A show that worked, and a show that didn't

Top Hat at Chichester Festival Theatre. Photo credit: Johan Persson

In this economy, I’m more inclined than I’ve ever been to take up a bargain if it’s dangled in front of me. But it is also more than a bit concerning that Just For One Day: The Live Aid Musical has such heavily discounted seats in peak summer season, albeit for a Wednesday evening – I didn’t bother to check but the matinee might have sold well, as matinees do for certain shows for whatever reason. The problem, although it is a very, very nice ‘problem’ for this show to have, is probably the same conundrum the Live Aid concerts themselves had forty years ago – it is easy to get caught up in the euphoria of what is excellent music performed to an excellent standard, with a need for a very unsubtle reminder that the whole point is to raise funding for relief of the 1983-1985 famine in Ethiopia.

It also appears I owe the actual Bob Geldof an apology, having misquoted him on social media. There isn’t footage of him saying the actual words, “Give us your fucking money!” or “Show me the fucking money!” or any variation of that. What happened was this: BBC presenter David Hepworth was giving a list of addresses to where people could send in their donations. Geldof interrupted him, saying, “Fuck the address, let’s get the numbers!”, wanting people to telephone in pledges instead, presumably to give him – and the world at large – a more immediate indication of how much had been raised.

Just For One Day: The Live Aid Musical. Photo credit: Evan Zimmerman

Anyway, the show works, and works well – sat in the front stalls as I was, the band was loud enough that the endings of songs could be heard with one’s chest. True, there are times when the show practically abandons the storyline in favour of featuring several songs that were performed at Live Aid in quick succession. It doesn’t matter, in the end, as the production values capture a stadium atmosphere quite convincingly.

Contrast this, then, with a very different experience of a very different musical – Top Hat. It’s this year’s big summer musical at Chichester Festival Theatre, that regional powerhouse that has given us so many London transfers over the years that even attempting to list them would cause offence, because I will invariably and inadvertently have missed someone’s favourite. The audience demographic, certainly on a Saturday matinee, is older than it is in London, though the musical adaptation of the 1935 motion picture premiered in 2011. Still, it was interesting to learn afterwards that my fellow theatregoers had no qualms admitting that despite being the target audience for the show, they fell asleep rather quickly in the first half. I was denied the same comfort, on account of the two women sat immediately to my left, who jerked their legs during high tempo ensemble numbers, not at all in time to the music, or otherwise took it upon themselves to talk at full conversational volume. My death stare at them seemed to have little immediate impact but I think I managed to register my displeasure.

If Just For One Day had a flimsy plot – there was a Third World problem and some people decided to do something about it – Top Hat’s one is even weaker: there were First World Problems and next to nothing is done about them, stretching out a case of mistaken identity for far too long. Phillip Attmore as Jerry Travers has it going on – decent dance moves, an engaging stage presence and a good singing voice. So what went wrong here? It’s not, I don’t think, the actors’ fault – in both shows they were really going for it.

I don’t consider myself woke (it is NOT racist to order a ‘black coffee’ in a café!) but I couldn’t help thinking how incredibly outdated a lot of the show is in terms of comedy content. There’s all this misogyny, which Sally Ann Triplett’s Madge Hardwick takes in her stride and even utilises to her advantage, There’s stalking. There’s taking the piss out of people who come from Somewhere Else. Throw in domestic violence and we’re having a whale of a time. Not. In short, to use a stock phrase of mine in reviews, it wasn’t offensive, but it was unfunny. It was also boring. So the music and dancing was good, but it was difficult to care very much for the characters. Never mind.