CHESS at the Princess of Wales. May include SPOILERS.
Despite a score by ABBA's Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus (and lyrics by Tim Rice), with hook-laden melodies that spawned pop hits, the show has historically been beset by book problems.
While the idea is interesting--American and Russian chess champions square off in the midst of the Cold War--the show doesn't know whose story it's telling. Does the show belong to the arrogant American, Freddie, who bizarrely transitions from chess master to TV commentator? Or does it belong to his 'second,' the dedicated Hungarian Florence who, fed up with Freddie's antics, falls for his stolid (and married) opponent, Anatoly. Or does the show belong to Anatoly, who defeats the American, defects to the West, abandons his wife and children, only to later abandon Florence and return to Russia? Or is it about the intrigue of East-West relations, which, well, who cares? In the end it's hard to care about anyone or anything in this show, which is best left as a concert production, I think.
As for the merits of this production, well, it feels like both cheesy Eurotrash and community theatre. For a West End-bound production, the staging is disappointingly amateurish, employing only one simple static set, insipid and blurry video projections and uninspired lighting. The costumed ensemble (We Will Rock You meets Priscilla) does triple duty as actors, dancers and orchestra--sometimes playing their instruments while lying on the stage (not attractive).
The leads have decent voices, but there was nothing compelling about any of them. James Fox's Pity The Child and the duet between Shona White and Rebecca Lock, I Know Him So Well, were the standout performances. Tam Mutu's Anatoly was perhaps the most compelling character, ably acted and sung, but he looked more Spanish (Javier Bardem-meets-Antonio Banderas) than Russian, and he didn't employ the same Russian accent that his wife, Svetlana (Rebecca Lock), or Russian heavy (in both senses of the word) Molokov. David Erik's Arbiter was a sometime narrator and trumpet player (seriously), dressed inappropriately for a chess referee in a black leather trench coat and bare chest.
All this brings us to the director and choreographer Craig Revel Horwood. He is a well-known TV personality in the UK, a judge on Strictly Come Dancing. He has trashed-up an otherwise serious musical with orts and gimmicks from other shows and appears to be working with a limited budget. All this makes me wonder why Mirvish would import this production, which was best left in the UK, where it was touring the hinterlands. Toronto audiences deserve better.
Coach Bob knew it all along: you've got to get obsessed and stay obsessed. You have to keep passing the open windows. (John Irving, The Hotel New Hampshire)
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