Joyride

I love musical theatre that makes me think.

You might assume that means I mainly enjoy composers known for their complex scores and themes – think of, say, Stephen Sondheim or Dave Malloy. And I do enjoy them! But oftentimes, you can find a lot to think about in other kinds of musicals, too.

For example, lately, my mind has been occupied trying to answer the following question:

How on earth did they manage to screw up the Roxette jukebox musical in Malmö Opera?

In the middle with the guitar, Sara Stjernfeldt as Stella
Photo by Jonas Persson

Many musical fans look down on jukebox musicals (= musicals that are created using pre-existing songs instead of newly composed music), and I used to be like that, too – but over the years, I've grown to love them.

Though it was Mamma Mia! in 1999 that started the still ongoing wave of jukebox musicals in the West End and on Broadway, different works of musical theatre have been making use of pre-existing hit songs for literally hundreds of years, so jukeboxes are actually an integral part of the history of musicals as a genre. Besides that, they're also a lot of fun! Mamma Mia!, Moulin Rouge!, Rock of Ages, & Juliet, En del av mitt hjärta... Sometimes, all you need is a bunch of pop songs clumsily inserted into a silly story to cheer you up.

Jukeboxes won me over for good in the last days of 2019, when I went to see the Swedish musical movie En del av mitt hjärta, a romantic comedy told via beloved Swedish pop artist Tomas Ledin's songs. As the movie opened with an absolutely cringeworthy scene where a teenage party turned into a housefire, I felt like I was being presented with a choice: I could either refuse to meet the movie at its own level and have the most miserable two hours ever, or I could embrace the camp, choose joy instead of cringe, and have a blast.

I chose the latter, had the time of my life, saw the movie six or seven more times, and spent the first two years of the pandemic listening to literally nothing but Tomas Ledin.

I'm sharing this experience because it made me understand how essential refusing to take yourself seriously really is when it comes to jukebox musicals. As a genre, all musicals are inherently melodramatic and over-the-top. Bursting into song whenever you feel a big feeling is extra, there is no way around it. And when the song you're bursting into happens to be SOS by ABBA... That's pure camp, and it's best enjoyed when both the people creating the jukebox musical and the people watching it are open to that.

In my opinion, as far as jukebox musical movies go, both Mamma Mias and aforementioned En del av mitt hjärta nail this balance: it's impossible to watch them without understanding that the people who made them had their tongues firmly in cheek the whole time, and that's exactly what makes them so entertaining. Of course these types of musicals aren't going to be the next Les Misérables or Hamilton, and it's fine, because they're not trying to be. They're just doing their own thing, trying to make you feel happy and nostalgic for a while, and it's fine.

So, having enjoyed all these musical romps based on Swedish pop, I was excited to see what kind of a story Malmö Opera's brand-new musical Joyride would tell via Roxette's songs. Surely, it shouldn't be too difficult to create a fun musical, something with plenty of romance and a bit of heartbreak until the inevitable happy ending, based on their hits?

Well.

Photo by Martin Paulsson

Malmö Opera has been marketing Joyride the musical as a feelgood experience. That's exactly the type of jukebox musical I tend to enjoy. So why did I leave the theatre feeling nonplussed instead of, well, good?

Besides Roxette's music, Joyride is also based on the novel Got You Back by Jane Fallon, adapted for the stage by Klas Abrahamsson and Guy Unsworth and directed by Unsworth. I haven't read the original novel, but I assume the gist is identical to the musical: our heroine Stephanie finds out her long-time partner Joe has been cheating on her with another woman called Katie – whom she decides to contact, suggesting that the two women team up to take their revenge on Joe. They start playing all sorts of tricks on him, working their way towards a grande finale where they'll both appear at his birthday party, dressed in matching outfits.

Just based on that short synopsis, I think there are three feelgood ways this story could end:

1) Stephanie and Katie fall in love with each other while planning their revenge, ditch Joe, and become a couple.

2) Stephanie and Katie become best friends, ditch Joe, and start some girlbossing business or other venture together.

3) Stephanie and Katie decide they don't mind sharing Joe after all, and the three live happily ever after in a ménage à trois.

So, which one is it? Spoilers: none of these. Instead, it ends with Stephanie agreeing to marry Joe, then cheating on him, then leaving him at the altar, then the couple's teenage daughter (rightfully!) yelling at her parents for not thinking about her best, and finally, Stephanie and Katie reflecting the way Stephanie's behaviour has sabotaged their budding relationship. The revenge at the birthday party is never enacted. There's no happily ever after for anyone either, no undying love or friendship. Just a broken family, difficult conversations, and a vague hope that maybe one day Stephanie and Katie can manage to become friends again. And then the show ends with a huge megamix encore that, after all that has happened, feels quite out of place.

To use an academic term: the vibes are off.

Alexander Lycke as Joe with Marsha Songcome as Katie
Photo by Martin Paulsson

To get to the heart of the problem with Joyride, let's take a look at the character of Joe, and his dreams. 

At the beginning of the musical, we learn that Joe has two passions in life: cheating on his partner, and cows. He's a veterinarian who likes working with cows so much, he claims he'd rather die than switch them for pampered city poodles. We're shown that his work days entail sticking his hands inside cows until he's got blood up to his elbows, and apparently, that's exactly how he likes it.

In the second act, Joe then makes the choice to abandon his beloved cows for the benefit of his upcoming marriage and starts working with tiny little dogs at a city clinic instead. This depresses him, and he sings a ballad while mournfully staring at plastic dog props. It's delivered earnestly, which actually makes it pretty funny. It's a silly juxtaposition, the motivation for this big musical number essentially being that the character feels sad about not getting to give C-sections to cows anymore – a noble ambition, to be sure, but also an absurd one.

That's, however, not the end of that, and this is where it gets confusing. A bit after the plastic dog scene, there's a completely serious, not-a-trace-of-irony-to-be-found-anywhere bit of dialogue where Stephanie tells Joe she liked him better before, when he still worked in the countryside chasing his dreams.

What dreams? The dreams of putting his hands inside cows? Wait – am I supposed to be taking this seriously?

Sitting down to watch this musical, I was so ready to embrace all the camp and silliness it was going to throw my way. But trying to mentally undo that attitude and start taking it all seriously instead... I can't say I was prepared for that.

It's like the musical has an identity crisis. It starts out as a straightforward farce where two gorgeous women mess with their cheating cow doctor of a man. The characters are caricatures and we get to enjoy their antics. Then, in the second act, the musical morphs into a messy drama where everyone has to grapple with the consequences of their silly actions and where the characters have real, hard conversations about their farcical lives. It's a mashup of two different genres of theatre that have nothing to do with each other, and the combo left me feeling puzzled. Does this musical even know how it wants its audience to feel?

I'm not saying feelgood jukebox musicals can't have their serious moments. Of course they can, just think of The Winner Takes It All in Mamma Mia!. But Mamma Mia! still ends with a wedding and a happily ever after. It knows how to balance the sincere with the lighthearted, and it makes sure that in the end, the happy feelings override everything else. Joyride doesn't.

As I mentioned earlier, Joyride's story is based on a novel. Maybe it was a bit overambitious of the creative team to try and include both pre-existing music and a pre-existing story in the same musical – and who knows, maybe they would have preferred a cheerier ending but were contractually obligated to stick to what's written in the book, if they wanted to use it at all?

If that's the case, to be honest, I think they should have ditched the book as a basis altogether and come up with another story. This is not called Got You Back the Musical after all, this is Joyride the Roxette musical, and I'm not so sure the story they chose serves the purpose of giving Roxette fans and musical enthusiasts the best possible night at the theatre. All the hits are there, sure, and they're performed beautifully. That may well be enough for many people. But wouldn't everybody feel even more satisfied if those hits were used to tell a real feelgood story?

And then, to make the matters worse, there's the relentless queerbaiting.

