****
I
wasn’t going to review this one. I have a stinking cold, paracetamol and whisky
to the fore, and dipped my toes into it when dress rehearsal audience were
sparse. Means I did not have to sit close to anyone. Suits most folks who
surprisingly sniff at my incisive opinions. And besides, spoiler alert, I go to
bed with the director. Seems appropriate for I love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change. Sex, or the lack of it,
drives this episodic piece. More of a revue than a full blown narrative story, diverse
relationships eclipsing developing character, it strikes me as the American
musical version of our own Alan Ayckbourn’s Confusions.
He’s a national treasure, no idea if the creators of this are, but they
tell the same coruscating story. Love denied, love consummated, love
disappointed. Man and woman entwined til death in the dance that both teases
and consumes. It’s sharp, it’s sassy, and it’s very straight and narrow. As it
says, or sings, at the opening, this is man and woman and God created nothing
else. Variations on the theme of the human condition are not an option.
It
mattered not a jot. This show is pure fun. Rich in sexual politics a variety of
characters in a variety of short scenes effortlessly progress from first
tentative date to poignant waiting at the cemetery gates. And in between the
skilled sextet of actors, never a critical sniff of a weak link, paint rich
pictures of dreadful dinner dates, desperate singles, besotted new parents, and
family outings. Every American’s personal and private dream and nightmare writ
large for a smidgeon of entertainment and a dollop of recognition. Given such a
show, nineteen short scenes, you naturally cherry pick your favourites. Two of
them came early. Steve Peters (Stan)
and Emma Orr (Pat) gave us a skilled
representation of speed dating taken to absurdity in Busy,Busy,Busy, and Richard Alexander (Jason) and Jo Yirrell (Julie)
were beautifully buttoned up folk in A
Stud and a Babe. The critic in me smugly notes that I knew that, on paper,
this was a good cast and this early promise underlines it. But then I remember
that, on paper, a few Cheltenham Gold Cups are crackers. But horses run on turf
and actors thrive on good scripts and astute direction. Early hopes are often
dashed.
They
weren’t. Okay I was not a big fan of Satisfaction
Guaranteed, over aggressive Americanism, and Waiting left me a bit nonplussed. I got the point of the latter;
one partner always waiting for the other, but one of the trio desperate for a
pee seemed a joke shoe horned in for no particular purpose. Take nothing away
from the incontinent Jenna Ryder-Oliver, superb in everything she did, but this
scene did not illuminate the frailties of relationships like most of the
others. Perhaps, showing my age, I just do not like lavatory jokes. But these
are small points. So many of the quickly rolled out scenes were just
hilariously fun and brilliantly sung with never a false accent in sight. Tear Jerk, Wedding Day, and The Baby Song, all zinged for different
reasons. Jo Yirrell's (Jane) eyes enraptured
in filmic schmaltz, Emma Orr’s Oscar winning bridesmaid dress, fantastically
awful, and John O’Leary giving thanks for his sperm to an increasingly
uncomfortable Steve Peters all struck theatrical gold.
A
good night at the theatre. In spite of colds, me, and the odd technical glitch,
them. It is allowed at a dress rehearsal. I reckon all of this impressive cast
have got at least one mention in the above. Hope so, they deserve it for
consummate ensemble playing. But a couple
of bits deserve more. Emma Orr’s monologue in Rose Ritz’s Dating Video and Jenna Ryder-Oliver’s Muriel in Funerals are for Dating gave us touches
of acting of the highest class. And in a cast this good that is saying
something. Emily Wright (Piano) and Paul Costin (Violin) gave impressive accompaniment
which rarely intruded and invariably enhanced and counterpointed the drama.
Beth Thomas (Musical Director) and Frances Hall (Director) can be justifiably
proud of their latest creation at Dunstable Rep. For the record I only go to
bed with one of them. Roy Hall.
