Glorious!

In recent weeks we've read of "trigger warnings" at various theatres, alerting audiences to potentially disturbing scenes in what they are about to witness. If a warning is required here, it’s provided by the sub-title - "the worst singer in the world".  It's the true story of Florence Foster Jenkins, accurately described in a review of the first performances of the play as "an eccentric American woman who, despite her patent lack of ability to sing, was firmly convinced of her greatness as a soprano singer". The play follows some of her progress towards a sell-out concert at New York's Carnegie Hall in 1944 and is told mainly through the eyes of her friends, particularly those of Cosme McMoon, whose interview as the newly-recruited accompanist starts the play and whose final speech, with the lady herself silhouetted, dressed as an angel at the back of the stage, tells of her death. In between, Peter Quilter’s script provides a first-rate comedy.

It's only right to start with the lady herself.  It's a huge part which requires outstanding ability and stamina and this we saw in no small measure from Jackie Cox.  Not only did she deliver the dialogue in a way which extracted every bit of humour from her lines with the occasional double entendre but she completely mastered the difficult technique of singing out of tune, sometimes rather less sweetly  than is surely her usual tone. Eric Morecambe famously assured us that the notes he would play, whilst "not necessarily in the right order", would at least be the right ones. I am not sure that this was the case here as there were some which were unlikely to be found in the score of the piece in question, or, indeed, anywhere. Somehow, however, the character endears herself to the audience with her combination of self-belief, determination to succeed and generally living your dream ("LIfe on a cloud is more comfortable") and this is in no small measure due to the fine portrayal here.

The supporting cast were all in fine form. Jeanette Hunter gave an excellent performance as Florence's  friend, Dorothy, supportive throughout and providing much amusement with her canine companion, Ricky.   As Florence's champion and chief supporter, St. Clair Byfield, Mike Hickman also impressed, making the most of his opportunities for some moments of comedy. The two of them have to sit through a number of Florence's vocal performances and it was fascinating to watch the way in which their reactions were mirrored in their facial expressions.  No switching off whilst the star did her turn here.  Neil Foster displayed some fine acting skills as the unfortunate accompanist who has to turn something of a deaf ear to the sounds emanating from his employer, although even he is eventually converted to her cause.  His character's uncertain sexuality provides an opportunity for some comic moments.  Florence's Mexican maid, Maria, is clearly less than happy with her lot and her behaviour provides another source of amusement.  We shall probably never know whether all of    Moira Tait's words would be found in a Spanish dictionary but hers was another excellent performance.  Only towards the end did the script allow her to find something to her liking, causing another character to observe "Maria smiled!"  A small but important part is that of Mrs. Verrinder Gedge, a member of the audience at one of Florence's recitals, who, completely unimpressed by what she hears, has the audacity to interrupt the performance from the auditorium, marching to the stage in "handbags-at-dawn" style. Such was the impact made by Chris Higgins in this role that her eventual exit deservedly earned a round of applause for her very amusing cameo performance. Dougie Weake set the scene for the Carnegie Hall concert as a CBS news reporter who had obviously followed the rules imposed by Lord Reith on BBC staff by addressing even the supposed radio audience dressed in a dinner suit. The mention of an undertaker in the cast list serves as a warning that there may be a death in the play and Graham Smith, silent but solemn, contributed to what turns out to be a very funny scene at the cemetery as we find that, despite St. Clair's apparent heart attack a few moments earlier, in the words of Oliver Goldsmith, "the dog it was that died".

Sets were excellent, representing Florence's flat, a hotel which staged a recital and, finally, Carnegie Hall itself and the stage crew are to be congratulated on their work, especially as grand pianos were involved.  Unless one somehow changed its colour for its appearance at the more opulent Carnegie Hall, there must have been two of them. Costumes were excellent and perfect for the 1940s setting.  Director Martyn Hunter should be proud of the end result, which, perhaps unusually for a straight play rather than a musical, earned a standing ovation.

The whole thing brings another of those warnings.  It won't be easy to replicate the quality of this very enjoyable production which saw some excellent and memorable performances but I look forward to seeing their efforts to do so.

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