The Woman in White [Palace Theatre, London]
WARNING: This review almost certainly contains spoilers if you intend to see the show.
Though I’ve tried my best to avoid listening to the wonderful cast recording (which, incidentally, was recorded live on the opening night, a first I think in cast recordings) in the weeks leading up to seeing it today, it doesn’t change the fact that before I finally saw this show on stage, I knew the story backwards and forwards, I’d grown to love little quirks of the actors on the recording, and I’m pretty fickle about when shows don’t preserve the quirks I love when I’ve heard the cast recording prior to seeing it live (it’s a dumb thing to be fickle about, I know, but I stand by it).
Still, I’ve gotta say, this was vastly different from what I expected, and yet the same, and most if not all of my favourite little cast recording quirks remained intact. I was practically in heaven.
I’d heard about the set design but what I’d read was sort of cryptic. What I didn’t expect was the complete lack of sets. The whole thing is projected onto three moving background plates that turn on the rotating stage. The projections are weird, I don’t know if they’re CG, animation, photo montage, a combo of all three, but they’re damn beautiful. My only complaint (about the entire show, in fact) is that it’d be nice if the images had been clearer, but it must’ve been an ordeal to get them as clear as they were under the regular theatre lights. The costumes are real, of course, and there are key props brought in on scenes; a casino table, a billiards table, a bed, etc. Really it’s an extension of the style used in the latest production of “Tell Me on a Sunday”, which had projections on the three ‘walls’ of the stage. It works terrifically well, especially in the climactic scene.
Of the original cast on the recording, only one major performer wasn’t in the production I saw today, Michael Crawford (Edward Petherbridge was also replaced, I think, for this performance). Anthony Andrews, though, did an amazing job. He held the long note, he did the rat stunt (eventually … though I’m sure all three actors so far have had their problems; it’s a funny scene whatever happens though). There are moments when I wished Michael Crawford had been able to return; those dang quirks I mentioned earlier, I’m afraid. The thing is, having someone else in the role made me realise even more how great the written role is. Count Fosco is an amazing character, a dastardly, slimy being you love to hate. He holds a knife to the heroine’s throat before his grand exit, and it’s probably the most I’ve ever felt sorry for a character with a knife held to a pretty girl’s throat. His zest for life is so infectious, and compared to the real villain of the show, he’s so damn nice, you can’t help loving him despite his imperfections.
I’m really glad the three main female leads were still around from the original cast – Maria Friedman, Jill Paice, and Angela Christian are simply fantastic. I’ve officially become a fan of Maria Friedman (so I officially have a reason to buy the “Joseph” DVD, hehe); I think I must’ve been thinking of another actress each time I heard her name prior to this. She makes facial expressions to die for, she wails the greatest line in this whole show, twice (“I close my eyes / And I still see his face!” I’m getting choked up just writing that, I love how it has a different meaning each time). She has a Drew Barrymore-ish look about her, she doesn’t look 45 at all, it’s quite freaky. She’s a huge reason to see this show live. Angela Christian as Anne Catherick, the woman in white herself, is extraordinary, wailing too, ear-piercing, weirdly accented, she’s a real ghostly presence. And her similarity to Jill Paice is extraordinary, making that aspect of the story simply mesmerizing. The design cleverly introduces you early on to characters “walking out” of the projected background, and when Anne and Laura first meet, the light is low and for a moment you figure it’s a trick of the projection, and slowly the light gets brighter and finally they touch, it’s a miraculously simple moment.
That’s this show in a nutshell, miraculously simple. The story is so rock solid, and the staging so at once weird and perfect. Theatrically speaking, it’s both right and wrong, I think; projecting film is kind of wrong, I mean, it’s a movie, but the projections are limited to background scenery aside from one jaw-dropping moment (I was disappointed by the “Miss Saigon” helicopter, but this blew my mind and I’m not gonna mention it even though I warned of spoilers – I will say, though, that for a brief second I understood those people who ran screaming from the Lumiere brothers’ first public demonstration of cinema); but the lack of sets otherwise and the minimal use of props is absolutely perfect. Like I said, it’s completely not what I expected, but it’s probably the single production of any show I’ve seen that I’ll remember the most, every time I listen to the cast recording I’ll be able to see every moment so clearly.
The Palace Theatre is gorgeous, by the way, even when this show’s finished, which I’m sure won’t be for a long time, I recommend going there to see anything.
shocking addendum: I didn’t even mention Andrew Lloyd Webber’s score and David Zippel’s lyrics, lol. I kinda covered them in my review of the CD, I guess. But even on this umpteenth listen, I found new things in the show. There’s a beautiful line early on, from Anne, “You’ll be the lady of / Blackwater House / All the rooms filled with sorrow / The lake filled with teardrops,” which only makes complete sense when you know all the secrets of the story. There’s at least one string of three songs that of course work in the story, but also stand alone and you feel like you’re watching a “Greatest Hits of Lloyd Webber” thing, they’re that good (“Trying Not to Notice Him” / “I Believe My Heart” / “Lammastide”). Lloyd Webber reuses his themes, blending them, restating them, giving them new meaning, it’s really extraordinary, and it works just as well on the CD, just in case you’re unable to get to the theatre, I still urge you to listen to the cast recording.