Chess på svenska

Please note: Svenska Teatern invited me to see their production of Chess for free.

This is the autumn many Finnish musical fans have been waiting for! Finally, we have Finland's very first staged production of Chess the musical – the matter-of-factly called Chess på svenska ("Chess in Swedish"), produced by Svenska Teatern, Finland's Swedish-speaking national stage.

Alexander Lycke as Anatoly and Maria Ylipää as Florence

Chess is an 80s musical by Tim Rice, Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus. It uses a world championship game of chess as a metaphor for Cold War, which, in turn, it contrasts with romantic relationships. It's one of those musicals the creative team cannot stop tweaking. There have been at least four different major editions of the script since the 1986 premiere, so going in, you never quite know who's winning and who's losing... The script Svenska Teatern uses was adapted by Lars Rudolfsson and premiered in Stockholm in 2002, and in Helsinki, it's directed by Maria Sid.

I'll admit it right away that when it comes to the plot (or plots) of this musical, I'm no expert. I know the basics – it's the US versus USSR... – but I don't have a grasp of the variations of each specific version. To be quite honest, I've always found the synopses for most versions, with their secret agents and murky politic deals, a bit too complicated and dense for my tastes.

Chess på svenska takes things to the other extreme. This version is not about politics at all. Instead, it's a tragic little love triangle with some international intrigue as a backdrop, taking place within the span of only four days. American chess champion Freddie and his second Florence are a couple and the Russian champion Anatoly has his wife Svetlana waiting for him back in Moscow, but things take quite a turn when Florence and Anatoly meet each other...

I'm not saying focusing on the romance is necessarily a bad thing. I've said it before that I'm not into romance at all unless everyone involved gets their heart broken by the end, so this is actually right up my alley!

I think Chess på svenska is a lovely, very bittersweet love story. I'm a big fan of the movie Titanic, and this story is rather similar. An unlikely couple only gets to spend a few days together, but that's enough for them to fall in love, and then a cruel twist of fate tears them apart.

The chess tournament, taking place in a remote Italian town, is a liminal space of sorts. For four consecutive days, the characters are removed from their everyday realities and brought to a faraway place where, for a brief moment, it seems like anything can happen. The characters don't get happy endings, but the experience forces them to see their whole life from a different perspective and to take a different path than the one they've been following previously.

I think that's a very interesting scenario. The rushed love story in Chess hardly feels realistic, but at the same time, who's to say it couldn't happen?

Chess på svenska is way too heavy on ballads (there's like five of them in a row in the second act) and it sort of feels like they've included some of the most famous songs because they're so famous you cannot not include them (neither Anthem nor I Know Him So Well feel all that plot-relevant here, really). Maybe some other edition of the script would have a smoother flow and be more interesting to watch.

But for what it is, this version of Chess is musical theatre of the very first class.

Silva Lillrank as the Arbiter

I'll list my favourite things about this production at the end of this post, but first, I want to talk about gender for a while. One of the selling points of this production, you see, is that the role of the Arbiter is played by a woman, Silva Lillrank.

I've always loved the character of the Arbiter, the no-nonsense referee of the chess championship. I like characters like that, ones that you don't really get a hold of. Being a chess arbiter must be the least exciting job imaginable, and yet, this character sings one of the catchiest and most upbeat songs in the whole show. He (or she, or they?) arrives from out of the blue, lays down the law and soon finds out no one listened – there's no character arc or resolution, but the song kicks butt and gives the audience a nice breather before the intense chess match.

Over the years, the Arbiter has been interpreted in countless weird ways, including a bearded space warrior and a pair of twins. Considering that, it's more sad than anything that a woman playing the role in a major production is still newsworthy in 2018... The important thing, though, is that Lillrank is fantastic in the role. The Arbiter's song (here, sung and performed all by women) is one of the highlights of the whole production. I can't help it, it feels so good seeing fellow women taking on a leading position onstage and delivering a kickass song!

In an interview with Musikaalimatkassa, the musical podcast I co-host (in Finnish), director Maria Sid mentions that she thought about making one of the chess players a woman too. Ultimately, she decided that since it's the first time Chess has ever been staged in Finland, she doesn't yet want to change too much. I hope someday, someone does. I think any of these characters could be any of us, and therefore they could be of any gender, too. I believe it would give the story an interesting spin if it were, say, Avrora Sergievskaya falling in love with Florence...

