Despite top-quality production and a stunning coup de théâtre at the beginning of the second half, Cinderella does not sustainably impress.
19 April 2022
It is always an ominous sign for theatre owners when they have to start upgrading people in the cheapest part of the house to fill out more expensive unsold areas.
Not that I was complaining about the very nice stalls seat I was shifted into for this evening’s performance of Cinderella. But you have to ask yourself – if a theatre needs to close its entire circle for a half-term performance of a child friendly show, what is the patient’s prognosis?
I hope Cinderella manages to survive until summer tourism kicks in, because even though the show somehow ends up being less than the sum of its parts, there is still a lot to enjoy.
On the positive side, Cinderella has been liberally splashed with cash. The production values are stratospheric, as you would expect from a first-class showman like Andrew Lloyd-Webber, and the Emerald Fennell book is more than competent.
The flamboyant theatrical scenery, set against a ribbed background of slatted wood that reminded me of the folds of an expensive gown, are dazzling. The costumes are elegantly designed and exquisitely made. The choreography shines with luminous energy. The singing, aside from some decidedly dodgy notes from Ivano Turco’s Prince Sebastian, is first class. And there is that extraordinary technical coup de théâtre during the second half ball-room scene that made me literally hold on to my seat.
It is also a kind and inclusive show which is funny, celebrates diversity, and sends out a positive message about being true to one’s own values. One, that despite a few dodgy double-entendres and a curious obsession with the male dancers’ pecs, is resolutely family friendly,
So, why, with this expansive list of great ingredients is it all a bit, well… meh?
Walking out of the Gillian Lynne theatre (which by the way has some of the best sightlines in the West End) an old TV series called “Never mind the quality, feel the width” popped into my mind. Not the show itself, but the idea the however great the quantity on offer, if something special is missing then you will not find a buyer. The vital thread this show lacks is the essential yarn that every successful musical needs woven into its core: decent music.
It is not that the songs are bad exactly, in fact most of them would pass muster as Eurovision entries. But David Zippel’s lyrics can be clunky (I appreciate it is tough to rhyme Cinderella with much apart from salmonella), and Lloyd-Weber’s trademark orchestral soaring and swooping cannot hide unremarkable tunes. There is one great song; the accordion duet “I know You” between Victoria Hamilton-Barritt’s gloriously OTT wicked stepmother and Rebecca Treharn as the Queen. Otherwise, it is all a bit bland and lowest common denominator.
I am glad I went to see Cinderella, because it is top-of-the-food-chain shows like this that nourish the ecosystem that allows the off-West End productions I love to thrive. I wish it the best. But Lloyd-Webber might ask himself why is it that Les Mis is still packing in audiences after 37 years? Put simply, it is because there is not a duff song in the whole of that show. For all the whiz-bangery in the world, ultimately, it’s the music, stupid.
Duration: 2 hours 40 mins. One interval.
Full Disclosure: I paid full box-office price for the ticket.
