Review: DEVILISH, Landor Theatre, May 10 2016
It's almost 40 years since the BBC broadcast the Ripping Yarn, "Across The Andes By Frog", the story of a man who... well, you can see what he tried to do. Although that's a satire on the cliche of the Victorian gentleman explorer, I often think of it when sitting down to review a new musical. With so much that could go wrong and so much that must go right for theatrical alchemy to forge a golden hit from book, music and lyrics, who would possibly take on a gig like this in 2016?
So I admire Chris Burgess (book and lyrics), BB Cooper (music) and Marc Urquhart (director) who have brought Devilish to the Landor Theatre (until 29 May). There's a lot they get just right - the songs are poppy, with plenty of hooks in a Eurovisiony style, and tunes get a very decent dance routine from choreographer Adam Scown. Andy Collyer's musical arrangements inject a soupçon of swing and jazz to leaven the generally upbeat numbers. And the book is serviceable, though hardly original, with its misunderstood angel who fell to earth, its Mephistophelian TV executive cowelling away at his minions and the girl who stays true to her heart and still gets the guy. Nothing wrong with that - musical theatre isn't Chekhov after all.
But, and I hate to say this, too many of the cast just can't sing very well, even in as tight a space as the Landor Theatre. How I wished that they had passed the one microphone available between them - even if it would have been a bit "Hitman and Her", at least we'd have heard them.
The acting mixes high camp with over the top virtue and villainy in a tone we now recognise from adult pantos (though the show, to its credit, eschews the scenario's many opportunities for cheap gags). Alex Green looks a bit like the young Leonardo DiCaprio and spends most of his time with his shirt off (wise in the London heat, I'd say) as our innocent, corruptible angel. He gets good support from Victoria Hope, who does what she can with an underwritten role as his would-be girlfriend, Ruthie. Amongst the rest of the cast, Katie Ann Dolling burns with ambition to be a TV star and somehow bags an idealistic doctor, and Helen Ward-Jackson does some fine work in the background of many scenes, disapproving of the youngsters' antics.
This show is a pleasant diversion and deserves its slot on the London Fringe, but it could be so much more if the singing gave full value to the songs - at the moment, it I'm afraid that it doesn't.
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