And now, the highlights list.

• There's not a single detail here that hasn't been thoroughly thought out by director Maria Sid. You might not agree with all of her choices, but you can feel she has a well-founded reason for each one.
• Maria Ylipää as Florence, period. First and foremost, this production is Florence's story, and Ylipää's performance feels so natural. She quite simply fits the role perfectly.
• Anthem, sung by Alexander Lycke (a long-time favourite of mine, of Les Mis and Jesus Christ Superstar fame). Heck, I don't care if the song's a bit shoehorned in here – this is such a powerful rendition it already made me tear up during an open rehearsal the theatre hosted before the premiere. This can't be done any better.
• I feel for Freddie, performed by Glenn Edell! He's very fun to watch, until suddenly, he's very much not. A tough, annoying guy who's secretly all sad inside, what's not to like?
• Johanna Ström (Svetlana) has such a gorgeous voice, I really can't describe it. Shame Svetlana is such a small role!
  
• The second act features some really beautiful choreography for Florence and Anatoly. I'm no expert when it comes to dancing, but Carl Knif's whole choreography feels very well-thought-out and fresh.
• Overall, it's a really, really beautiful production. If the ballads sometimes feel a bit too much, you can always zone out and simply enjoy the visuals for a moment.
• The music, the music, the music!! Music-wise, Chess has always been one of my top three favourite musicals. I can't get enough of the tunes (seriously – listening to a Chess cast recording as I write these very words), and I'm sure I'll be seeing the show again and again just to enjoy them. It's all sung and played so well and the acoustics and sound system in Svenska Teatern compliment it perfectly, it's heaven in my ears.
• I like how all the characters feel very three-dimensional and, for a lack of a better word, adult. I think that makes the love stories more interesting. No fairytale musical romances like Cosette and Marius's or Christine and Raoul's here! Instead, you have dark undertones and a big range of emotions, I love that.

All in all, it's been a long while since I last felt this excited, this good about a Finnish musical production. Long live well-crafted musical theatre!

Photos by Cata Portin.
P.S. Ny Tid's Janne Wass said it all so much better than I ever could. Read his thorough review (in Swedish).

The Book of Mormon, Det Ny Teater

Seems like all musicals I've seen lately deal with religious themes. After Godspell, Jesus Christ Superstar and The Prince of Egypt, last Saturday, it was time for the Danish production of The Book of Mormon in Copenhagen's Det Ny Teater.

Of course, compared with the rest of that lot, the satirical and parodical Book of Mormon is a different thing entirely. Lately, this story of two clueless Mormon missionaries in Uganda has sneakily become one of my favourite musicals – I thought I didn't much like it, but somehow, I've still seen it in three different countries during the last year alone.

Let's see how the Danish production fares.

In all honesty, I'm still confused Det Ny Teater's production, directed by Kasper Holten. It had plenty of moments I enjoyed, but somehow, I'm still baffled by it. So, to clear my mind, maybe I'll start off simply by listing some details.

Things I enjoyed:

• Price's moves! Silas Holst is a professional dancer, and that shows. His footwork during All-American Prophet is a joy to watch.
• All of the Ugandans have plenty of personality, more than in any other production I've seen. Their costumes by Stefen Aarfing are also nice.
• Mafala (Robert Bengtsson) and Nabulungi (Lea Thiim Harder) have a very sweet father-daughter relationship.
• The General's understudy was on, so Joseph Smith was played by a lady in Joseph Smith American Moses.
• The Mission President's long, long silence after the Ugandans finish their play. Hilarious.
• The orchestration and the orchestra, conducted by Per Engström. Top notch! There are many new, fun little details in the orhcestrations (and the variation in the volume is a welcome change after seeing and hearing the 120-dB-at-all-times Swedish production).

Things I didn't enjoy:

• The sets and the video projections. To my tastes, the sets by Stefen Aarfing are a bit too sparse and sleek, and together with the naivistic video projections, they create an odd combo. 
• Carsten Svendsen's Cunningham is too clean-cut. By looks alone, were it not for the glasses, you could mistake him for Price.
• Spooky Mormon Hell Dream. They have a really impressive-looking laser show on a dark stage that almost makes the scene feel scary for real – but that's hardly the point.
• Nabulungi is not happy after her babtism. I think it's way funnier if they, uh, reach the climax of being babtized together.
• Cutting Nabulungi's sad Hasa Diga Eebowai reprise.

