Sunny Afternoon (Hampstead Theatre)
Verdict: Ray of sunshine
Rating: 5 Star Rating
After an indifferent year for new musical
shows in London, here is a belter.
Hampstead Theatre, run by Sir Peter
Hall’s son Edward, has come up with a Joe Penhall bio-musical about The Kinks.
Funny, stylish, well-performed, quirky —
it has everything The Kinks had.
Younger
readers (and maybe one or two ancients) will say: the who? To which the answer
is, not The Who, silly, The Kinks!
Led by Ray Davies, they were the Sixties London group that came up with songs such as You Really Got Me, Waterloo Sunset, Lola and the closing, title song of this production, Sunny Afternoon.
When I
moved to Kentucky in 1980, The Kinks were bigger than The Beatles. Yet for some
reason — management rip-offs, a lack of nous, a refusal to compromise
artistically — they were never as commercially successful as the Fab Four in
the Sixties.
They
also fell out with the trade unions in the U.S. Much of America, therefore, did
not discover them until the late Seventies.
This
show is far better than a mere tribute evening, though it includes lots of
Kinks hits. It gives you a strong sense of period — some terrific short
hemlines on the girls — yet also well-drawn characters that evolve with the
band.
John
Dagleish is exceptionally good in the central role. That is not to say that he
is exceptionally like the real Ray Davies. His singing voice is not quite the
same and he looks different. His achievement is to make us buy the idea of
Davies as an unusual, brooding creator, the off-beat, stammering Muswell Hill
lad who found he was best able to express himself on a guitar.
Mr
Dagleish is tall with a long brow and a low head of curls. He cuts a peculiarly
English figure and has stage magnetism which outweighs any vocal shortcomings
he might have.
George
Maguire is suitably manic as Ray’s brother and bandmate Dave. Ned Derrington
plays shy bass guitarist Pete, and Adam Sopp wears an heroically bad wig to
play drummer Mick. A live band at the back of the stage helps the cast perform
the songs. Mr Sopp is ace with the sticks, it has to be said.
We
follow the boys from the brink of their discovery in 1964 through various
travails for the next 15 years or so. In the first half, the stage backdrop is
covered in amplifiers — it is like being in a vast recording studio. Then comes
their first visit to America and the back wall is covered in the Stars and
Stripes. I almost wrote that the acting is much better than it needs to be, but
that perhaps says it all about many recent tribute shows.
One
reason this evening works so well is that writer Penhall takes care to slow
things down, insert quips and spend time on Ray’s marriage to Rasa (Lillie
Flynn). A transatlantic telephone-call love duet between them is a lovely
moment.
The
pride of Ray’s father (Philip Bird) in his sons is also touchingly done. We see agents ripping off the band terribly.
Dominic Tighe and Tam Williams are perfectly cast as the band’s original,
genial, English-toff representatives. Less savoury fixers follow. Eventually,
the English gents decently resign from managing the band. Cue an acapella version of Days.
I sloped
off just as the auditorium’s numerous 60-year-olds were starting to dance to
Lola. What a great show.
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