(seen at the afternoon preview performance on 19th January 2025)
The monkey rarely makes a personal appearance on stage, West End, fringe or otherwise. So, two in two months is more than a few. Still, “Nobody Says No To Andrew,” particularly if Andrew is on roller-skates.
If the sight of the monkey (in its appropriate “Infamy, Infamy, They’ve All Got It In For Me” sweatshirt) and another audience member doing a full kick-line number with ALW isn’t your thing, well, rest assured it isn’t likely to be repeated. In passing, if you don’t wish to be involved yourself, sit in the second row - or at least at the far ends of the front one.
Moving on, Alan Jay Lerner may or may not have replied to Lloyd Webber’s question, "Why do people take an instant dislike to me?" with, "It saves time.” This is an opportunity to sit in a room full of like-minded people - actor, writer / musicians and audience alike.
Rosie and Nicola Dempsey, aka ‘Flo & Joan,’ aim at the Lord inventively creative vitriol, smoke and bubbles from behind their keyboard and percussion instruments; a man manically and accurately portrayed by George Fouracres in 75 minutes of acid hilarity.
We whizz through his childhood, pick up even more speed as Tim Rice (Tesco Finest Basmati – on top form with some good pratfalls) appears, hit even higher peaks with Cameron Mackintosh (think Udderbelly logo) and then smash at supersonic speed into a wall which the Phantom forces us to peer over - confronting the ruins beyond.
That is the show, pretty much. Some fun songs, “Sarah” a recurrent theme whether appropriate or not. A wonderful lawyer-defying “Megamix” (the show opens with an explanation of where it stands, legally – think quicksand full of landmines, basically), and the aforementioned number annexing monkey dance talent.
The lyric is pointed and witty, running the full gamut from cheeky to offensive, with the odd groaner thrown in. Between the songs, Fouracres turns in an almost unforgettable performance.
Capturing every mannerism we imbue from Andrew’s publicised persona; it is a mixture of script and improvisation. The early years, tiny piano and cardboard theatre are a hoot.
Attempts to learn how to socialise by asking a member of the audience “Paul” (later the other dance partner) this time, brings on a hugely inventive rant which could not have been scripted.
Bonnie Langford, Cameron, Tim, and of course Patti LuPone, are not just skewered but barbequed to charcoal over his flaming ego. The sulks and child-like neediness are wickedly entertaining, immodest modesty overflowing.
Seldom a moment off-stage, and rarely a second of relapse in flight – only a hair in the mouth can stop our George. If he is not on course for several fringe theatre awards (however much ALW hates the tiny space in Soho he has been forced into), the monkey would not be surprised.
Georgie Staight keeps the direction tight and light, with space to improvise. Sure, there is an argument for some even sharper barbs in the lyric to match the text. Perhaps also a slight tidy of the show’s post-Phantom sequence might make it sting a little harder.
More important, two serious errors do need correction. The 1975 flop was “Jeeves” and not “By Jeeves” – a later revised revival which did marginally better. Also, it was young ladies, not boys, who were shot into the BBC roof and left there during “Over The Rainbow.” The fact they had their shoes confiscated first is more than accurate – and slightly pervy, these #Metoo days, now we think about it.
Particularly for grown-up fans of musical theatre who grew up in Andrew’s “Golden Age,” and for anyone seeing a clever adult parody, this is unmissable. A shame there is no smaller West End theatre free for the foreseeable, as this deserves almost as long a run as anything written before 1986 by you-know-who.
5 stars.
Photo credit: Avalon. Used by kind permission of the company.