So, plenty of good and some confusion. In the end, I think the problem is not in the details – it's that the overall tone of the production feels a little bit too realistic for my tastes.

The direction of this production is more drama-like than usually. Both Price and especially Cunningham feel really easily relatable, the stereotypical aspects of both leads and the Ugandans are somewhat toned down and certain serious moments are more serious than ever. That, in turn, makes the moments of bad taste seem ever worse and the underlying severity of the whole story feel a bit too real. While it's nice they're trying something new with the material, I'm afraid that for me, it's not really working.

A fellow blogger has a good point when they say this production hasn't quite found the right balance in between originality and the original story. Check out their analysis. I agree with them, I think some scenes have a slight reinventing-the-wheel vibe going on.

This is exemplified by the scene where the General shoves the titular book up Price's behind. They tear his pants down, lube the book and make it exceedingly clear what is going to happen next. It's certainly daring and shocking to show it, but when you stage the scene like that, the reveal of the x-ray is not as suprising and therefore doesn't elicit such a huge response.

Ultimately, I'd like to quote The Simpsons: still funny, but not ha-ha funny. 

This production of The Book of Mormon is entertaining and every aspect of it is professionally done, but somehow, it's not quite the a-laugh-a-minute musical I know and enjoy. I've seen The Book of Mormon in all Scandinavian countries now, and in Sweden and Norway, the audience literally screamed with laughter. Here, the audience reactions were more subdued. Just like the production itself.

Glad I saw it once, but wouldn't necessarily go for seconds.

Photos by Miklos Szabo.

The Prince of Egypt, Fredericia Teater

Please note: Fredericia Teater invited me to see their production of The Prince of Egypt for free.

I would have wanted to love this musical.

Dreamworks' 1998 animated movie The Prince of Egypt is one of my top favourite animations, even top favourite movies, of all time. It retells the Biblical story of Moses, combining intense music with beautiful visuals to such an effect I cannot watch it without crying.

So, hearing the world premiere of a musical based on the movie was going to take place in Fredericia Teater, Denmark (the very same theatre that brought us that amazing production of Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame), as an American/Danish co-production – well, you try not getting excited. I attended the opening night last Friday.

I would have loved to like it, but I have to be honest. It was a complete mess.

The story of the Dreamworks picture (directed by Brenda Chapman, Steve Hickner and Simon Wells, screenplay by Philip LaZebnik and Nicholas Meyer, songs by Stephen Schwartz and score by Hans Zimmer) is based on the Book of Exodus and can be summarised in a couple of short sentences: Moses and Ramses are brothers. God gives Moses a difficult task. The brothers turn into enemies.

The movie starts off with the following disclaimer: While artistic and historical license has been taken, we believe this film is true to the essence, values and integrity of a story that is a cornerstone of faith for millions of people worldwide.

The new musical is written by LaZebnik too, but instead of respectfully expanding upon the movie while keeping in mind the story's Abrahamic origins, it serves us an unfocused, childish jumble of new characters, scenes, and motivations. The subtlety, beauty and indeed integrity of the original film is thrown out of the window. Instead, we get less-than-memorable new tunes from Schwartz, cringeworthy jokes and an ending so naïve and sappy it puts all Disney fairytales to shame.

Let me walk you through this.

The first act is not without its problems, but, in the grand scheme of things, it's quite serviceable. You have baby Moses in the basket on the river, Moses and Ramses growing up together, their father the Pharaoh raising his boys with an iron fist and insisting that crown prince Ramses shall not be the weak link to break the chain of their mighty dynasty. You have Moses killing a guard, running away to the desert and meeting his destiny.

It's not perfect but leaves you curious for the second act – which is where all hope is lost.

Where shall I start? Should I first tell you about the comic relief-y song about slavery, or maybe the evil high priest who keeps pressuring Ramses into making bad decisions? Or about Moses's first miracle being, instead of his staff turning into a snake, him stumbling into the Nile and accidentally turning the water into blood? Or how, in the end, Moses and Ramses make amends and the force ghost of their father the Pharaoh comes back to bless their brotherly union?

