Well, it already is - but we are enjoying the blogosphere so much we are like Duracell bunnies. 'Tis handy the clocks go back so we get fake long Sunday tomorrow. Yay!
We may run out of inspiration after this marathon, but for now our creative wings are a-flapping so we shall forge on with our whimsical tales of theatre visitation.
We thought about reviewing Flashdance first, but decided it might give us nightmares, so decided to stick to what we know & love dearly. Welders can wait.
Les Miserables.
Lovely, beautiful, epic, dark, depressing, passionate, soaring, inspirational, make-you-cry-Les-Mis.
Can you tell how much we adore it? We lovely ladies have dreamed many a dream on our own sitting on empty chairs at empty tables. We've heard the people sing the songs of angry men alongside the master of the house. Oh yes. Our hearts are full of love, for one day more, for this musical which, despite its subject matter, is the ultimate feel-good show. Considering only 4 cast members remain alive at the end of miz, this is quite remarkable. But the Miz is life-affirming stuff.
True, in terms of feelgood frolics it's no Mamma Mia (thankfully, ~ Tamsin left MM feeling depressed and bereft...and nobody even died, though Tamsin lost the will to live before the interval! ) but you come out of Les Mis feeling like a better human being for having seen it. Your fairies have had the privilege of seeing this remarkable show more times than we care to count the cost of, but most recently during the 25th anniversary celebrations; first at the Barbican, with the touring cast, then at the O2 with pretty much every other cast. The original London version at the Queens theatre is permanently etched in our hearts for so, so many reasons that if they ever need a couple of understudies one phone call would suffice; the day jobs would be history and the fairies fully fledged, full time miserables. Oh the joy.
Some people don't like this show, mad fools. They say it's depressing. Some say it makes a mockery of Hugo's epic 'brick'. What utter rubbish. So called purists can run and jump. We know what we like and we like what we do, and we haven't single handedly kept the show running in the West End for 25 years (we're not that old, dearies). So other people feel the love.
As time is ticking on and we're getting tired, a comparative study of Triple Misery may have to wait in favour of a dream casting which keeps us much happier at this time of the morning. Oooooh, so many options to consider, so many men, so little time. Not that we do these reviews or go to the theatre to ogle men. Shame on you for even thinking that.
So we have established we quite like the story. In addition, for now, we can tell you that the tunes are catchy and the stage rotates, which is always good. We like the beggars in the streets, Javert with his tall hat, lovely sideburns and sweeping coat and we like Fantine's hair pre-haircut. She should so grow it back in heaven (well done tour!!). But down to just a couple of specifics. We have seen a few Valjeans, Javerts and Enjolri, Eponines, Cosettes and Thernardiers (we don't talk about Marius because he's a wet blanket and we don't speak of Fantine because Susan Boyle has ruined the memory of her forever) and have come up with a wish list we would like Cameron Mackintosh to consider for the movie and the soundtrack, pretty please. we wouldn't be demanding royalties or anything, just a mention in the credits and a few walk on parts. So.
Jean Valjean. For the fairies this can only be one man. The original Rock Valjean, Drew Sarich. Now Drew is God. We love him. We do. No one hits the high notes in 'Bring him home' like Drew. No one looks as angry or as gentle or as commanding. No one. So what if he's American? Where does it say in the book that Valjean ISN'T American???? If it does, we don't care anyway. Besides, since leaving London Drew has done nothing but shit (trust us, we have the DVD of Rudolf...) and he's capable of so much more. We know. And he's pretty. Bring him home, we say.
Javert. Mumbly, pompous, speak-singing, can't-understand-him-but-we'll still -do-what-he-says-yes-sir Earl Carpenter. We love him too. We believe he currently holds corporate events as the Earl of Carpenter in his stately home Osbourne House on the Isle of Wight where he invited everyone, us included, for a picnic on his lawn in July 2009, as long as we didn't leave litter.
And we didn't. We did get drunk though and wet in the process, Such fun. Anyway, the good Earl of Carpenter made a saintly bishop at the O2 but needs to be back in his kinky boots standing on the bridge with his mad-hair-before-jumping. We love him (do you see a pattern forming?).
Fantine is obviously Lea Salonga. Who else is there who can sing like her, emote like her and make us blub continually into our chocolate bars throughout the first quarter of the show? Only her. End of. No arguments and there is no room for debate here. Our word is the law and the law is not mocked.
