REVIEW: Once, twice, three times we love you!
“Let me entertain you!” sings Baby Rose in Gypsy, giving voice to what might be called the mantra of the American musical.
Once, the new musical currently gracing the Shoctor Stage of the Citadel Theatre, demonstrates with a cunning combination of simplicity, heart and charm that a great musical doesn’t have to pound you into surrender.
Once began its life as a little heralded low-budget indie movie in 2007, even if one of its songs, Falling Slowly, won the Oscar that year. The minor hit was reimagined by a sympathetic playwright, Enda Walsh, in 2011 and to the surprise of no one who has seen it, went on to garner 11 Tony nominations – including Best Musical, Best Actor and Best Book.
The original in New York was staged as a working Dublin bar. Literally working, because before the show began, you were invited to go on stage and down a pint.
The production at the Citadel until Oct. 14 takes it to the streets. Cory Sincennes’ set is a huge, monochromatic Dublin black brick wall with a green hill in the background and a low rock fence in front. The set forces the attention to where it should be in this intimate work – on the characters – also giving lighting director Louise Guinand a canvass for some lovely effects. The production also benefits from Ann Hodges’ sensitive direction. It’s fluid and ingenious with both words and music welling-up naturally from the warm miasma created by the performers on stage.
As you walk in, a lively band of performers are engaged in a ceilidh of Celtic-Slavic tunes on an assortment of folksy instruments; fiddle, guitar, drums, accordion and mandolin. You can even join them on stage and have a beer. Soon, before you realize it, the versatile performers seamlessly morph into characters in the story. As the play progresses, when the actors finish their songs and dialogue – they retire to on-stage seats to enjoy the evening. All the songs, and there are many of them, spring from the natural rhythms of the storyline.
Guy (Lawrence Libor) and Girl (Emily Dallas) meet on the streets of Dublin. He’s a busker singing his own songs but nobody is listening and, surly – wrapped in his own pain, he abandons his guitar in the street and is about escape to New York and his ex-girlfriend. Girl is a Czech emigre who has a broken Hoover she wants fixed. She offers to accompany him at the piano and thus begins an odd bond; if he fixes her vacuum cleaner – she’ll fix his life. Life affirming and irresistible, she is also a take-control muse who arranges for him to cut a demo of his music. Their relationship blossoms.
What follows is an emotion-driven love story about commitment and taking chances, set to some ravishingly lovely music – delivered by the cast who are as able on musical instruments as they are delivering a song.
Libor skillfully navigates his character through his early self-absorbed misery to a state of considerable charm. And, my, how this boyo can play the guitar. Dallas rises above the cliched “lovable waif” image of Hollywood films by projecting a fierce determination hiding a deep sense of vulnerability. Together their off-kilter romance and exquisite singing make for a heartfelt relationship and, by the time the show gets to a reprise of Falling Slowly, we have given ourselves over to them completely.
They are backed up by a talented cast of musician-actors, all with a distinctive Celtic-Slavic bent. Julien Arnold brings his usual warmth to Guy’s philosophical Da, Stephen Guy-McGrath is a comic music store owner and Karen Lizotte plays a bank manager with a secret love of music (and not a lot of talent for it). The character, that is – not the actress. The amazing performer is funny and appealing, singing and dancing, while playing a whole orchestra of instruments. Wait ’till you catch her playing the cello while whirling about the stage.
Once, heartfelt and ultimately bittersweet, also leaves lots of room for the traditional Irish sense of humour. Overall, there is an air of authenticity and humanity.
Photos by Ian Jackson
