The theatre, like life itself, is full of coincidences and chance meetings. Who could have planned it, for instance, that last week Zorro — based on Isabel Allende’s 2005 novel, and boasting her name above the title as one of the co-producers - should open the very night before Allende was also personally name-checked in The Female of the Species, and the audience even given a lesson in how to pronounce her name. “Dear girl, it’s ‘Ay-enday’,” says the writer character Margot (played by Eileen Atkins), correcting the student intruder Molly who had mispronounced it, and saying: “Nothing tells you more about a person than how you pronounce a writer’s name.”
Nothing tells you more about a playwright, either, than the kind of smug, easy literary put-downs that in Joanna Murray-Smith’s play have Margot and Allende apparently swapping quotes on each other’s book covers that declared each other a genius, but then Margot revoking her fictitious one here: Molly exclaims of Allende, “She’s fantastic!”; and Margot replies, “Marvellous, yes. Marvellously… marvellous. Full of… marvelosity. But if you ask me, no genius”. Mind you, who needs fellow writers to put you down when your involvement in a show like Zorro proves the case.
But to add injury to that self-imposed insult, Sunday Times critic Christopher Hart referred to Allende’s Zorro as a “children’s book” in his review of the show, which as fellow critic Rhoda Koenig points out to me, is a case of “critical accuracy but factual error.” As Rhoda puts it, “Of course, if you have read that tome, or tried to, his description has to be put in the category of ‘inadvertently accurate’. WHAT a heap of dreary rubbish that book is, an airport romance novel (for the VERY long-haul flight)”. Change a word or two and you could have a review of the show, too: a musical for a very long-haul evening (but which never takes flight, except when the title character ‘flies’ in from the upper circle).
Still, Allende is not the first author to personally oversee the transition of her own novel to the musical stage: back in 2000, Dana Broccoli - third and last wife of the late Bond movie mogul Albert ‘Cubby’ Broccoli - sunk some of the Bond millions into bringing her own little-known novel ‘Florinda’ to the stage as La Cava, for which she also provided the musical’s book. It ran for just two months at the Victoria Palace but then, in an act of weird theatrical confidence, promptly moved across town to the Piccadilly to stagger on for another five and a half months.
But back to Zorro in the coincidence stakes: I’m intrigued to see that there are two biographies for Emma Williams in the programme. One, of course, is the star of the show; the other is the associate costume designer, who has worked extensively for the RSC, National and Donmar Warehouse. I don’t think Emma the actress is multi-tasking; but you never know. When I interviewed her last year before Desperately Seeking Susan opened, she told me she was studying for an Open University degree, so she is obviously one to keep herself busy.
So, lately, have been a few of my critical colleagues. I know that we need to diversify - and get out more - if we are to survive, but I’ve been impressed by Michael Billington reporting on a Premier League darts final from Cardiff, Lyn Gardner assessing the recent performance in a Putney pulpit of gay American bishop Gene Robinson, and Kate Bassett writing about the Marks and Spencer’s AGM. Needless to say, each stresses the theatricality of the respective occasion.
Sky sports commentator Sid Waddell tells Billington that “darts is working-class theatre”, and Michael admiringly labels the event “a mixture of razzmatazz and expertise.” For Lyn Gardner, going back to church prompts a personal revelation: “I can trace my own devotion to theatre back to a childhood immersed in Catholic rite. Tonight, the only fire and brimstone comes from the audience when before Robinson has uttered more than a few words a long-haired, leather-clad young man in the audience rises to his feet and shrieks, ‘Repent! Repent!’ The shouts are drowned out as the congregation first slow handclap him and then rise to their feet and sing. Like a first-night audience at a West End musical, it is clear which side most of this audience is on. Critics are not welcome.” But as a theatre critic, Lyn can’t help reviewing the show: “The bishop is giving a remarkable performance, exquisitely supported by the rituals of the Anglican service and the plain beauty of St Mary’s church, Putney, where the main stage - sorry, altar - is framed by the natural backdrop of Putney bridge, so that God and everyday life are constantly rubbing shoulders. When the clergy first process into the church I’m irresistibly reminded of the stirring opening sequence in The Lion King. With his brightly coloured vestments, shining eyes and head slightly cocked, Robinson looks like a strange, exotic little bird.”
Finally, Kate Basssett reported from the Royal Festival Hall that “The stage looked something like a political rally crossed with the Last Supper, huge corporate logos towering over a long table. Actually, the main aim of the board, as they filed in to take their seats, was to make the event as undramatic as possible. This was about smart grey suits and dry statistics, projected graphs and bullet points. Several of the non-executives merely sat demurely throughout, like shop dummies. This was still a performance, though. The stage lighting subliminally encouraged calm and hope, a soft dawn-glow emanating from behind the table. And Sir Stuart looked impressively unruffled - an elegant éminence grise, impeccably dapper with smoothed-down hair.”
OK, OK, we get the point Mr Shenton - on the basis of this blog and your last rant just a few days ago, it is clear that you happened not to like "Zorro". And nor did your friend Rhoda (you've told us that twice too).
The main complaint in Ms Koenig's Independent review was that it was too noisy. Did she imagine that attending a musical of Zorro with music by the Gipsy Kings and flamenco dancing would have been akin to lying in a isolation tank listening to whale music? Now you tell us that she hated the book too. Perhaps, knowing she disliked the book and fancying a quiet night out, she could have predicted Zorro might not be the show for her. She could even have passed on her ticket to someone who might have enjoyed it.
See, it's FUNNY because "Emma" is a really uncommon first name, and "Williams" is an EVEN MORE uncommon last name! That makes the odds of two women being called "Emma Williams" ASTRONOMICAL! You see? You see?