Firstly, it should be stated that anyone familiar with the original novel or indeed Hitchcock‘s phenomenal 1940 film adaptation, will agree that there is ample material with which to conjure a musical production — in fact the story screams out for such a treatment. The novel and the film are filled with stunning imagery of both beautiful and ethereal settings, wealth, opulence, sinister overtones and unsettling quirky characters, so how did this production prove such a two-dimensional disappointment?
Undoubtedly, the high benchmark which the source material creates is a major issue, (rendering any treatment which is less than perfect, something of an artistic bastard child). Budget would certainly play a significant part given the necessity to depict affluent spectacle in the set pieces and dramatic locations. A series of dowdy flats however cunningly deployed and irrespective of projected images (a frame of blooming flowers, surging waves, skeletal trees in the moonlight and the flickering red flames of Manderley’s final demise) simply won’t cut it. The result feels like flat-packed set design done on the cheap. It’s perfectly possible that a combination of budget and perhaps the venue’s space restrictions left Nicky Shaw and Matt Powell with limited options open to them, but it would only be reasonable to give them a crack at a larger scale redesign should this short run inspire producers to stage a much grander effort more befitting of the material.
So where has the money been spent you may ask? Moving on from the visual, the writers of the music and lyrics - the successful German pairing of Sylvester Levay and Michael Kunze who have collaborated here with Christopher Hampton no less, have produced such romanticised orchestrations that they require MD Robert Scott to conduct an 18-piece orchestra in this tiny space, (which is both a staggering number and achievement, and is presumably reflective of Levay’s time as an LA film score composer). The lush orchestrations convey the romance of the French Riviera and Cornwall whilst attempting to shoe-horn every scene into a taut and crisp 2hours 15mins running time (emulating Hitchcock’s film which runs for 2hours 10mins). This proves a very tall order whilst attempting to incorporate no fewer than 39 songs — albeit with 6 reprised refrains. It’s a big ask and the end result is a production which feels rushed and positively jittery in places.
At the centre of the story, a young woman serving as travelling companion to an elderly brash American, is introduced to a sophisticated yet aloof English man Maxim de Winter in Monte Carlo. They soon fall in love and he whisks her away to his estate in Cornwall — the mystical Manderley — where the servants and especially the Head Housekeeper Mrs Danvers, treat the second Mrs de Winter with disdain, seemingly out of loyalty for Maxim’s flamboyant first wife who drowned a year earlier.
Relative newcomer Lauren Jones has a simply angelic voice in the central role with great intonation and fluidity in phrasing. Despite her diminutive stature, she is clearly destined for great things and makes the transition from timid shrew to forthright and confident lady of the house with panache. Richard Carson as Max has a less forgiving task in conveying the leading man. His character’s flaws - he is charming yet impatient and quick to temper - make him difficult to get to know and consequently slightly frigid and austere. Kara Lane as Mrs Danvers leaves no-one in any doubt that her obsession with the first Mrs de Winter is no mere matter of principled loyalty! The remaining cast members acquit themselves adequately as they flit and flee during set changes (often amidst the audience) and every one of them clearly loves the material and would relish the opportunity to hone their parts in a bigger, more substantial and befitting auditorium — the sort of place the ominous and imperious first Mrs de Winter would have deemed appropriate to her status.