It must have been love..?
Marsha Songcome as Katie and Jessica Marberger as Stephanie
Photo by Jonas Persson

Here's how Dictionary.com defines queerbaiting:

"The term queerbaiting refers to the practice of implying non-heterosexual relationships or attraction (in a TV show, for example) to engage or attract an LGBTQ audience or otherwise generate interest without ever actually depicting such relationships or sexual interactions."

The way BBC's Sherlock depicts the relationship between Sherlock and Watson is an especially egrecious example of this – but I feel like what Joyride does with Stephanie and Katie could also be included next to that definition as a textbook example.

To make this easier to understand, let's imagine a musical or a movie where a man and a woman – let's call them Jack and Rose – find themselves in the following situations:

• Jack and Rose are at a bar discussing an important matter. It's Valentine's Day and the bartender thinks they're on a date, so he comes to serenade them with his guitar.
• Rose tells Jack that she's into astrology and she can see their zodiac signs are a perfect match for each other.
• Jack's daughter remarks that she's never seen Jack laugh like he does with Rose. Rose and the daughter start trusting each other and enjoying each other's company. 
• Jack's daughter tells Rose that since Rose can't have children of her own, she should consider marrying someone who already has a child.
  
• Jack tells Rose that though being cheated on has been the worst time of his life, it has also given him something valuable: Rose.
• Rose sings a sad breakup song after Jack abandons their plans and decides to go back to his former spouse.

Now, after all that, do you think the scriptwriters are trying to hint at something? Might Jack and Rose be falling in love with each other? Do you think they're going to become a couple at the end of the story?

What if Jack and Rose are called Stephanie and Katie instead? Should the scenes on that list suddenly be interpreted differently when they're about two women instead of a man and a woman?

Sometimes, what looks like queerbaiting may be done for other reasons. For example, a story being written or set in a time or a place where homosexual relationships are illegal might explain why a queer romance is only hinted at. But Joyride doesn't take place in any such era. Instead, it's got no less than three queer side characters, one of whom even gives Stephanie relationship advice, using her own failed lesbian romance as a cautionary tale – though I think it's worth noting that apart from one throwaway joke, none of these side characters are actually shown to engage in romantic relationships, either.

It feels distasteful to me that Joyride spends so much time hinting at a romantic relationship between the leading ladies but doesn't deliver anything. And try as I might, I do not understand why they are doing this. Surely everyone agrees by now that queerbaiting is bad and doesn't work as a marketing tactic? Certainly, if they're intent on telling a heterosexual story here, not hinting at a lesbian romance at all would upset both LGBTQIA+ people and their allies and homophobes less than putting all these little winks in the show but not committing to it.

Compared to queer men, queer women are underrepresented in musical theatre. Having the leading ladies confess their love for each other would have been a genuinely nice and refreshing way to end this story. I'll admit it, I took the bait! I thought there was no way that in 2024, they would include all those hints but not even have them kiss on the cheek in the end.

Not a very feelgood thing to do, in my opinion.

Are we feeling good yet!?
Photo by Jonas Persson

So, why exactly am I so upset about the plot of this jukebox musical that I've written this many words about it, and I'm still not done?

Because I'm frustrated. Because as a musical fan, it's much more annoying to see something like this than it would be to see a show that's a complete trainwreck from start to finish.

The thing is, Joyride is very close to being a good jukebox musical. Everything but the script is just fine: the cast, the orchestra, the visuals, the choreography... Even the first act of the story is mostly all right, it's only in the second act where it starts taking itself all too seriously and thus goes off the rails. In short, you have all the ingredients of a fun musical here, it's just the recipe that is wrong.

(Or everything is almost fine, I should say. I've two things to criticise that don't have to do with the script. One: the song arrangements and sound mixing could've used a bit more variety, more calm moments to contrast with all the big and bombastic show numbers – though I'm sure everything sounding a bit same-y was exacerbated by the acoustics of the house and me sitting too close to the speakers; I remember feeling the same way about the music when I saw Så som i himmelen in the same theatre. Two: you simply cannot cast Partik Martinsson and not give him anything to sing in the performances where he is not stepping in as the male lead. Seriously. What were they thinking!!)

And the most frustrating thing, I think, is that this would've been relatively easy to fix. Just let it be a full-blown farce from start to finish. Let the characters remain caricatures all the way through and let there be no real-world consequences for their dumb actions. Maybe add a couple of doors for people to barge in and out of at inopportune moments. Have a little heartbreak and a little angst along the way, but forget the serious arguments. Do not queerbait. And give us a happy ending!

Oh well. I said I love musical theatre that makes me think, and here I am, four days later, still thinking about why and how this show failed to make me happy. Not the exact experience I thought I was going to get with a Roxette jukebox musical, but I guess I'll take what I can get.

Pieni pohjoismainen hintavertailu

Helsingin kaupunginteatteri julkisti tänään musikaalifanien piireissä pitkään ja innokkaasti spekuloidun uutisen: Moulin Rouge! -musikaali saa Suomen ensi-iltansa HKT:n suurella näyttämöllä elokuussa 2024.

Kyseessä on yhteispohjoismainen tuotanto, joka on tänä syksynä jo ehtinyt saada ensi-iltansa Tukholmassa, Oslossa ja Kööpenhaminassa. Helsingissä nähdään siis ensi vuonna samalla tavalla ohjattu, lavastettu ja puvustettu esitys kuin muissakin pohjoismaisissa pääkaupungeissa, näyttelijät pukujen sisällä vain vaihtuvat.

Tämä tarjoaa meille herkullisen tilaisuuden pieneen hintavertailuun. Kuten edellä avasin, kaikissa pohjoismaisissa pääkaupungeissa on myynnissä tismalleen sama musikaalituote. Miten tämä tuote on eri maissa hinnoiteltu?

Olen jättänyt vertailusta pois dinner & show -liput, hotellipaketit, ryhmäalennukset ynnä muut pakettitarjoukset käsiohjelman ja mahdollisesti jotain muuta ekstraa sisältäviä VIP-lippuja lukuunottamatta. Vertailun hinnat ovat perushintoja eikä niissä oteta huomioon alennuskampanjoita. Valuuttamuunnoksiin käyttämäni kurssit ovat maanantain 27.11.2023 keskikursseja.

 

Hey, must be the money! Moulin Rougea ruotsalaisittain. Kuva: Mats Bäcker

Moulin Rouge!, Chinateatern (2Entertain & Vicky Nöjesproduktion), Tukholma

• VIP (sis. käsiohjelman, juomalipun ja paikan keskipermannolla) 
• 1 395 SEK
• 121,99 €
  
• Premium (keskipermannon rivit 6–11) 
• 1 095 SEK
• 95,76 €
• Kategoria A (keskipermannon rivit 3–5 ja 12–15 sekä permannon laitojen rivit 10–17)
• 995 SEK
• 87,01 €
  
• Kategoria B (keskipermannon rivit 1–2, permannon laitojen rivit 5–9 ja parven rivit 1–4)
• 895 SEK
• 78,27 €
  
• Kategoria C (parven rivit 5–11)
• 695 SEK
• 60,78 €
  
• Kategoria D (parven rivit 12–15) 
• 555 SEK
• 48,53 €
• Kategoria E (parven rivi 16, rajattu näkyvyys) 
• 395 SEK
• 34,54€

 

Moulin Rouge!, Chateau Neuf (Taran), Oslo

• Pöytäpaikat näyttämön vieressä 
• 1 325 NOK
• 113,40 €
• Istumapaikat katsomossa, kategoria 1 
• 1 070 NOK
• 91,58 €
  
• Istumapaikat katsomossa, kategoria 2 
• 920 NOK
• 78,74 €
• Istumapaikat katsomossa, kategoria 3 
• 825 NOK
• 70,61 €
  
• Istumapaikat katsomossa, kategoria 4 
• 555 NOK
• 47,50 €

 