Thernardiers. Who cares? We've never seen a bad pairing as the part is a gift. And anyone who voluntarily looks that scabby for a show deserves a prize. However, if we do sit in the front row we prefer not to be there when Jimmy Johnstone is on as he spits a long way and we were wiping off his DNA from our faces long after the show ended. He is fabulous though. But a bit spitty.
Fanfare.
Enjolras.
Cue the angel music.It has to be the Lord of the Revolutionaries, the flaxen haired Adonis that is David Thaxton. Seeing is believing. Oh, we would run to war with him. We would. We would mop his brow and make him tea. Karina would even knit him a new vest. She would. No one dies quite like him, with such a flourish, hanging precariously from one pointy foot, having arranged his hair carefully prior to this (yes David, we have sat in the upper circle. We can see you). On a serious note he is an amazing singer, holds a note and just happens to be the prettiest of them all as well.
As a close second we have to give an honourable mention to Ramin Karimloo, as having seen him in the part at the O2 he was quite magnificent. Tamsin and Karina both dream of a dream team of David Thaxton, Ramin Karimloo and Drew Sarich as the three kind-of-tenors-though-they're-really-not, but you get our meaning. And not one of them is like fat Pav. The Three Enjolri? Are you listening Lord Earl of Carpenter??
Wet Marius. Bless him. He tries and his heart is in the right place. Obviously we can't have twinklesome Michael Ball anymore, as we suspect he would probably think himself the wrong age and the wrong shape for the role - not that the fairies are at all ageist or sizeist. We love Michael. We just think he's great as Edna and fabulous when doing what he does best. Show tunes in concert. So who to choose? We have harboured a secret hankering for a while now to see oh so gorgeous Lee Mead in this part, ever since his curly haired, eye brow wiggling ways on TV first alerted us to the fact he might be rather talented. And even a bit pretty. We saw him almost naked a few times as well. So we know that a woman, even one as pathetically dim as Cosette, can fall in love with him quite easily. He can sing nicely. And he'd look great in a frock coat and tight trousers. That's just our humble opinion. What else do you require from a Marius? It's Enjolras who's the guiding light, the veritable beacon, and the one everyone follows to death and certain destruction. Oops. Wrong section. We're back on Enjolras. Never mind. Anyway. Lee Mead would make us cry in 'Empty chairs at empty tables' and his voice is like chocolate. Any dream will do.
Eponine is a tricky one. Francis Ruffelle is too old. Nancy Sullivan is great but not the best singer. Cassie Compton is in Wicked. Bonnie Langford is too bouncy. And the wrong side of 20. Lets face it. The fairies can't think of any female performers to fit the bill perfectly but there must be somebody. We'll come back to it. And of course if any readers have any suggestions feel free to post them on a card to Fairyland. In these days of CGI, maybe Lea Salonga could do a Benjamin Button and play both parts? This would keep us content and smiley.
Out of all the Cosette's we like Katie Hall the best. She has a good voice and is the least irritating, which is what you want in a Cosette. Tabitha Webb did Cosette well at Earls karaoke picnic and deserves a mention.
As for Les Amis - a generic job description will suffice. They must be strapping, hard working, able to hold a tune and willing to go to certain death following the the direction of Enjolras's cheekbones (we still love him). They must look good in tricolour sashes, know how to handle rifles, march well on the spot and be able to hold their drink (with the exception of Grantaire who can be as pissed as a fart because he's loved regardless). Must be able to die in slow motion and look ghostly and accusing when required. Oh my friends, my friends. Just don't.
You see, Les Mis is an institution. A national treasure. A thing of joy.
Honourable mentions:
John Owen Jones as Welsh Valjean
Alfie Boe as Opera Valjean
Simon Bowman as poorly-sick Valjean
Hans-Peter Janssens as Nordic Javert ('Shtarsh, you are da shentinnnalsh...' Aaah we miss you!)
Gareth Gates as mobile Marius
Jon Robyns for services to a facially expressive Marius
Alistair Brammer for vibrato Marius
Jon Lee as S-Club Marius
John Joe Flynn for services to twirlyness as Montparnasse
and finally
Simon Shorten, known to the fairies as Sunday Valjean, who is fabulous and nearly as good as Drew Sarich. Just not quite, YET. But getting there!
And now the fairies would like to bid you all good night and leave you waiting with baited breath for the next installment.
When tomorrow comes.
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| Je ne regrette rien... |
Another dawn and all that bollocks.
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