Words that usually send a shudder of anticipation down my spine, usually of a mixture of fear and exhilaration. So heading towards Barons Court with my fellow victim, Scott, I picked up my tickets for 24/Seven. A bigger shambles is unlikely to be seen in London in the London Fringe for quite a while.
Now nobody knows better than I the budget restrictions of mounting any theatre project in London but there is no excuse for, well, for want of a better word, incompetence. Firstly, we had been invited to the opening night as members of the press to review. There were about 6 people in the audience! Please, PR’s, remember if you can’t fill a Press Night, give up now! Give tickets away, if necessary but make sure there is a partisan contingent to applaud when necessary and offer support to the people on stage. The echoing silences between numbers must have been very daunting for the young cast.
That aside, there was very little reason to applaud anyway. The score was leaden, vaguely plagiarising various composers and reaching its notes loftily towards the level of opera. Whereas opera lends itself to broad themes and larger than life characters, 24/Seven was set in a café in Waterloo with work-a-day characters attempting broad themes. Profanity abounded, as it probably would with these characters, but none of it worked at all in this through-sung style. Think of the glorious turn in Jerry Springer – The Opera where Chantelle explains that all she wants to do is fucking dance. Perfectly scanned, musically inspirational and a slick mix of pathos and aspiration. There were a few unintentional laughs from the lyrics which generally ranged from the banal to the hysterical. No attempt was made at design for this show, although the programme looked good. The young cast were very serious but not the greatest – I am guessing it is that time of the year when Edinburgh takes all the seasoned performers.
The biggest surprise were the writers who I had assumed were young college grads who were so new to scene. No! They seemed a little more seasoned than that. It also occurred to me that they may never have stepped into a café in Waterloo in their lives. Let alone one that covered a Prostitution racket, served liquor and did karaoke turns. Dear Lord! Sometimes you just want to give these people a good shake and tell them to go out and see what is being performed out there!
Now nobody knows better than I the budget restrictions of mounting any theatre project in London but there is no excuse for, well, for want of a better word, incompetence. Firstly, we had been invited to the opening night as members of the press to review. There were about 6 people in the audience! Please, PR’s, remember if you can’t fill a Press Night, give up now! Give tickets away, if necessary but make sure there is a partisan contingent to applaud when necessary and offer support to the people on stage. The echoing silences between numbers must have been very daunting for the young cast.
That aside, there was very little reason to applaud anyway. The score was leaden, vaguely plagiarising various composers and reaching its notes loftily towards the level of opera. Whereas opera lends itself to broad themes and larger than life characters, 24/Seven was set in a café in Waterloo with work-a-day characters attempting broad themes. Profanity abounded, as it probably would with these characters, but none of it worked at all in this through-sung style. Think of the glorious turn in Jerry Springer – The Opera where Chantelle explains that all she wants to do is fucking dance. Perfectly scanned, musically inspirational and a slick mix of pathos and aspiration. There were a few unintentional laughs from the lyrics which generally ranged from the banal to the hysterical. No attempt was made at design for this show, although the programme looked good. The young cast were very serious but not the greatest – I am guessing it is that time of the year when Edinburgh takes all the seasoned performers.
The biggest surprise were the writers who I had assumed were young college grads who were so new to scene. No! They seemed a little more seasoned than that. It also occurred to me that they may never have stepped into a café in Waterloo in their lives. Let alone one that covered a Prostitution racket, served liquor and did karaoke turns. Dear Lord! Sometimes you just want to give these people a good shake and tell them to go out and see what is being performed out there!
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