Moulin Rouge!, Falkonersalen (One & Only Musicals), Kööpenhamina

• Diamond (sis. teosesittelyn, käsiohjelman/kirjasen, lasillisen kuohuvaa ja istumapaikan)
• 1 298 DKK
• 174,08 €
  
• Lipputyyppi O 
• Ke–to 978 DKK
• Ke–to 131,16 €
  
• Pe–su 1 048 DKK
• Pe–su 140,55 €
• Lipputyyppi A+ 
• Ke–to 848 DKK
• Ke–to 113,73 €
  
• Pe–su 918 DKK
• Pe–su 123,12 €
  
• Lipputyyppi A 
• Ke–to 698 DKK
• Ke–to 93,61 €
• Pe–su 768 DKK
• Pe–su 102,10 €
  
• Lipputyyppi B 
• Ke–to 548 DKK
• Ke–to 73,49 €
  
• Pe–su 618 DKK
• Pe–su 82,88 €
  
• Lipputyyppi C (pyörätuolipaikat) 
• Ke–to 448 DKK
• Ke–to 60,08 €
  
• Pe–su 468 DKK
• Pe–su 62,77 €
  
• Lipputyyppi D 
• Ke–to 298 DKK
• Ke–to 39,97 €
• Pe–su 348 DKK
• Pe–su 46,67 €

 

Ennen kuin paljastan loppuhuipennuksena Helsingin kaupunginteatterin hinnaston, haluan nostaa esille erään seikan – tosin sillä varauksella, että en ole pohjoismaisten teatterien nauttimien julkisten tukien asiantuntija. Olen tehnyt parhaani asian varmistamiseksi, mutta jos joku tämän tekstin lukija tietää minun olevan väärässä, toivon, että virheeni korjataan kommenteissa pikavauhtia.

Käsitykseni tilanteesta on kuitenkin seuraava: edellä mainitut teatterit ovat kaikki tuottaneet Moulin Rougensa yksityiseltä pohjalta. Toisin sanoen kotoinen HKT:mme on vertailun ainoa säännöllistä valtiontukea nauttiva taidelaitos.

Katsotaanpa sitten niitä hintoja.

Moulin Rouge!, Helsingin kaupunginteatteri, Helsinki

• VIP (sis. käsiohjelman ja paikan keskipermannon riveillä 5–7) 
• 102 €
• Peruslippu 
• 92 €
• Näkörajoitteiset aitiopaikat parvella
• 22 €
• Opiskelijalippu (saatavilla vain ma–to) 
• 46 €
• Eläkeläislippu (saatavilla vain ma–to) 
• 89 € 

 

Jokainen teatteri hinnoittelee totta kai tuotteensa ennen kaikkea sen mukaan, missä se arvioi oman yleisönsä kipurajan kulkevan, mutta tästä vertailusta herää silti muutamia ajatuksia. Niistä seuraavaksi.

Vertailun teattereista HKT erottuu kahdella tavalla: toisaalta se on ainoa, joka tarjoaa opiskelija- ja eläkeläisalennuksia (vaikka joku minua ilkeämpi ihminen voisikin nimittää arki-iltojen kolmen euron eläkeläisalennusta silkaksi pienituloisille eläkeläisille vittuil... enpä taidakaan jatkaa tätä ajatusta loppuun.) Toisaalta se on ainoa, jonka koko katsomo eturivistä aina parven takaosaan on hinnoiteltu yhdeksi ja samaksi hintaryhmäksi, à 92 €.

Tai no, onhan siellä vähän variaatiota. HKT:n permannon keskellä ovat perushintaa kalliimmat VIP- ja dinner & show -vyöhykkeet, ja näkörajoitteisilta aitiopaikoilta pääsee köyhäkin kurkistelemaan näyttämön tapahtumia. Näitä aitiopaikkoja on katsomokartasta laskettuna 14 kpl per esitys. Suuntaa-antavan Lippupiste-haun perusteella ne vaikuttavat jo myyneen melkein kaikista Moulin Rouge! -esityksistä loppuun.

Oli miten oli, minua kylmäisee huomata, miten paljon HKT:ia paremmin vertailun muut pohjoismaiset teatterit ottavat huomioon vähemmän varakkaat asiakkaansa. Ei niissäkään halvoilla hinnoilla juhlita, mutta sataa euroa lähestyvien helsinkiläisten peruslippujen rinnalla alta viisikymppiä Tukholman takarivistä alkaa vaikuttaa ihan kivalta diililtä.

En käy tässä väittämään, että olisi mikään tasa-arvon riemuvoitto mahdollistaa pienituloisille katsojille pääsy takaparvelle siinä, missä hyvätuloiset nautiskelevat etupermannon näkymistä – mutta on se kuitenkin tasa-arvoisempaa kuin se, ettei pienituloisille musikaalien ystäville ole muutaman näkörajoitepaikan lisäksi tarjolla yhtään mitään. HKT:n arki-iltojen alennukset eivät mielestäni riitä palvelemaan pienituloista yleisöä, sillä ne eivät lainkaan ota huomioon sitä, että pienituloisuus voi esimerkiksi sairauden tai työttömyyden muodossa koskettaa meistä jokaista, ei ainoastaan opiskelijoita ja eläkeläisiä.

Kaiken kaikkiaan suomalaisten musikaalien viimeaikainen hintakehitys (asiaa perkaa tämä Musikaalimatkassa-podcastin jakso), HKT:n Moulin Rouge! viimeisimpänä esimerkkinä, herättää pohtimaan seuraavaa: ovatko valtionosuusjärjestelmään kuuluvien teatterien musikaalit muuttumassa luksustuotteeksi, jonka ei ole tarkoituskaan olla kaikkia katsojia varten? Kuuluisiko julkisista varoista tuetun teatterin tarjota pääsy kaiken ohjelmistonsa pariin myös pienituloisille kansalaisille, vai onko ihan ok, että ohjelmistoon sisältyy teoksia, joista vähävaraiset hinnoitellaan lähtökohtaisesti ulos?

Kaikki muut vertailumme teatterit pystyvät, ilmeisesti konkurssiin menemättä, kauppaamaan köyhemmälle musikaalikansalle sentään muutamaa takariviä puoleen hintaan katsomon parhaisiin paikkoihin verrattuna. Niinpä haluaisin kovasti uskoa, että musikaalielämykset pienituloisille katsojille mahdollistava hinnoittelu olisi mahdollinen myös HKT:ssa ja muissa suomalaisissa vos-teattereissa – jos niin siis vain haluttaisiin toimia.

Lopuksi, koska olen sillä tavalla ikävä ja pikkumainen ihminen, ajattelin esitellä teille kaikille erityisen kalliin taidelaitoksen maineessa olevan Suomen Kansallisoopperan Lepakko-operetin tammikuun 2024 esitysten hinnaston. Ihan vain vertailun ja perspektiivin vuoksi.

 

Lepakko, Suomen Kansallisooppera

• Hintaryhmä A 
• 110 €
• Hintaryhmä B 
• 99 €
• Hintaryhmä C 
• 89 €
• Hintaryhmä D 
• 75 €
• Hintaryhmä E 
• 65 €
• Hintaryhmä F 
• 59 €
• Hintaryhmä G 
• 49 €

Hinnoista on mahdollista saada seuraavat alennukset:

• Nuorisoalennus 20-vuotiaille ja sitä nuoremmille
  
• -40–50 % lipun hinnasta 
• Ei koske hintaryhmiä F ja G
  
• Alennus opiskelijoille, varusmiehille ja siviilipalvelusmiehille
  
• -40 % lipun hinnasta 
• Ei koske hintaryhmiä F ja G
• Eläkeläisalennus
  
• -10 € / lippu 
• Koskee rajattuja paikkoja permannolla ja 1. parvella
• Liput saman päivän esitykseen alle 20-vuotiaille ja sitä nuoremmille, opiskelijoille, varusmiehille, siviilipalvelusmiehille, työttömille ja eläkeläisille 
• 20–50 € / lippu

Em. alennukset koskevat muuten myös viikonloppuja.

