(seen at the afternoon preview performance on 5th January 2025)
Actor Robert Lindsay was interviewed last year, and was quoted as saying he didn’t understand the new generation because they laughed at things which were not funny.
The monkey experienced something similar at this musical.
Not being a Celine Dion fan, and filing “Titanic The Movie” as one of the campest experiences of its life (bear in mind, it has worked in theatre for 25 years...), the first thing to note is that this proves the British are far more able than any other nation when it comes to “taking the piss”.
Marla Mindelle, Constantine Rousouli and Tye Blue have that “Gen Z” humour gene which is afraid of belly-laughter, wishes to appear cleverer than comedic intellect permits and will take no risks at all in their pursuit. The result is blunted, muted and considerably more antiquated than they think, under a wafer-thin spray coat of diluted creativity.
It steams ahead regardless (a running gag in the show) and runs out of power around 20 minutes before reaching its destination – and that isn’t an intended plot mirror.
The jokes are obvious, though thankfully regularly updated with local references. If you recognise the songs, you will enjoy the cast rendering them. They are an industrious crew.
Kristina Walz (in for absent Lauren Drew) as Celine is our guide in a dress far brighter than she is. It’s all about her, and we settle in for an extended “Forbidden Broadway” style sketch - too far stretched to remain even mildly amusing by the end.
We get the big song, she does it fine. Move on.
The rest of the team ham it up equally well. A delight to see Charlotte Wakefield back as Molly Brown, with a song to boot – and a nasty quip about when she last won an award, utterly unnecessary.
A triangle of Rose (Kat Ronney), Jack (Rob Houchen) and Cal (Jordan Luke Gage) gives each of them a chance to be funny, sing and parody a bit of the film. Each is steady and hardworking.
Nods too for Darren Bennett as Victor Garber / Luigi (his hat didn’t fit the monkey), and an under-used Layton Williams as The Seaman and Iceberg (don’t ask).
Tye Blue and Ellenore Scott do well to convey a cabaret-style setting on the Evansohn / Laubacher / Bloom panelled set which thrusts into the second row. Paige Seber’s lighting was shockingly badly aligned to upset the monkey and those around it (hopefully fixed by the time previews end), but is otherwise in keeping with the general lightness amid the drownings.
Which rather sums up this show. A British written satire would no doubt work with the existing “Carry On” humour and elevate it to historic levels. Given the huge loss of life, it needs to be far more tastelessly camp - at “The Producers” level - to truly get away with it.
Trapped somewhere between a joke and a jukebox musical, it does not quite work as either. Still, the new generation around the monkey seemed to find it very entertaining indeed, and for a “hen night” or alternative to anything heavier in the way of musical theatre or even stand-up comedy, this show has its place.
