the light of day. If you’re looking to sit back and sip on an effervescent coupe of something bubbly and light, then this is the perfect theatrical cocktail.

There’s not much attention lavished on Justin Williams’ sparse set for Gentlemen Prefer Blondes at the Union, and the reason becomes clear once the show kicks off. Or rather once the 18-strong cast kicks off. Given that the story is cliched and the songs rather frivolous, it’s vital that show finds life in its choreography, and wow, it certainly does.

And that’s not to say that the cast can’t carry a tune – they certainly can, and with gusto, in the non-mic’d Union – but this is a show that is all about the dancing. Nemorin, an experienced dance captain who’s lent his talents to the likes of High Society at the Old Vic, Sweet Charity at the Menier and Chicago at the Adelphi, makes his Union debut in the role of choreographer and does an outstanding job, at least as far as your non-dancing reviewer can attest.

Regan has amassed a mostly young cast of triple-threats that rise to the challenge – literally – and fill every inch of the Union with Nemorin’s steps. Sitting in the front row, I feared my oft-steamed-up spectacles would be kicked off my face, there was so much going on!

The leading ladies are Abigayle Honeywill as Lorelei Lee and Eleanor Lakin as Dorothy Shaw. The coquettish Honeywill, who faces the challenge of tackling such an iconic figure as Monroe, does well to avoid a breathy imitation and creates her own platinum-blonde bombshell Lorelei, while Lakin captures well the haughty yet naughty nature of Dorothy.

Buzzing around the ladies are Aaron Bannister-Davies as Lorelei’s sugar daddy and heir to a button fortune Gus Esmond Jr; George Lennan as his love and business rival, zipper entrepreneur Josephus Gage; Freddie King as Dorothy’s paramour Henry Spofford; and Tom Murphy as the lecherous Sir Frances Beekman, who can’t keep his hands off the ladies.

Rolling their eyes at the ridiculousness of the men are Virge Gilchrist as Henry’s alcoholic mother Ella, Maria Mosquera as Sir Henry’s wife Lady Phyllis and, best of all, Ashlee Young as showgirl Gloria Stark, whose ‘Mamie is Mimi’ at the top of Act II, outstandingly choreographed with a bolt of green satin, is the highlight of the show.

It’s Lady Phyllis who provides a plot point in the shape of a diamond tiara that goes missing but to be honest, it doesn’t matter. As this high society sail off to France, there are some shenanigans involving Olympic athletes, the French police, folies chorines and Lorelei’s back story back home in Little Rock (surely a diamond pun here?), but it doesn’t matter if you lose track – they’ll all be dancing again soon enough.

Rounding off the cast are Esme Bacalla-Hayes, Florence Beaumont, Arran Bell, Jo Bird, Patrick Cook, Jasmine Davis, Liam Dean, Stephen Loriot and Lewis Rimmer, and a better ensemble you couldn’t ask for. The Gaîté Parisienne of Act II is where this lot really come to life (following a nice post-interval round-up of the audience from the foyer bar) and the scenes in the French nightclub are sensational.

Musical director and Union regular Henry Brennan does, as always, an amazing job at the piano, assisted this time only by (an uncredited) drummer. With no amplification, the two-man band keep things light and frothy, and the sound balance is good.

Kudos too to lighting designer Hector Murray for creating such striking tableaus from backlighting and strong single beams. With such a basic set, the lighting does a lot of the heavy lifting and lends the musical numbers a cinematic beauty.

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes is reassuringly old-school, and if you’re going to do it, do it like this. Regan has served up an effervescent champagne cocktail without the bitters… or perhaps more accurately, a pretty French meringue: no real substance but beautiful to look at, deliciously sweet and lighter than air.

Craig Glenday