Norr in Bergen

As you can clearly tell by looking at this blog's archive, as of late, my life has been lacking in inspiring theatre.

Whatever was on in Finland during the first half of 2018 didn't really strike a chord with me, and the Finnish summer theatre season, with its traditional abundance of light plots and distasteful jokes accentuated with an occasional naked behind... It's just not what I'm looking for right now. Thus, no theatre for me for several months.

Not good.

Luckily, vikings came to my rescue! I just spent a couple of weeks in Norway, and in Bergen, I came across Norr – Da gudene breaket, a Norse mythology themed co-production by the Norwegian breakdance crew Absence and the Bergen-based theatre Den Nationale Scene.

I was enthralled.

Beforehand, I knew nothing about either breakdancing or Norse mythology. To be honest, I also didn't expect much.

Outside the theatre, the production was boldly advertised as "Norway's most extraordinary viking show", which sounded a little too good to be true. Judging by the hyperbole-laden posters alone, I was slightly afraid it might turn out to be a tastless cash grab designed to draw in viking-crazed tourists – but having been without theatre for so long and simply wishing to see something, I took the chance and bought a ticket.

Of course, it quickly turned out that the show truely is extraordinary.

In Norr, six dancers (Andreas Roksvåg, Piero Issa, Christopher Bottolfsen, Daniel Grindeland, Halvard Haldorsen and Ole Petter Knarvik) play mythological figures such as Odin, Thor and Loki. The one-hour-show follows the fates of the Norse gods from the creation of the universe to its violent destruction, showing us vignettes based on different tales, all told via breakdancing.

Inspired by the show, I spent the journey back to Finland reading about Norse mythology online, but I don't yet know enough about it to say if this is an accurate interpretation of the tales or not. What I can say, though, is that I think the intense Nordic myths and the energetic, powerful language of breakdance are a perfect fit.

In Norr, gods travel across different realms of the cosmos, battling mythical creatures as they go. The show features some rather melodramatic narration (apparently adapted from original old Norse poems) and more light-hearted dialogue – in English, so it's very tourist-friendly.

The sets by Hans Petter Harboe are rather minimal and designed with the choreography in mind, but a series of nice comic book style projections (illustrations by GUNDSGN Design, animated by Wirat Johannessen / Neolab by Knowit) helps to set different scenes and spaces apart. Here and there, the illustrations and the narration are combined in the form of fun RPG stats screens, presenting our heroes' personalities and skills and showing their stat points in attributes such as strenght, balance, IQ...

The music (by Tomtom Studio, Dj Embee, Jonathan Sigsworth, Haakon Lund, Canardus Horribilis and Hans Einar Appeland) and the lights (by Einar Bjarkø) mix with the movement just right, so well they create a couple of moments where time seems to slow down a little. Or maybe that was the overwhelming effect of seeing breakdancing live for the first time!

I'm seriously in awe, thinking back to the talent of the dancers. They create fun characters – my favourites were Grindeland and Issa as brothers Thor and Baldr, one as brash and boisterous as the other is sweet and loving. It's a really good show for a breakdance novice like me, the characters and the stories are entertaining and the movement is truely impressive. My mouth was really left hanging open by some of the tricks.

Thor high-fiving a valiant mortal.

Norr has been playing since 2015, so even though the summer 2018 performances are almost over (last show July 22th), maybe you can catch it sometime in the future if you happen to be visiting Bergen. Or something else by Abscence Crew, I'm sure their other performances are equally impressive.

This show is a good fit for the whole family, and the dancers interact with audience members both big and small – if you're not a fan of that, maybe avoid the front row altogether... During the curtain call, a lucky little kid even got to share a moment onstage with the god Baldr.

This show washed away my theatrical doldrums and inspired me to learn more about Norse mythology, so I'm doubly glad I happened to stumble across it. Breaking viking magic!

One video more.

Photos by Magnus Skrede.

The Book of Mormon, Det Ny Teater

Seems like all musicals I've seen lately deal with religious themes. After Godspell, Jesus Christ Superstar and The Prince of Egypt, last Saturday, it was time for the Danish production of The Book of Mormon in Copenhagen's Det Ny Teater.

Of course, compared with the rest of that lot, the satirical and parodical Book of Mormon is a different thing entirely. Lately, this story of two clueless Mormon missionaries in Uganda has sneakily become one of my favourite musicals – I thought I didn't much like it, but somehow, I've still seen it in three different countries during the last year alone.

Let's see how the Danish production fares.

In all honesty, I'm still confused Det Ny Teater's production, directed by Kasper Holten. It had plenty of moments I enjoyed, but somehow, I'm still baffled by it. So, to clear my mind, maybe I'll start off simply by listing some details.

Things I enjoyed:

• Price's moves! Silas Holst is a professional dancer, and that shows. His footwork during All-American Prophet is a joy to watch.
• All of the Ugandans have plenty of personality, more than in any other production I've seen. Their costumes by Stefen Aarfing are also nice.
• Mafala (Robert Bengtsson) and Nabulungi (Lea Thiim Harder) have a very sweet father-daughter relationship.
• The General's understudy was on, so Joseph Smith was played by a lady in Joseph Smith American Moses.
• The Mission President's long, long silence after the Ugandans finish their play. Hilarious.
• The orchestration and the orchestra, conducted by Per Engström. Top notch! There are many new, fun little details in the orhcestrations (and the variation in the volume is a welcome change after seeing and hearing the 120-dB-at-all-times Swedish production).

Things I didn't enjoy:

• The sets and the video projections. To my tastes, the sets by Stefen Aarfing are a bit too sparse and sleek, and together with the naivistic video projections, they create an odd combo. 
• Carsten Svendsen's Cunningham is too clean-cut. By looks alone, were it not for the glasses, you could mistake him for Price.
• Spooky Mormon Hell Dream. They have a really impressive-looking laser show on a dark stage that almost makes the scene feel scary for real – but that's hardly the point.
• Nabulungi is not happy after her babtism. I think it's way funnier if they, uh, reach the climax of being babtized together.
• Cutting Nabulungi's sad Hasa Diga Eebowai reprise.

So, plenty of good and some confusion. In the end, I think the problem is not in the details – it's that the overall tone of the production feels a little bit too realistic for my tastes.

The direction of this production is more drama-like than usually. Both Price and especially Cunningham feel really easily relatable, the stereotypical aspects of both leads and the Ugandans are somewhat toned down and certain serious moments are more serious than ever. That, in turn, makes the moments of bad taste seem ever worse and the underlying severity of the whole story feel a bit too real. While it's nice they're trying something new with the material, I'm afraid that for me, it's not really working.

A fellow blogger has a good point when they say this production hasn't quite found the right balance in between originality and the original story. Check out their analysis. I agree with them, I think some scenes have a slight reinventing-the-wheel vibe going on.

This is exemplified by the scene where the General shoves the titular book up Price's behind. They tear his pants down, lube the book and make it exceedingly clear what is going to happen next. It's certainly daring and shocking to show it, but when you stage the scene like that, the reveal of the x-ray is not as suprising and therefore doesn't elicit such a huge response.

Ultimately, I'd like to quote The Simpsons: still funny, but not ha-ha funny. 

This production of The Book of Mormon is entertaining and every aspect of it is professionally done, but somehow, it's not quite the a-laugh-a-minute musical I know and enjoy. I've seen The Book of Mormon in all Scandinavian countries now, and in Sweden and Norway, the audience literally screamed with laughter. Here, the audience reactions were more subdued. Just like the production itself.

Glad I saw it once, but wouldn't necessarily go for seconds.

