A show that’s still superbly on song
The Rise and Fall of Little Voice
Stephen Joseph Theatre, Scarborough
It’s 25 years since Jane Horrocks stunned audiences – and lit up her name in lights – as Little Voice, the quiet-as-a-mouse Northern lass-nextdoor who magically roars to life whenever she’s impersonating hallowed female vocalists. Lancashire playwright Jim Cartwright wrote the piece specially for her, her then boyfriend Sam Mendes directed it at the National, it raced into the West End, was later turned into a film, and Horrocks’s face still adorns the published text.
She remains, then, after all this time, a tough act to follow, and, while praise has been showered on various LVS over the years, no actress has matched Horrocks for knockout impact. The same applies, I’m afraid, to Serena Manteghi, assuming the role now in a none the less impressive revival by Paul Robinson. Kicking off his regime at the Stephen Joseph Theatre in Scarborough, it notably anchors the action, via accents, references and even the sound of seagulls in the town itself (where, a source of local pride, the film was shot).
That Manteghi is a near-perfect fit for this Cinderella-like heroine, whose lewd, crude, man-eating mother is almost a panto villainess, is indisputable. Less would be more, though, when it comes to signalling the delicate wallflower’s agoraphobic aversion to the company of strangers, every twitching facial muscle currently a quivering index of trepidation. And more would be more when, inspired by the vinyl records bequeathed her by her still-mourned father, LV warbles out songs that transport her from her faultily wired domestic discomfort zone.
She has to exude diffidence, sure, as she’s coaxed into the limelight by her mam’s would-be showbiz manager “boyfriend”, but it’s the difference between doing a passable Judy Garland or Shirley Bassey and winging us Over
the Rainbow or thrilling us to the molten core with Goldfinger. Still, the broad repertoire of her “voices” would amply impress the judges on any talent show, she’ll surely blossom over the run, and her closing, beautifully spotlit rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s Songbird, in which she drops the assumed accents to become her “own” woman, touches the heart exactly as it should.
I reckon it’s good for another 25 years, at least.
Until Aug 19. Tickets: 01723 370541; sjt. uk.com