I am serious with this.

Some more details before delving into further analysis. Tzipporah tells Moses and Ramses she is not going to dance for them, while sexily dancing. Moses doesn't help Tzipporah escape, he barely lets her out of her chains so she can dance better. Moses only stops the guard beating the slaves when he starts hitting his sister Miriam too. Moses and Tzipporah flirt while watching sheep mating. Ramses and Moses make sexist jokes about their wives. Moses visits his ailing adoptive mother, who scolds him about sending the plagues upon Egypt. The burning bush scene lasts for about 30 seconds. The ghost of the Pharaoh teaches Moses that sometimes you just have to kill a bunch of babies to make things work.

Besides the complete lack of focus, the musical has a really vague, disappointing relationship with God, morality and the supernatural.

No matter whether you're a believer or not, if you're adapting the story of Moses, you have to accept that God is going to be one of your major characters. Or so you would think. Here, blink and you miss the burning bush – it doesn't get its own scene, it's seriously a sidetrack in the first act finale – and even the miracles Moses performs are glanced over. All the moral lessons are heavy-handed, and instead of Ramses making his own bad decisions, a moustache-twirling high priest keeps pulling the strings and promptly gets killed off for his evil deeds.

I understand turning a 90-minute-movie into a musical requires changing things and adding new material, but for the life of me, I cannot understand why all subtlety, respect and trust in the audience's capability to think for themselves has to be lost in the process. In the musical, they would have had a fantastic chance of exploring things like Ramses coming to terms with his own mortality (all his life, he's been told he's a living god, but then his brother lines up with a deity more powerful than him) or, say, the relationship in between Moses and his biological siblings.

But what do we get?

Force ghost Pharaoh and the power of love, that's what.

Fredericia Teater's production, directed by Scott Schwartz, has its bright moments – above all else, Sean Cheesman's innovative, beautiful choreography and the vocals of leading man Diluckshan Jeyaratnam.

Cheesman's choreography and the talented dancers are the true stars of the show, I only wish there was even more space for dance. The dancers form the river, the horses and chariots, the desert sand, the burning bush... There are also some more traditional but nevertheless impressive dance breaks. Through Heaven's Eyes is absolutely wild.

When it comes to the actors' performances, besides admiring Jeyaratnam's vocal chops, I was entertained by Mads M. Nielsen's performance as Pharaoh Seti. He chews the scenery, shouts and yells and looms around, it's all rather hammy and very amusing. For the most part, though, the performances felt rather one-note to me. Maybe that's because the characters are written as such, or maybe I'm just not the biggest fan of Scott Schwartz's style of directing, seeing I wasn't too hot on his Hunchback, either.

The visuals are hit-and-miss. The minimalistic sets by Kevin Depinet and the digital scenography by Jakob Bønsdorff Eriksen are pretty. The costume design by the Tony-winning designer Ann Hould-Ward, however, looks cheap and weird and honestly ugly, not quite modern but definitively not period either.

The physical production would be all right, though, were it not for the mess of a script and lackluster songs. You cannot mask such fundamental problems, no matter how high your production values are.

How I wish this musical would have been worth seeing.

The Prince of Egypt is a gorgeous movie. The good thing is that no matter what the musical is like, no one's going to take that away from me, I can still enjoy the film whenever I want to. But I know how eagerly the musical fandom has been looking forward to the musical adaptation, and I think it's a huge shame this is how it turned out to be.

I suppose they're still testing the musical out in Denmark and, hopefully, are making changes to it before trying to produce it anywhere else. They have to do a lot, a lot, to make this work, but I wish they'll go to the trouble.

Both the movie and the age-old story of Moses deserve a way better musical adaptation.

Photos by Søren Malmose.
Also read The San Francisco Chronicle's review of the Californian run of this international production – not much was fixed in between that and the Danish run, it seems like.

P.S. About the songs from the original movie: they're still absolutely gorgeous, even if all that remains of Playing with the Big Boys is the intro and The Plagues has been combined with another, inferior tune. The former I could forgive, but the latter... If you've ever heard the song, I'm sure you understand why I cannot.
P.P.S. The crossing of the Red Sea was done by splitting the orchestra stalls in two. Sorta impressive.