Photos by Miklos Szabo.

The Prince of Egypt, Fredericia Teater

Please note: Fredericia Teater invited me to see their production of The Prince of Egypt for free.

I would have wanted to love this musical.

Dreamworks' 1998 animated movie The Prince of Egypt is one of my top favourite animations, even top favourite movies, of all time. It retells the Biblical story of Moses, combining intense music with beautiful visuals to such an effect I cannot watch it without crying.

So, hearing the world premiere of a musical based on the movie was going to take place in Fredericia Teater, Denmark (the very same theatre that brought us that amazing production of Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame), as an American/Danish co-production – well, you try not getting excited. I attended the opening night last Friday.

I would have loved to like it, but I have to be honest. It was a complete mess.

The story of the Dreamworks picture (directed by Brenda Chapman, Steve Hickner and Simon Wells, screenplay by Philip LaZebnik and Nicholas Meyer, songs by Stephen Schwartz and score by Hans Zimmer) is based on the Book of Exodus and can be summarised in a couple of short sentences: Moses and Ramses are brothers. God gives Moses a difficult task. The brothers turn into enemies.

The movie starts off with the following disclaimer: While artistic and historical license has been taken, we believe this film is true to the essence, values and integrity of a story that is a cornerstone of faith for millions of people worldwide.

The new musical is written by LaZebnik too, but instead of respectfully expanding upon the movie while keeping in mind the story's Abrahamic origins, it serves us an unfocused, childish jumble of new characters, scenes, and motivations. The subtlety, beauty and indeed integrity of the original film is thrown out of the window. Instead, we get less-than-memorable new tunes from Schwartz, cringeworthy jokes and an ending so naïve and sappy it puts all Disney fairytales to shame.

Let me walk you through this.

The first act is not without its problems, but, in the grand scheme of things, it's quite serviceable. You have baby Moses in the basket on the river, Moses and Ramses growing up together, their father the Pharaoh raising his boys with an iron fist and insisting that crown prince Ramses shall not be the weak link to break the chain of their mighty dynasty. You have Moses killing a guard, running away to the desert and meeting his destiny.

It's not perfect but leaves you curious for the second act – which is where all hope is lost.

Where shall I start? Should I first tell you about the comic relief-y song about slavery, or maybe the evil high priest who keeps pressuring Ramses into making bad decisions? Or about Moses's first miracle being, instead of his staff turning into a snake, him stumbling into the Nile and accidentally turning the water into blood? Or how, in the end, Moses and Ramses make amends and the force ghost of their father the Pharaoh comes back to bless their brotherly union?

I am serious with this.

Some more details before delving into further analysis. Tzipporah tells Moses and Ramses she is not going to dance for them, while sexily dancing. Moses doesn't help Tzipporah escape, he barely lets her out of her chains so she can dance better. Moses only stops the guard beating the slaves when he starts hitting his sister Miriam too. Moses and Tzipporah flirt while watching sheep mating. Ramses and Moses make sexist jokes about their wives. Moses visits his ailing adoptive mother, who scolds him about sending the plagues upon Egypt. The burning bush scene lasts for about 30 seconds. The ghost of the Pharaoh teaches Moses that sometimes you just have to kill a bunch of babies to make things work.

Besides the complete lack of focus, the musical has a really vague, disappointing relationship with God, morality and the supernatural.

No matter whether you're a believer or not, if you're adapting the story of Moses, you have to accept that God is going to be one of your major characters. Or so you would think. Here, blink and you miss the burning bush – it doesn't get its own scene, it's seriously a sidetrack in the first act finale – and even the miracles Moses performs are glanced over. All the moral lessons are heavy-handed, and instead of Ramses making his own bad decisions, a moustache-twirling high priest keeps pulling the strings and promptly gets killed off for his evil deeds.

I understand turning a 90-minute-movie into a musical requires changing things and adding new material, but for the life of me, I cannot understand why all subtlety, respect and trust in the audience's capability to think for themselves has to be lost in the process. In the musical, they would have had a fantastic chance of exploring things like Ramses coming to terms with his own mortality (all his life, he's been told he's a living god, but then his brother lines up with a deity more powerful than him) or, say, the relationship in between Moses and his biological siblings.

But what do we get?

Force ghost Pharaoh and the power of love, that's what.

Fredericia Teater's production, directed by Scott Schwartz, has its bright moments – above all else, Sean Cheesman's innovative, beautiful choreography and the vocals of leading man Diluckshan Jeyaratnam.

Cheesman's choreography and the talented dancers are the true stars of the show, I only wish there was even more space for dance. The dancers form the river, the horses and chariots, the desert sand, the burning bush... There are also some more traditional but nevertheless impressive dance breaks. Through Heaven's Eyes is absolutely wild.

When it comes to the actors' performances, besides admiring Jeyaratnam's vocal chops, I was entertained by Mads M. Nielsen's performance as Pharaoh Seti. He chews the scenery, shouts and yells and looms around, it's all rather hammy and very amusing. For the most part, though, the performances felt rather one-note to me. Maybe that's because the characters are written as such, or maybe I'm just not the biggest fan of Scott Schwartz's style of directing, seeing I wasn't too hot on his Hunchback, either.

The visuals are hit-and-miss. The minimalistic sets by Kevin Depinet and the digital scenography by Jakob Bønsdorff Eriksen are pretty. The costume design by the Tony-winning designer Ann Hould-Ward, however, looks cheap and weird and honestly ugly, not quite modern but definitively not period either.

The physical production would be all right, though, were it not for the mess of a script and lackluster songs. You cannot mask such fundamental problems, no matter how high your production values are.

How I wish this musical would have been worth seeing.

The Prince of Egypt is a gorgeous movie. The good thing is that no matter what the musical is like, no one's going to take that away from me, I can still enjoy the film whenever I want to. But I know how eagerly the musical fandom has been looking forward to the musical adaptation, and I think it's a huge shame this is how it turned out to be.

I suppose they're still testing the musical out in Denmark and, hopefully, are making changes to it before trying to produce it anywhere else. They have to do a lot, a lot, to make this work, but I wish they'll go to the trouble.

Both the movie and the age-old story of Moses deserve a way better musical adaptation.

Photos by Søren Malmose.
Also read The San Francisco Chronicle's review of the Californian run of this international production – not much was fixed in between that and the Danish run, it seems like.

P.S. About the songs from the original movie: they're still absolutely gorgeous, even if all that remains of Playing with the Big Boys is the intro and The Plagues has been combined with another, inferior tune. The former I could forgive, but the latter... If you've ever heard the song, I'm sure you understand why I cannot.
P.P.S. The crossing of the Red Sea was done by splitting the orchestra stalls in two. Sorta impressive.

Early 2018 Recap

I'm still alive!

From the first days of 2018, I've been really busy with many new projects (first and foremost the musical podcast I co-host, listen to our playlist of interviews in English here), so though I've missed writing, I haven't had enough time to blog in the past months.

I have, however, had time for theatre – so here are three mini-sized reviews of productions I've seen as of late.

A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder, Oscarsteatern

Sara Jangfeldt and Andreas T Olsson. Photo by Mats Bäcker.

First, a macabre little romp to get this year going!

A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder tells the story of a man who finds out he's a distant relative of a rich aristocratic family. Soon, he figures out that the only way he's ever going to inherit the family fortune is to murder his newfound relatives in increasingly imaginative ways...

Henrik Dorsin, who plays the D'Ysquith family (all the relatives meeting their end, that is), is advertised as the big star of the newest Swedish production. He is funny in his multitude of roles – but my personal favourites are Andreas T Olsson and Sara Jangfeldt as the murderous gentleman Monty Navarro and his feisty sweetheart Sibella. You know how you sometimes take a liking to an actor immediately, how your gaze is drawn to them and just watching them onstage makes you happy? Both Olsson and Jangfeldt had that effect on me.

