SOHO CINDERS

SOHO CINDERS

Springers at the Cramphorn Theatre

14.11.17

Soho’s Old Compton Street has a chequered, sleazy history. Nowadays it’s best known for its gay bars, the Admiral Duncan, and the Prince Edward Theatre.

It provides the setting, and the opening number, for this Stiles and Drewe musical, very loosely based on the Cinderella story.

A flat brick wall, with Ian Myers and his band just visible over the top, with the Glam Amour strip club in front, and the Sit and Spin launderette trucked on and off stage centre.

The pre-show sees the street peopled with a “promiscuous pot-pourri”: cops and joggers, tourists and Mormons. There’s a hen-do, too [my second this week].

Justin Clarke’s engaging production, with choreography by Kat McKeon, has many inspired touches: the Spin number, the slomo movement for Gypsies of the Ether, the circling paparazzi vultures, the excellent chorus work in Who’s That Boy.

Some impressive performances, too. Kieran Young is the young man who goes to the [political fundraising] ball, and loses not a slipper but a smartphone – a nicely nuanced approach, and lovely vocal work, in his Glass Slippers solo, for instance.

Catherine Gregory makes the most of Sidesaddle – her rickshaw becomes the Coach – while Gareth Locke relishes the sexist Campaign Manager [a cheer from the audience when he got his just deserts] to James Prince, the personable ex-swimmer who hopes to be elected as London’s next mayor. Ben Miller catches the angst of the ambitious man who’s desperate to play it straight. His fiancée, who suffers more than anyone when it all goes wrong, is Amy Serin; she has a moving duet with Velcro, “fag hag to the West End”, Robbie’s best mate and confidante, beautifully captured by Mae Pettigrew.

Favourites with the crowd, though, as often in the panto, are the Ugly Sisters – Sophie Lines and Becky Watts. Shameless, homophobic, greedy for profit and celebrity, they light up the stage every time they appear, and certainly deserve their Fifteen Minutes big number.

A lectern narration is not the best dramatic device – even when given by Stephen Fry – and often seemed redundant in a fully staged production. The lyrics and the dialogue do not always live up to the music; Hard to Tell a witty exception.

The show was warmly received [at the Soho Theatre, round the corner on Dean Street, and no bigger than the Cramphorn] in 2012, but it has yet to break through into the mainstream. So we should be grateful to Springers for this opportunity to enjoy this edgy alternative fairy tale.

production photograph: Aaron Crowe