Glorious
Glorious, Ensemble Theatre, October 12 - November 17; www.ensemble.com.au
Florence Foster Jenkins would be unbelievable as a fictional character: a rich American socialite whose great passion to sing opera was matched only by her tin ear and determination to share her voice with the world. Not surprisingly, English playwright Peter Quilter (End of the Rainbow) was fascinated by the human conundrum that was "Madame".
"How could a woman with so little talent be so full of joy?" he asks in his brief program notes for Glorious. On this question Quilter has built a frothy entertainment based on the life of the notorious "soprano".
Intentionally written in the naive style of West End staples of the 40s and 50s (the models he cites are Charley's Aunt and Arsenic and Old Lace) Quilter's Florence addresses the audience - and the world - as one big auditorium filled with fans of her art. As played by Noeline Brown in an astonishing wig and vague approximations of tunes, the heroine is a mesmerising portrait of misplaced confidence and conviction.
Brown is aided and abetted by her "boyfriend", St Clair Bayfield, an actor of equally uncertain talent (Barry Creyton); her daffy friend and confidante Dorothy (Judi Farr) and her perpetually cranky Mexican maid Maria (Cris Parker). At first an observer and unwilling accomplice but finally a devoted admirer, Cosme McMoon (Jonathan Gavin) makes a good stab at being the only sane being in the piece as the piano accompanist. All in all, Glorious is a light-hearted confection, the fourth recent stage attempt on her life, as it were, and the most commercially successful. (It ran for some time in the West End with Maureen Lipman as Florence.)
According to an interview in the Sun-Herald Noeline Brown took singing lessons with an opera singer for months in order to be able to sing as badly as she does in the show. This is no joke: it takes some skill to miss notes, tempi and whole phrases as merrily as did Madame Florence, although she was unaware of any shortcomings and put down criticism to "professional jealousy".
If you're dubious about whether Florence was as awful as the play and history relates, get hold of the Naxos recording Murder on the High Cs. It gathers all of her mercifully slim oeuvre onto one disc (she originally recorded several 78 rpm records) and is one of the great compilations of inadvertent musical tragedy of all time. Interestingly, if you go to amazon.com in search of the CD (four listed today in new and used from $US8.03) their marketing people list Florence with the landmark recordings of Jonathan and Darlene Edwards. Conscientious readers will know of my soft spot - nay, passion - for Jonathan and Darlene (in real life: Jo Stafford and husband, bandleader and pianist Paul Weston). However, Jo Stafford's is one of the great voices of the 20th century and her recordings as Darlene are deliberately dreadful - for comedy purposes. (Jonathan and Darlene Edwards in Paris won Best Comedy Grammy in 1961.)
Meanwhile, long-time fans of Brown and Creyton will love their Glorious capers; Judi Farr is, as usual, subtly and intelligently hilarious; Cris Parker makes more than the most of her turn as the Latina domestic and Jonathan Gavin is a very talented actor and pianist who solidly anchors the show although Cosme is as camp as a row of tents. Despite these factors, however, on opening night at least the production seemed uncertain of its place - English farce or cockeyed cabaret - and veered precariously between the two. There were lots of laughs but the pace and style of farce were missing together with the conviction of truth telling. And those are the crucial ingredients in successful farce. From Charley's Aunt, first performed in 1892, through to the Aldwych farces of Ben Travers (Rookery Nook, last one (The Bed Before Yesterday) opening in 1975), the surface froth and bubble must be underpinned by serious intent - in the playing and direction - if the show is not to drift in and out of focus. Although it appears so effortless and silly, farce is possibly the most difficult of stage arts and neither the play nor this production has quite nailed it. (It revives thoughts at the time thatwas carried and made memorable by Caroline O'Connor rather than the script. )
Meanwhile, Glorious is fairy floss that will have great appeal to many (the Ensemble season is almost sold out already) and provides a tantalising glimpse of a remarkable woman who proved that with no talent, a blithe spirit and loads of money, anyone can get to Carnegie Hall.