I have to mention that I'm not too enamored by the portrayal of women in this musical. The cheerfully self-centered and calculating Sibella is fun, but her counterpart Phoebe, who's sweet and kind and only wants to marry for love... yawn.

Overall, though, I like the characters and the story. The tunes are not especially catchy, but the lyrics are witty, and many scenes made me laugh out loud.

Sometimes, a light-hearted tale of murder is just what you need. A fun, yet not all that memorable experience.

Godspell, Tampereen Työväen Teatteri

Please note: I was invited to see this production for free because we made a podcast episode partially about it.

In the middle, Sonja Pajunoja as Jesus. Photo by Kari Sunnari.

I knew nothing of Godspell beforehand except for that it's composed by Stephen Schwartz and about Jesus. Turns out, it's a full-blown concept musical based on the teachings of Jesus Christ. Parables of Jesus and praise of God via vaudeville-ish song and dance numbers.

Man, the 70s gave us some pretty odd musicals.

It took me a while to warm up to this. To me, the concept feels like a Christian youth club on steroids – Christianity is cool, y'all!! For someone like me, who's always felt averse of organized religion, it felt a bit too revival-meeting-like to have all that energetic gospel with hardly any criticism mixed in. Or maybe it's just too American for my tastes, praising God out in the open like that. In Finland, religion is generally a much more private matter.

But as the show went on, I did warm up to it. Sonja Pajunoja is a charismatic Jesus, kind and loving yet firm when the situation calls for it. The whole ensemble, from Tampere University of Applied Science's Music Academy, is bursting with talent and energy. Not to mention the super catchy music.

So, Godspell. A little awkward, but in a really cheerful way.

Jesus Christ Superstar in Concert, Åbo Svenska Teater

Please note: I was invited to see this production for free because we made a podcast episode partially about it.

Listen to Alexander Lycke sing Gethsemane.

Godspell might have been a bit too much for me, but for my tastes, Jesus Christ Superstar has just the right mix of religious themes and cynicism. It is one of my top five favourite musicals. The last time we had it in Finland, I saw it eight times in ten weeks and it was a cathartic experience every time.

I haven't seen JCS since those eight times... until this March, that is. A couple of weeks ago, I had the pleasure of seeing a touring concert production, performed by the Swedish rock band Astrakhan, helmed by Alexander Lycke as Jesus and featuring Mats Levén as Judas.

I just read an interesting analysis on Jesus Christ Superstar by a fellow blogger. It discusses how JCS feels stuck in the 90s because composer Andrew Lloyd Webber uses his veto power to stop major productions reinventing the material in any substantial way. Am I glad I live north enough that ALW doesn't seem to care what's going on here!

This concert had many of the elements the productions criticized in the analysis don't – namely, truely unique rock/progressive/whatever-you'd-call-that arrangements (here's how Astrakhan defines its music: "With love for hardrock and hatred of the genres conventions and standardization") and impressive, improvised solos (a full-blown drum solo in JCS, how about that). The production had a rather simple rock concert aesthetic with some striking projections, and despite being a concert first and a musical second, the story still snuck up on you.

Fully staged productions of JCS are their own thing, but when it comes to concert editions, this was as good as it gets. It's like the music was meant to be played like this, with a small band and a loud volume. It was mesmerizing.

Some of the news outlets that covered the concert mentioned that it could become an Easter tradition. I truely hope so. I would love to experience this again.

P.S. Listen to our podcast interview (in English) with the leads of Godspell and Jesus Christ Superstar!

Les Mis in Vanemuine and SMOT: Assorted Thoughts

I'm not as young as I once were.

There was a time when I was able to watch Les Misérables five times in the span of a single month with no repercussions whatsoever, but nowadays, give me four Les Mises in three months and I'm an emotional wreck of a human being, hardly able to form full sentences about the experience.

Without further ado, here are some bullet points about my latest Les Mises.

Vanemuine, Tartu, Estonia

Photo by Maris Savik.

• The Estonians have translated the musical's title. Instead of the original French title, it's known as Hüljatud.
• This production is directed by Samuel Harjanne, who is a true Les Mis vet: from Gavroche to Enjolras to director! And indeed, he's directed a very good production of the show.
• Every principal role but Marius is played by two alternates.
• Loved Tamar Nugis as Javert. Classic style with a ponytail and a blue uniform. A classic performance, too, with a little bit of Philip Quast and a touch of Earl Carpenter. Really good.
• Jean Valjean, Mikk Saar, sings very beautifully, but to my taste, his Valjean is too soft – for example, during What Have I Done, it seems like he's on the verge of tears most of the time. I prefer my Valjeans with a harder, more threatening edge.
• The direction puts plenty of focus on Marius (Kaarel Targo) and Cosette's (Maria Listra) romance: first, when Marius is bumbling in Cosette's garden, they offer some comic relief, but during One Day More, you can't help feeling moved by their goodbyes. These two have such a short time onstage together, I'm happy to see a production that makes the most out of it.
• The lighting design by Petri Tuhkanen! Some of the best I've ever seen in any musical. Clever use of shadows, strong colours, such strong contrasts that sometimes the light almost feels like a physical entity. Very beautiful.
• Javert sports some thigh high boots on the barricade. I don't know what to think about that.

In a nutshell: this is a good production of Les Misérables. Not mindblowing or overwhelming – but not every production has to be. It's good and thoroughly enjoyable, and I like how it doesn't try to fix things that aren't broken. Very glad I saw it, and maybe one day when my Les Mis hangover has cured, I'll try to see the alternate cast too.

(Finnish friends: listen to a podcast episode that features an interview with director Harjanne here.)

Smålands Musik & Teater, Jönköping, Sweden

Photo by Lars Kroon.

I first saw this production in September and wrote about it here, so this time, just some more thoughts about my favourite characters.

Jean Valjean and Javert

• Alexander Lycke's Valjean... The reason I bought tickets to two separate performances from the get-go. I've been a fan since 2010, I've said everything already, feels pointless repeating how much I adore Lycke in the role. This production is over soon and I might never see him play the part again, but I'm not going to feel sad about that – I'm just happy I got these two chances to see him as Valjean again.
• Here's a detail I enjoyed, though. During The Bargain, you can tell Valjean sees right through the absurdity of it all, going as far as trying to exchange some can-you-believe-this looks with Madame Thénardier before it turns out she's just as greedy as her husband. Maybe there's a little spark of humour in him!
• I have seen Philip Jalmelid play Javert twice before. At first, I thought he sings the part to perfection but acts too angrily, making Javert seem more like a Disney villain and less like a complex antagonist. But now, late in his second run in the role, he has calmed down just right. Suddenly, the performance is nothing short of perfect. This Javert is intense, determined, three-dimensional all the way through. I guess sometimes it takes a while to really appreciate a performance, maybe both the performer and the person watching need to take some time before warming up to the part, but I'm glad these things happen. One of my personal top 3 Javerts now.
• Some bits I enjoyed especially:
• Javert's attitude towards Monsieur le Maire taking a complete 180 degree turn when it turns out he's been Jean Valjean the whole time.
• How Javert mockingly repeats Valjean's words about Marius needing a doctor's care under his breath in the sewer scene.
• The Confrontation is so intense. There is nothing unnecessary going on, just a battle of wills... And, well, Javert almost getting his head bashed over with a chair – but that was also done very well. This Valjean definitely has that threatening edge.
• From now on, no lesser Valjean & Javert duo will do. Maybe do not accompany me to Les Mis with me until this memory has faded. You're going to have a terrible time listening to my neverending these guys are all right, sure, but let me tell you about Valjean and Javert in the 2017 Jönköping production monologue.

 

Cosette and co.

