Garish, gurning theatrical spin-off
Strictly Ballroom: The Musical
Only those requiring minimal cerebral input will be enraptured by this bewilderingly vapid jukebox musical. It is so lacking in substance that it almost makes its predecessor at this theatre, Annie, look like the Ring Cycle by comparison.
Strictly Ballroom feeds off the carcass of the stylish 1992 rom-com that launched the career of Australian auteur Baz Luhrmann (and prompted an international wave of enthusiasm for ballroom dancing that gave us Strictly mania). Finding surprisingly little to chew on dramatically, it supplements the spectacle of hard-won triumph
– and love – on the dancefloor with cover versions of more than 20 pop songs, many of them sung by reputedly now-reluctant pop idol Will Young.
In a recent interview Young revealed that he might one day go off and do another job – like become a mechanic – if the inclination takes him. He plays here the specially created role of Wally Strand, an emcee-like character who haunts the bare-bones action. I’d bet that in the downtime when he’s required to watch the competitive world whirl by for the umpteenth time, his chart-topping hit Leave Right Now might just play unbidden in his head. He acquits himself admirably in singing, sweetly and sensuously, Time after Time, Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps and Teardrops among others, but like the rest of the show, he’s all dressed up with nowhere involving to go.
Where the film had novelty and cinematographic élan, the theatrical spin-off contents itself with an abundance of blindingly garish costumes and the gurning caricature of types pushy, inept and twangingly accented. Our would-be rule-breaking hero Scott finds a gauche new partner Fran to bid for championship victory; a romantic gesture reciprocated when she introduces him to her gruff Spanish father who winningly tutors him in the macho art of the paso doble.
Despite the redeeming adorability of central pair Jonny Labey and Zizi Strallen – and much superb, slick, lithe choreography from Drew Mconie and the ensemble – it feels relentlessly manufactured and cynically feelgood. Think Romeo + Juliet minus heart and soul – but with fancier footwork.