Now that’s how to make a splash!
Singin’ In The Rain will put pep in your step — just don’t forget to pack a mac
OUTSIDE: a disappointing, unseasonably nippy August. Inside Sadler’s Wells theatre: the forecast was bang on for a razzle-dazzle revival of Singin’ In The Rain.
Adam Cooper stars in the Gene Kelly role of silent movie matinee star Don Lockwood making an almighty splash as the man so head-over-heels in love that he is spinning his umbrella around a lamppost and walking on sunshine rather than ankle-deep in water, which he is gleefully kicking over the first few rows of the stalls.
Drenched to their skin, the folks in those seats squealed and laughed — with no complaints.
And it happens all over again in the fabulous finale, when the entire cast twizzles silver brollies, each with a brightly coloured lining, and gaily tap-dances up a storm, not just revelling in Andrew Wright’s complicated choreography, but making it look effortless.
This is one of those slick, polished productions which sends you sailing out of the theatre with a spring in your step, feeling that all is well with the world — whatever the weather.
The real triumph of Jonathan Church’s production is that he makes it so much more than its famous title song, ‘Do-de-do-doo-do-de . . .’.
In a sense, it’s one of the first jukebox musicals in which clever old writers Betty Comden and Adolph Green have expertly linked the best from Arthur Freed’s and Nacio Herb Brown’s musical back catalogue, to tell the story of the love affair between silent movie star, Don, and
wannabe classical actress, Kathy. It’s love at first sight when he spots her jumping out of a cake in her scanties. Set in Hollywood in 1927, it also charts the transition from silent movies to talkies.
Unfortunately, Don’s co-star Lina Lamont (a funny, feisty Faye Tozer from the pop band Steps) looks the part but has the voice of a cat being strangled and is so dumb she thinks the Gettysburg Address is where somebody lives.
So Kathy (a sweet, very graceful Charlotte Gooch) steps in to dub Lina’s coarse squawking (‘Dignity, my a***!’) and makes her sound as lovely as she looks. The re-dubbed video footage is
so remarkable, one cannot believe one’s ears.
Thanks to Freed and Brown’s string of musical pearls, the hits
keep coming. Fit As A Fiddle, the tongue-twisting Moses Supposes and Make ’Em Laugh are delicious excuses for vintage vaudeville capers for Don and his sidekick Cosmo Brown (the brilliantly comedic Chaplinesque Kevin Clifton from Strictly).
DoN’S romantic chat-up number, You Stepped out of A Dream, is gloriously superseded by You Were Meant For Me, in which Cooper first conjures up a Hollywood rainbow sunset and has Kathy rapturously floating in his arms.
Their Good Morning has a wholesome freshness, in sharp contrast with the steamy, dream sequence Broadway Melody, which finishes up in a basement where Harriet Samuel-Grey’s vampy temptress might challenge one more corruptible than Cooper’s super-duper decent Don.
A tiny carp: the dancing has infinitely more brio than the singing, but hey, ‘Come on with the rain, I’ve a smile on my face.’ Just pack a mac.