As a theatre critic my main joy in life comes from elaborately tearing things apart from a position of presumed intellectual superiority
(generally gained through a quick Wikipedia scan) – theatre theatre
shows are generally pretentious enough for me to get away with that, but
when I try it with musical theatre people call me ‘anti-fun’ or
‘missing the point’. Apparently the point is to ‘enjoy the show’ or
something. Anyway – today I was just like any other boring show-enjoying
audience member, because (pressured by a dark, black, and pendulously
looming essay deadline) I had no time to conduct my usual intensive
research. I have never read any Addams Family cartoons; have never seen any Addams Family TV and film adaptations; my only knowledge of The Addams Family comes from reading Tumblr takedowns of the Netflix show Wednesday.
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ID: The Addams Family in black standing in front of the ensemble in white.
Credit: Karoline Foss and Rebecca Zammit Pace. |
By which I mean I’m an absolute authority on the subject. What this
show is really about is that immortal topic, the American nuclear
family: the aggressively goth Addamses are pitted against the
aggressively beige Beineckes, each with their own ideas of what family
should be, and their own profoundly heterosexual crises. The answer to
all their problems, as I will write in my catastrophically impending essay,
is, in a Deleuzian sense, to escape the fundamentally Oedipal
construction of the nuclear family by becoming-woman, becoming-animal,
becoming-molecular, and generally embracing a more rhizomatic lifestyle.
If you think really hard about it, you can argue there are ways in
which this happens, but in reality all of the characters’ issues are
resolved much too quickly and unsubstantially, leaving the
getting-heterosexually-married-and-having-children status quo and its
corresponding institutions in place, just with everyone slightly less
inhibited.
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ID: Ayla Jafri and Sam Morrison dancing.
Credit: Karoline Foss and Rebecca Zammit Pace. |
I feel myself being anti-fun and missing the point.
The Addams Family,
directed by Caitie Steele, produced by Lucy Randall, vocal music
directed by Ben Stockil and with a very good band directed by Ben
Williams, is a very funny and extraordinarily lavish show; every aspect
of it is wildly ambitious. The family centres around Sam Morrison’s
Gomez Addams, equipped with a pinstripe suit, an extreme accent, and a
sword, and Ayla Jafri’s perfectly-poised, ultra-serious Morticia Addams.
Sam’s anxious prancing about and manic laughter play perfectly against
Ayla’s absolute composure and authority (and amazing voice!) as he tries
to be an
Ideal Husband (Oscar Wilde, 1894) and maintain peace in the
family. I say it centres around them, but the real show-stealer is Eddie
Williams’ lesbian icon Uncle Fester (I have to find queerness
somewhere), endlessly funny but also managing to be heartwarming in his
brilliant dance with the ballerina moon.
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ID: Sam Morrison, Jakub Chen, Ayla Jafri, and Emma Tennant with a goose plush.
Credit: Karoline Foss and Rebecca Zammit Pace |
It’s impossible not to mention the featured dancers and the vast
ensemble of ancestors dressed in white outfits from across the ages. The
costuming is all incredible, courtesy of Maya Kruger, Aisla
Jennings-Gerlings, and Ella DeBienne, but these are particularly
impressive. The ensemble fill the Byre stage in massive dance numbers
(choreographed by Cailean Robertson), or hold out branches at funny
angles, or collectively shout ‘yeah’, and are always fun to watch.
Speaking of branches, this show has the most extensive and ambitious set
and props I’ve seen in student shows here, thanks to Anneli Powell,
Iona Gibb, stage management team Alex Mackie, B Bartlett and Lily
McCarthy (replaced by the inimitable Taz Madan), and a tireless army of stagehands. More of this please! Lucy
Turner’s lighting design also pushes boundaries, with the only use of
lights at the front of the Byre stage I’ve ever unconditionally enjoyed
(and the only time I’ve wanted to see more of them), and also the only
desaturated pink colour I’ve ever liked. Her vibrant colourful washes
set the tone for the whole show but also clearly divide between places
and emotions while also making all the actors look good (and visible,
which is the important thing).
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ID: The cast, with Keenan Parker kneeling on a table.
Credit: Karoline Foss and Rebecca Zammit Pace. |
Back to the actors. Abigail Carpenter’s Grandma and Jakub Chen’s
Lurch are funny just existing in the space, but also occasionally chime
in with good jokes, and Jade Morisseau’s Pugsley is always the most
energetic and character-filled person on stage. Emma Tennant’s manic
not-very-pixie dream girl Wednesday Addams, who shoots an exquisite
goose plushie for dinner, is in love with Matias Rubio’s Lucas Beineke –
an Ohioan, which is a kind of strange fairytale creature only known to
me through books and TV. He’s a disaffected literary Holden Caulfield
type, but with an instantly endearing charm that’s reflected in his
Hello Kitty baseball jacket and interest in human dissection. His dad is
Luke Curtis’ Mal, the archetypal American asshole yearning to be a
rocker like in his youth, and his mum is Keenan Parker’s brilliantly
repressed housewife Alice, extraordinarily expressive and prone to bouts
of terrible poetry, with endless wild facial expressions and wilder
cackles.
What else? Oh! Combined with Shrek: The Musical, this makes
two-thirds of the theatre shows in the Byre this month so far having an
off-colour trans joke. It's always nice to feel represented!
It’s always baffled me how straight musicals invariably are, and how
gay people who like musicals are – so don’t let my grumbles about queer
representation dissuade you from getting tickets to watch this fun and
endlessly surprising show lovingly put together by a bunch of wonderful
queer people (and even some straight ones).
X
other erin
