No hat-trick for The Barbican. High-quality fun as it is, their third Cole Porter revival in recent years doesn’t quite hit the right notes. Rating
Good
The star of High Society? It’s a tough call, but for my money, it’s Chester, the butler, as played with exquisite timing by James Hume. A brief musical cameo early in Act One is a delightful bit of business that, with a knowing wink, perfectly sets the tone of the show. This is a ride, a romp, and a fairground attraction, performed by a cast that, largely, knows how to please a crowd.
Felicity Kendal delights as Mother Lord, nailing her punchlines with a twinkle. As does Naomi Pacquette, full of energy as Dinah, the Lord’s younger daughter. Nigel Lindsay embodies sparkly drunken-uncle energy both in his scenes and leading his toe-tapping show-stopping numbers. I say all this, but the actual star of High Society is Cole Porter. It’s, of course, fashionable to heap praise on Sondheim as the GOAT of musical theatre, but for me, Porter got there first, and with more style. Here, we get hit after hit, tune after tune, and delicious lyric after delicious lyric. You can’t blame the creatives for slipping in extra hits here and there. We get ‘Be a Clown’, ‘Let’s Misbehave’, ‘I Got You Under My Skin’ and more. Yes, they feel shoe-horned in, but what dazzling shoes.
It’s clear throughout that the story is playing second fiddle to the music. I fear the acting from the leads is too, to a degree. It’s hard to care about the three, or is it four, or maybe five central romances. Losing count is, tellingly, part of the problem. The plot lurches between farce (which goes well) and tortured protestations of love (which go… less well).
Helen George brings a welcome spikiness to Tracy Lord, the rich, restless princess everyone seems destined to fall for, but she can’t really hide that there’s not much for her to do beyond getting married. Freddie Fox, in his musical theatre debut, struggles to make a mark in a role that, let’s not forget, was made famous on screen by Old Blue Eyes himself, Frank Sinatra. He is a little too fresh-faced in comparison, and his drunk acting in the second half quickly becomes irksome. Julian Ovenden, as Bing Crosby’s character, at least has the good sense to let his wonderful tenor voice do the talking. Similarly, Carly Mercedes Dyer brings vocal class and raised-eyebrow wit that neatly cuts through the froth.
Talking of drinking and froth, alcohol is a bizarre plot point here. As is jazz and general misbehavin’. It is all a swell party, after all. But somewhere among the fun, or perhaps because of it, the show lacks the depth of Anything Goes and Kiss Me, Kate, the Barbican’s previous Cole Porter revivals. This isn’t a greatest-hits or jukebox musical, but, compared to those previous shows, it has a slight sense of one. Ultimately, High Society is a film adaptation after all.
If you’re a knowledgeable musical theatre fan, you’re likely to hum every tune on the way home. You’ll probably laugh, admire the costumes, enjoy the sets, and get swept along by some scintillating choreography. There is certainly no shortage of talent on display. What’s missing is emotional pull. For all its talk of love, this High Society lacks a little heart.
Music & Lyrics: Cole Porter
Director: Rachel Kavanaugh
Choreographer: Anthony Van Laast
Musical Supervisor & Director: Stephen Ridley
Set Designer: Tom Rogers
Costume Designer: Jon Morrell
Lighting Designer: Howard Hudson
Sound Designer: Adam Fisher
Wig, Hair & Make Up Designer: Helen Keane for Campbell Young Associates
Casting Director: Serena Hill
Music Arrangements: Gareth Valentine
Orchestrations: Larry Blank & Mark Cumberland
Book & Material: Arthur Kopit (Book), Bob Martin (Additional Book Material), and Susan Birkenhead (Additional Lyrics).
High Society plays at the Barbican until Saturday 11 July before going on a UK Tour.
