Trafalgar Theatre
210 years ago Jane Austen published Emma.180 years later in classic 90s fashion it was America-fied into the film Clueless, and a mere 30 years after it has leaped genre once again on stage in another brat-turned-benevolent-branching.
Now I have had my fair share of eighties/nighties remembrance recently. In the last year, I have seen beloved films known for their style, sex appeal and subtlety grind themselves onto the stage with precious little left of their original qualities. Pretty Woman and Cruel Intentions and not personally sampled but The Devil Wears Prada and Mean Girls can be added to this dubious list. Heathers success at The Other Palace can be blamed for kickstarting this whole rather cynical monetisation of the beloved films of millennials. However, it can be forgiven having won our hearts and minds and a fair few awards in the process.
When done right the musicalisation of cult films pump new life into a cherished story, delighting original fans, winning new ones and making everyone rich in the process. when done badly…well keep reading.
The plot (if the full 420 years of the tale’s history has passed you by) follows a spoilt and wilful heiress Emma/Cher in England and LA respectively. She battles society, her friends and her ward Mr Knightly or stepbrother Josh in the film. Her match-making and opinionated nature is humbled and personal growth and happiness follow. It is the most acerbic of Austen’s novels and a personal favourite. Amy Heckerling’s film is a masterful adaptation, capturing this while adding some turn fantastic turn of phrase and Mona May’s costumes informed and shaped the decade that we can’t seem to get away from. Gowabunga indeed!
So in theory a musical with singer-songwriter KT Tunstall behind the notes and industry legend Glenn Slater on the words should been Da Bomb (sorry I’ll stop). But sadly the songs are forgettable if period appropriate and the lyrics a jumble of 90s slang with little charm or perseverance. Visually there is much missing. Paloma Young’s costumes are not the chic wonders of the film (somewhat understandable considering budget discrepancies). But the famous Calvin Klein dress of Cher’s prom has been rhinestoned and corseted resembling nothing of the famously minimal designer. Makeup is overdone and skirts and tops fit badly, what would Miss May say?
Rachel Kavanaugh’s directing pushes the actors to such extremes that the whole affair feels like the film after a hefty line of speed. The characters become cartoonish and outlandish, and despite wonderful musical abilities we are so in dreamland that it’s hard to connect with anyone.
Some of the comedy survives the bumpy transition but that’s just down the the original script’s well known lines. Like with Cruel Intentions the choice to fill out one of the film’s failings, its joke at the expense of the gay character is an improvement. Isaac J Lewis as Christian is fleshed out and fabulous, coming out and becoming a gal pal for Cher. Keelan McAuley as Josh and Romona Lewis-Malley as Tai equally grasp at moments of reality amidst the eye-white intensity.
The production feels cynical and soulless, without the sparks that have made both the book and film such a delight. Giving nothing new and losing things in the process maybe 420 years is as far as this tale can go, is it time for Emma/Cher to go outie? (last one I swear!)
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