• The production has changed Cosettes since I last saw it. Linnea Hyltenfeldt's Cosette is nothing short of adorable, there is something so sweet and bubbly and lively to her. And then her smiling through her tears in the finale, knowing she'll lose her father soon but doing all she can to make their last moments together happy and calm... I love Cosette.
• Cosette is way shorter than Valjean and Marius (who are both really tall), which is sorta cute. When Marius spins her around it's like she's flying a meter above the ground.
• Cosette, Marius (Kalle Malmberg) and Éponine (Hanna Holmgren) all feel very young in this production, like teenagers. That's very good. I imagine this Marius has known Éponine for a long time and still thinks of her as a child, a little sister almost – whereas Cosette, in the young man's eyes, is a full-grown woman. It's even clearer than usual that Éponine really doesn't have any chance.
• Cosette deserves so much more that what little this musical gives her.

Enjolras

• I used to be an Enjolras person*. Nowadays, I'm way more into Valjean and Javert and, I admit, tend to zone out a bit during the barricade scenes. Luckily, this time around, my friend firmly told me to pay close attention to Petter Snive's Enjolras. I did, and found myself really liking the character, for the first time in years.
• This Enjolras has energy and drive. He's also very, very done with all his friends when they don't seem to be sharing that, instead focusing on Marius's love life. It feels to me he's a bit apart from the rest of a group, a leader instead of a friend. I like that.
• His death! One of the best Enjolras deaths I've ever seen: when it becomes clear there's nothing left to do, Enjolras sinks into violent, terrified desperation. Every trace of calmness and grace is gone, the whole thing turns into a suicide mission. It's not pretty, it's not majestic, it's horrible and very effective.
• Nice Enjolraic looks are a bonus.

Other assorted thoughts

• Two seats from me, a lucky soul was experiencing the magic of Les Misérables for the very first time. They gasped and pointed when Javert appeared onstage after Fantine's death – oh no, he's here and now he's going to get Valjean! I'm happy for that person.
• There is no such thing as a perfect production of Les Mis (or perfect anything), but at least for now, this direction by James Grieve is the number one for me.

As I wrote at the start of this blog entry, four performances of Les Mis in the span of only three months is a lot. It's a marathon of a musical that makes me feel about five times more strongly that any other piece of theatre. I've been a fan for nine years soon but seeing the show live still makes my heart beat faster. It's been good, seeing all these productions, but now, it's about time for a little break.

I think these memories will last for a while.

* According to a theory I came up with, you can divide the whole Les Misérables fandom in Team Enjolras and Team Javert. Actual favourite characters may vary, but no matter what, you're a member of one team or the other. Team Enjolras prefers the barricade scenes, can tell which barricade boy is which by their lines in Do You Hear the People Sing and likes modern AU fanfiction. Team Javert prefers the non-barricade scenes, has a secret soft spot for the 1978 movie adaptation with Anthony Perkins as Javert and holds their breath every time Jean Valjean and Javert are onstage at the same time.

Nordic Reviews: Les Mis in Oslo

This autumn in Oslo's Folketeateret, Scenekvelder has put together a memorable production of Les Misérables.

At surface, it seems like a well-made if not very imaginative production of good ol' Les Mis: the music sounds good and all the leading actors have beautiful voices, there are big emotions and lots of people onstage, the sets are grand and the costumes suitably ragged.

Under the surface, it's actually the oddest and most unfocused production of Les Mis I've ever seen.

Let's take a look.

André Søfteland as Jean Valjean and Hans Marius Hoff Mittet as Javert

The new Norwegian production of Les Mis is directed by Per-Olav Sørensen. According to his bio in the souvenir programme, he has directed plenty of theatre, films and TV. No mention of any further stage musicals, though, and maybe it's no wonder – seeing this show, it feels like mega musicals might not be his best genre.

First of all, the pacing of this production is strikingly slow. The music is in a way slower tempo than we're used to in contemporary productions of Les Mis. Everyone also takes their sweet time getting from place A to place B. For example, you know how Enjolras usually rushes onstage in One Day More, giving an energetic, dynamic impression? Here, he calmly walks to take his place downstage. There are many scenes where the pace is similarly sluggish, though the music and lyrics suggest fast action.

Considering that, it's odd how all the way through, the direction is really, really afraid of giving anyone any quiet time alone.

There's some unnecessary action going on during every other iconic solo of the show: Fantine changes into her prostitute costume in the middle of I Dreamed a Dream, Valjean gathers up firearms while singing Bring Him Home... It's as if the production doesn't really trust the source material, thinking people will get bored unless multiple things happen simultaneously all the time.

The production has a huge ensemble and they're onstage a lot. Sometimes they simply hang out in the background while someone else sings a solo or a duet. That's really odd. It feels like they're breaking some unwritten rule of musical theatre.

Usually, if there are others onstage during a solo, they're either a) listening to what the character has to say, like the Argentinians in Don't Cry for Me, Argentina from Evita, b) are meant to signify something, like when Les Amis appear during Empty Chairs at Empty Tables as a visual representation of Marius's memories, or c) are backup dancers.

But when you have, say, beggars sitting on street corners while Javert sings his heart out in Stars... What is their purpose in the scene? Do they relate to Javert somehow? Do they hear what he says, and if so, why don't they seem to care? Or the nuns that appear in Confrontation, calmly wrapping Fantine's body in a sheet while Jean Valjean and Javert yell at each other – why don't they do something to stop the fight, or at least act scared or annoyed?

Why can't the main characters have these moments alone?

Hans Marius Hoff Mittet as Javert and Haddy Njie as Fantine

In general, I think the production's biggest issue is the lack of focus. Some productions have a way of leading the audience's gaze to the right spot and the right character in every scene. Here, so much is happening you don't know where to watch.

In the souvenir programme, director Sørensen boasts that they have almost twice as many people onstage as an average production of Les Mis. He thinks it makes the whole thing more impressive. I disagree. Maybe, if the director had some good use for the extra ensemble, it really would be striking – but as is, it seems they're there just for grandness' sake. Not impressed.

Granted, Folketeateret has a huge stage, both wide and deep, and I'm sure it has been a big challenge coming up with ways to fill the space. I have a feeling, though, that both sets (design by Petr Hlousek) and lighting (design by Reidar Andreas Richardsen) could have been used a bit more effectively to divide the big space into smaller compartments. The lighting design is actually sort of disappointing – with lots of hard edges and cold tones, I think it would seem more at home in some small-scale onstage adaptation of a Nordic noir novel.

On the right, Karin Park as Fantine

In his essay in the souvenir programme, director Sørensen says this production is all about realism. The thing is, I don't think Les Misérables is meant to be a realistic musical. To function as it should, I believe it requires a dash of melodrama, a touch of something grand and noble.

In most productions, the way the characters' deaths are handled underlines the romantic undertone of the story. If the deaths are all majestic, like the iconic tableau of Enjolras lying on the barricade, it does not feel out of place when the characters rise from the dead in the musical's finale. But here, the whole epilogue is like from some other musical. After they unceremoniously roll Fantine into a sheet and dump Éponine in a sewer, it does not seem right they come back to welcome Valjean into the afterlife.

This production is strongly reminiscent of the 2012 movie adaptation of Les Mis, both visually (the costume design by Oddfrid Ropstad especially) and direction-wise. I get the feeling Sørensen has watched the Tom Hooper film one time too many and tried bringing its brand of gritty realism onstage, without stopping to think whether the style Hooper chose actually benefits the source material or not.
 
Don't get me wrong, the direction is not all bad. There are many good little details – like Cosette recognising the Thénardiers in the wedding – but sadly, it's the weird moments that stick out.

I'm not going to make a full list, but here are three details that I found the silliest: Javert, who otherwise seems like a calm dude, straight up punches Jean Valjean not once but twice; Valjean reveals his true identity in the court by taking off his wig (must be hard being the only bald guy in all of France); in Paris, Marius follows Cosette around from one poor person to next and they end up wiping the same beggar's face.

