X Factor musical I Can’t Sing! is lewd, rude and hilariously irreverent.So when a new musical based around the hugely popular ITV reality television show The X Factor was announced, a collective groan could be heard echoing round theatreland. However, I Can’t Sing! has done the unthinkable and pulled off an irreverent theatrical spectacular filled with visual gags and surprisingly memorable songs.
Written by television comic Harry Hill, best known for his juvenile antics on his popular ITV show Harry Hill’s TV Burp, I Can’t Sing! Takes much from Hill’s ability to parody and send up popular culture. His penchant for brash visual gags has been taken up a notch for his first foray into the world of musical theatre, with a hunchback swinging from the roof and a gigantic phallic-like flowering orchid. Yes, it’s crass and, at times, incredibly over the top, but it is this sense of surreal, naughty fun that makes the production so enjoyable.
We follow the fortunes of the story’s heroine Chenice (Cynthia Erivo), an orphaned teenage dreamer who lives in a cluttered caravan under a concrete flyover with her Rastafarian grandfather who is stuck in an iron lung. Chenice’s only friend is a wisecracking dog named Barlow (Simon Lipkin) – that is until the arrival of plumber from Rochdale named Max (Alan Morrissey). This ukulele-playing hero sweeps Chenice off her feet as they both decide to escape their dull lives by applying for The X Factor in the hope of achieving fame and fortune. However, the heartless TV talent show tries to mould the pair into something they’re not and the couple must fight to retain their individuality.
Directed with characteristically bold brush strokes by West End regular Sean Foley, the production lies somewhere between the two powerful TV satirical sketch shows Little Britain and Spitting Image. The cast has been given licence to go as big as they dare. A preening Nigel Harman takes up the challenge and struts about with god-like bravado as the talent show mogul Simon Cowell, filled with self-adoration. Leading lady Cynthia Erivo takes Chenice to unexplored heights of naivety and plucky confidence that instantly makes her utterly charming. Simon Lipkin as the foulmouthed sidekick Barlow supports Erivo, managing to operate the Avenue Q-style puppet and slide around the stage on a miniature skateboard while giving constantly knowing winks to the audience. Alan Morrissey gives Max an awkward adolescence that manages to induce cries of ‘awwws’ from the smitten audience.
The songs by Steve Brown, with additional lyrics by Harry Hill, offer a high-energy pastiche of nearly every musical style going, including a Las Vegas-style cabaret number, powerful love ballads and even an aggressive gangsta rap sung by Quasimodo himself, complete with break-dancing monks! The musical highlight of the evening, though, has to be the song sung by Altaboyz (a parallel version of Jedward) called ‘Wish It Happens’. This techno meets Riverdance number brings all the horrors of auto-tuned, over-produced pop music and combines them into one side-splittingly funny moment, where the duo are joined on stage by singing leprechauns and floating shamrocks. It’s so vulgar it’s brilliant!
Set designer Es Devlin has conjured up on stage the sensory overload that is The X Factor. Lights blast out into the auditorium and giant, needless props fly in and out at a whim. The second half of the show sees the characters jump from different dressing rooms: for this, Devlin has opted for a complex revolve that spins each set in and out of view. This intricate piece of technical wizardry may have been the cause of the show’s late opening and preview cancelations, but it looks like it was well worth the wait.
Like the show’s music, choreographer Kate Prince has brought an eclectic mix of styles to the fore, including a stunning Busby Berkeley number played out on a sweeping staircase and a dance routine set entirely on several supermarket checkout conveyor belts. The supporting ensemble deal with each style expertly and even find time to play a myriad of supporting character roles, showing real versatility.
I Can’t Sing! doesn’t come even close to the satirical brilliance of The Book of Mormon, but it’s not trying to either. The show pokes fun at low culture and embraces it in equal measure, never patronising the audience. It is a big-budget evening of silly fun and, unlike some of the contestants, it definitely gets three yesses!
I Can’t Sing! is currently booking at the London Palladium until 25 October 2014
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