Early 2018 Recap

I'm still alive!

From the first days of 2018, I've been really busy with many new projects (first and foremost the musical podcast I co-host, listen to our playlist of interviews in English here), so though I've missed writing, I haven't had enough time to blog in the past months.

I have, however, had time for theatre – so here are three mini-sized reviews of productions I've seen as of late.

A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder, Oscarsteatern

Sara Jangfeldt and Andreas T Olsson. Photo by Mats Bäcker.

First, a macabre little romp to get this year going!

A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder tells the story of a man who finds out he's a distant relative of a rich aristocratic family. Soon, he figures out that the only way he's ever going to inherit the family fortune is to murder his newfound relatives in increasingly imaginative ways...

Henrik Dorsin, who plays the D'Ysquith family (all the relatives meeting their end, that is), is advertised as the big star of the newest Swedish production. He is funny in his multitude of roles – but my personal favourites are Andreas T Olsson and Sara Jangfeldt as the murderous gentleman Monty Navarro and his feisty sweetheart Sibella. You know how you sometimes take a liking to an actor immediately, how your gaze is drawn to them and just watching them onstage makes you happy? Both Olsson and Jangfeldt had that effect on me.

I have to mention that I'm not too enamored by the portrayal of women in this musical. The cheerfully self-centered and calculating Sibella is fun, but her counterpart Phoebe, who's sweet and kind and only wants to marry for love... yawn.

Overall, though, I like the characters and the story. The tunes are not especially catchy, but the lyrics are witty, and many scenes made me laugh out loud.

Sometimes, a light-hearted tale of murder is just what you need. A fun, yet not all that memorable experience.

Godspell, Tampereen Työväen Teatteri

Please note: I was invited to see this production for free because we made a podcast episode partially about it.

In the middle, Sonja Pajunoja as Jesus. Photo by Kari Sunnari.

I knew nothing of Godspell beforehand except for that it's composed by Stephen Schwartz and about Jesus. Turns out, it's a full-blown concept musical based on the teachings of Jesus Christ. Parables of Jesus and praise of God via vaudeville-ish song and dance numbers.

Man, the 70s gave us some pretty odd musicals.

It took me a while to warm up to this. To me, the concept feels like a Christian youth club on steroids – Christianity is cool, y'all!! For someone like me, who's always felt averse of organized religion, it felt a bit too revival-meeting-like to have all that energetic gospel with hardly any criticism mixed in. Or maybe it's just too American for my tastes, praising God out in the open like that. In Finland, religion is generally a much more private matter.

But as the show went on, I did warm up to it. Sonja Pajunoja is a charismatic Jesus, kind and loving yet firm when the situation calls for it. The whole ensemble, from Tampere University of Applied Science's Music Academy, is bursting with talent and energy. Not to mention the super catchy music.

So, Godspell. A little awkward, but in a really cheerful way.

Jesus Christ Superstar in Concert, Åbo Svenska Teater

Please note: I was invited to see this production for free because we made a podcast episode partially about it.

Listen to Alexander Lycke sing Gethsemane.

Godspell might have been a bit too much for me, but for my tastes, Jesus Christ Superstar has just the right mix of religious themes and cynicism. It is one of my top five favourite musicals. The last time we had it in Finland, I saw it eight times in ten weeks and it was a cathartic experience every time.

I haven't seen JCS since those eight times... until this March, that is. A couple of weeks ago, I had the pleasure of seeing a touring concert production, performed by the Swedish rock band Astrakhan, helmed by Alexander Lycke as Jesus and featuring Mats Levén as Judas.

I just read an interesting analysis on Jesus Christ Superstar by a fellow blogger. It discusses how JCS feels stuck in the 90s because composer Andrew Lloyd Webber uses his veto power to stop major productions reinventing the material in any substantial way. Am I glad I live north enough that ALW doesn't seem to care what's going on here!

This concert had many of the elements the productions criticized in the analysis don't – namely, truely unique rock/progressive/whatever-you'd-call-that arrangements (here's how Astrakhan defines its music: "With love for hardrock and hatred of the genres conventions and standardization") and impressive, improvised solos (a full-blown drum solo in JCS, how about that). The production had a rather simple rock concert aesthetic with some striking projections, and despite being a concert first and a musical second, the story still snuck up on you.

