Among those in the audience to see Les Miserables at Edinburgh Playhouse on Saturday was The Courier’s Grant Reid a man who does not like musicals. Would Cameron Mackintosh’s 25th anniversary production win him over?
Let’s get one thing straight musicals are not ‘my thing’.
I do, however, have a wife, and they are definitely ‘her thing,’ hence a somewhat reluctant trip to The Playhouse in Edinburgh on Saturday to see Cameron Mackintosh’s production of Les Miserables.
When I say ‘see’ I really mean ‘peer’ as we were towards the back of the balcony.
Some light relief was to be had watching patrons puff and pant their way up the perilous ascent to their lofty perches, as I had done earlier. And apart from the vertiginous environs, I also had to contend with less knee space than the most miserly of budget airlines provide.
This was not a good start.
However, when the production erupted into life, these irritations were pretty much forgotten.
This is a truly spectacular production, with cinema-style sound and, with one exception, incredibly deft scene changes, done so subtly that you were often unaware that the whole set had morphed into another one. All very clever.
The use of projected backgrounds featuring some of author Victor Hugo’s original drawings also gave a slightly surreal effect, particularly when cleverly animated to give, for example, the effect of someone running through the sewers of Paris (as you would, not a place to dawdle I would imagine).
You would expect a slick production, though, given that they’ve had 25 years to get it right.
So, as for the plot? No point in me relating it here, if you don’t know it you sure as hell will know someone who does, giving that the show has apparently been seen by 56 million people in 42 countries in 21 languages.Technical hitchThere is not one word of dialogue uttered in any language (usually), everything is tra-la laad.
However ten minutes into Part Two, just when my legs were getting comfortably numb, the house lights went up and a female scuttled onto the stage to trill brightly that there had been a technical hitch but they were on it and to stay seated.
A good percentage of the male members of the audience rose again to their feet, taking advantage to restore circulation and also to cool off…the rising heat having slowly converted the balcony into a mass sauna.
I was almost disappointed when they announced it was all systems go again.
And the singers? None who rang any bells with me apart from Gareth Gates, Pop Idol runner-up eight years ago, who was surprisingly impressive.
Every one of the cast can give it laldy on cue, though, and in key, belting out a fine mix of stirring revolutionary stuff, the obligatory angst-ridden love song, and a bit of comedy on occasions.
Oh and of course Ms Boyle’s adopted ‘I Dreamed a Dream’ featured, currently the world’s most popular song but not in my house, where my better half has commandeered our teenage son’s latest Coheed and Cambria CD to play in her car…very odd.
It pains a bit to say this, and it may condemn me to more hours of lower torso torture and slow kneecapping, but it was actually enjoyable.
I’d recommend going, but there’s little point as you’ll be hard pressed to find tickets on the evidence of a jam-packed Playhouse.
And to really put you off, parking in the adjacent Omni Centre car park cost an eye-watering and wallet-busting £18, leaving me tres miserable.
Useful links: official site and Edinburgh Playhouse.
Picture used under the Creative Commons licence courtesy of Flickr user Jamie Clelland.