As far as I can tell, the cast is all good, it's just that oftentimes the directional decisions distracted me from focusing on the performances themselves. I wish I could tell you what André Søfteland's Valjean is like, but I really had a hard time concentrating on him with so many other weird things happening and so many other people onstage.

I did like Javert, though.

I got the vibe I would absolutely adore Hans Marius Hoff Mittet's portrayal of the character in some other production, or even here, if I got to see him again from the front row instead of the balcony. He had a nice undertone of calmness and introspection going on. That's something you don't see all that often these days, with so many overstatedly angry Javerts out there. Both Hoff Mittet's voice and his performance reminded me of the Finnish Sören Lillkung, a longtime favourite Javert of mine. So thumbs up!

Andreas Hoff as Enjolras

Besides Javert, there is an another, more surprising upside to this.

To me, the most interesting thing in the whole show was the relationship in between the revolutionary Enjolras (played by Andreas Hoff) and the revolution's token sceptic Grantaire (Lasse Vermeli). In Hugo's original novel, many interpret Grantaire being unrequitedly in love with Enjolras, but here, the feelings are mutual.

It's a thing in the Les Mis fandom, wanting to see these two characters together. This production got the memo.

In the first act, Enjolras uses a lot of time convincing Grantaire the revolution's worth joining – most notably singing his whole verse in One Day More to Grantaire and Grantaire alone. At the same time, he teaches him how to shoot a gun, in the romantic comedy trope sort of way. You know, standing unnecessarily close to him, gently taking his hands to correct the way he holds the weapon. This goes on throughout the song.

In the second act, they fight, they make up, they hold hands. When the barricade is about to fall, Enjolras bids Grantaire the most heartbreaking farewell in musical history by taking his hands and kissing them. Ah, my heart, this is worse than Titanic! Then, in the finale, Grantaire rushes to join Enjolras, and the two of them once again stand side by side in the afterlife. Good for them, and good for Grantaire especially. It must be hard being in love with someone who clearly loves you back, but loves the revolution even more.

But all that said... Well, being a fan, I enjoyed seeing Enjolras and Grantaire's romance flourish onstage, it certainly made the production more fun to watch. At the same time, though, I think it stripped Enjolras of the role he's supposed to play. He's not onstage a lot, he only has a couple of scenes to convince the people of Paris (and also the audience) that the revolution is worth dying for. How can he do that when they make him spend most of his time telling his sceptic boyfriend it'll be nice dying together? They're a cute couple, but seriously, that's not what Enjolras is supposed to be doing.

Lasse Vermeli as Grantaire

In short, I suppose if you've never seen Les Mis before, this production works okay.

The show looks good and sounds good, the iconic songs are of course all there, you get a grasp of what the story's about. If you're a big fan of Les Misérables the movie, you'll probably like this too, it's so obviously inspired by Tom Hooper's vision. The whole thing is very big and grandiose, if that's your thing. But if you're like me and know the original stage musical by heart, I'm certain you'll be struck by the weird pacing and the absurdity of the details.

I'm glad I got to see this production once, but at the same time, I'm glad I don't have to see it ever again.

Photos by Fredrik Arff.

Les Misérables, Smålands Musik & Teater

It's good, getting your autumn started with some top-quality Les Mis!

A little over a week ago, me and two good friends of mine traveled to Jönköping, Sweden to see the opening night of Smålands Musik & Teater and Kulturhuset Spira's new production of Les Misérables. Apart from the leading actors, this production (directed by James Grieve) is essentially identical to Wermland Opera's 2016 production I saw twice last year. So if you want to read my general opinions, check out my first and second 2016 reviews. In them, I talk about the direction and the visuals, no need to repeat that here.

Instead, a couple of impressions about my favourite performances.

I already wrote about this a while ago: my number one reason to see this show, and the reason I convinced my friends to come with me, was that the leading role of Jean Valjean is played by Alexander Lycke. From 2010 to 2012, he played the same role in Åbo Svenska Teater here in Finland. I loved that production with all my heart, so of course I had to travel to see this one too.

This is just so special to me. The relationship in between me and Les Mis, if you can use that word to describe the bond in between a musical and a person, goes deeper than me just being a fan of the show. After seeing it live 30+ times, it still hits me harder than any other musical. The ÅST production is especially important to me since it marks something of a turning point in my life. So you can imagine how exciting it was seeing Lycke in the role again!

Even so, it's nice that instead of a walk down the memory lane, this is a different take with all sorts of different details. I think Lycke's portrayal of Valjean has grown lots and lots – he was certainly good the last time, no doubt about that, but the character feels even more 3D and well-rounded now. I guess I have grown and changed during the past six years, too, maybe I now look at the character in a different way myself too. So, it's a little bit more grown-up edition of the character for a little bit more grown-up me.

I already knew that this direction treats Valjean well, giving him space and depth. This time, I especially loved... no, scratch that, I was especially heartbroken to watch the character growing older during the course of the show. No overblown makeup, just some different wigs and very good acting.

Compared to Christer Nerfont, who I saw and loved in Wermland Opera's production, I really can't say whose acting I prefer. I think Lycke's Valjean is a bit more undemonstrative and guarded. Seems like this dude hardly admits his own feelings to himself, let alone others, until they become too much to bear and burst out in a series of wonderfully beautiful songs.

And about those, I've said it before and I'll say it again: no one sings the part better than Alex. I've nothing to add to that, that's just how it is.

If Jean Valjean was good, Javert wasn't half bad either.  

Philip Jalmelid is the only Wermland Opera lead to reprise his role in Smålands Musik & Teater's production. Back in Wermland Opera, I didn't really agree with all the details of his performance. While my personal interpretation of the character is still quite different from Jalmelid's, I appreciate how his Javert has calmed down since last year, become a little more restrained. The character feels a bit older and a bit more realistic now.

Though really, if you sing Stars as perfectly as Jalmelid does, I won't care if the rest of your performance is delivered via sock puppetry. Finding the right words to describe this rendition of Stars – my favourite Les Mis song! – is hard. Jalmelid's take was powerful in Karlstad already, but now, experienced from the front row...

It was like his voice filled every single square inch in the theatre, squeezing air out of my lungs and all wandering thoughts out of my mind. After the song, I was honestly a bit startled to hear my own voice: for a second there, I forgot all manners and just made the highest and loudest sound I possibly could. I needed to get all that excitement and emotion out of my system somehow.

If Stars was the highlight of the first act, Bring Him Home was easily the best part of the second half. I of course knew what was coming, I have heard that one from the front row a couple of times before, but still, it never fails to amaze me. How does Alex turn the most boring tune in the whole show into its most beautiful song? No idea, but here we are again.

Another performance I really liked was Anna-Hanna Rosengren as Fantine.

I haven't seen a Fantine quite like this before: young, shy and withdrawn, but with a lot of fire under the surface, ready to flash out. And her voice! I Dreamed a Dream is easily the most overdone song of the musical, being covered left and right, but I got chills listening to Rosengren. (By the way! You can listen to her, and the others, in this Facebook video from the musical's press conference. The picture is sideways at first, but don't let that bother you, they sound great nevertheless.)

I really love how this production has Fantine and Cosette sharing a couple of little moments. They don't meet physically, but there's for example this moment during Castle on a Cloud where little Cosette and Fantine, now a spirit in the afterlife, sing the She says, Cosette, I love you very much line together. Maybe I'm becoming a big softy, but now, it made me even more emotional than last year.

Other than these three... Well, that'll have to wait until me and my friends go back to Sweden in December. I think I need another round of this before stating any opinions about the other characters. I only have two eyes and one brain, so I sadly cannot both stare at my favourites with unwavering attention and focus on everybody else all at once! Next time, I shall try to pay a little more attention to Enjolras & co.

But all in all, you know what? I love musicals, I love Les Mis, and sometimes life is very very good.

Photos by Lars Kroon.