Fully staged productions of JCS are their own thing, but when it comes to concert editions, this was as good as it gets. It's like the music was meant to be played like this, with a small band and a loud volume. It was mesmerizing.

Some of the news outlets that covered the concert mentioned that it could become an Easter tradition. I truely hope so. I would love to experience this again.

P.S. Listen to our podcast interview (in English) with the leads of Godspell and Jesus Christ Superstar!

Nordic Reviews: Les Mis in Oslo

This autumn in Oslo's Folketeateret, Scenekvelder has put together a memorable production of Les Misérables.

At surface, it seems like a well-made if not very imaginative production of good ol' Les Mis: the music sounds good and all the leading actors have beautiful voices, there are big emotions and lots of people onstage, the sets are grand and the costumes suitably ragged.

Under the surface, it's actually the oddest and most unfocused production of Les Mis I've ever seen.

Let's take a look.

André Søfteland as Jean Valjean and Hans Marius Hoff Mittet as Javert

The new Norwegian production of Les Mis is directed by Per-Olav Sørensen. According to his bio in the souvenir programme, he has directed plenty of theatre, films and TV. No mention of any further stage musicals, though, and maybe it's no wonder – seeing this show, it feels like mega musicals might not be his best genre.

First of all, the pacing of this production is strikingly slow. The music is in a way slower tempo than we're used to in contemporary productions of Les Mis. Everyone also takes their sweet time getting from place A to place B. For example, you know how Enjolras usually rushes onstage in One Day More, giving an energetic, dynamic impression? Here, he calmly walks to take his place downstage. There are many scenes where the pace is similarly sluggish, though the music and lyrics suggest fast action.

Considering that, it's odd how all the way through, the direction is really, really afraid of giving anyone any quiet time alone.

There's some unnecessary action going on during every other iconic solo of the show: Fantine changes into her prostitute costume in the middle of I Dreamed a Dream, Valjean gathers up firearms while singing Bring Him Home... It's as if the production doesn't really trust the source material, thinking people will get bored unless multiple things happen simultaneously all the time.

The production has a huge ensemble and they're onstage a lot. Sometimes they simply hang out in the background while someone else sings a solo or a duet. That's really odd. It feels like they're breaking some unwritten rule of musical theatre.

Usually, if there are others onstage during a solo, they're either a) listening to what the character has to say, like the Argentinians in Don't Cry for Me, Argentina from Evita, b) are meant to signify something, like when Les Amis appear during Empty Chairs at Empty Tables as a visual representation of Marius's memories, or c) are backup dancers.

But when you have, say, beggars sitting on street corners while Javert sings his heart out in Stars... What is their purpose in the scene? Do they relate to Javert somehow? Do they hear what he says, and if so, why don't they seem to care? Or the nuns that appear in Confrontation, calmly wrapping Fantine's body in a sheet while Jean Valjean and Javert yell at each other – why don't they do something to stop the fight, or at least act scared or annoyed?

Why can't the main characters have these moments alone?

Hans Marius Hoff Mittet as Javert and Haddy Njie as Fantine

In general, I think the production's biggest issue is the lack of focus. Some productions have a way of leading the audience's gaze to the right spot and the right character in every scene. Here, so much is happening you don't know where to watch.

In the souvenir programme, director Sørensen boasts that they have almost twice as many people onstage as an average production of Les Mis. He thinks it makes the whole thing more impressive. I disagree. Maybe, if the director had some good use for the extra ensemble, it really would be striking – but as is, it seems they're there just for grandness' sake. Not impressed.

Granted, Folketeateret has a huge stage, both wide and deep, and I'm sure it has been a big challenge coming up with ways to fill the space. I have a feeling, though, that both sets (design by Petr Hlousek) and lighting (design by Reidar Andreas Richardsen) could have been used a bit more effectively to divide the big space into smaller compartments. The lighting design is actually sort of disappointing – with lots of hard edges and cold tones, I think it would seem more at home in some small-scale onstage adaptation of a Nordic noir novel.

On the right, Karin Park as Fantine

In his essay in the souvenir programme, director Sørensen says this production is all about realism. The thing is, I don't think Les Misérables is meant to be a realistic musical. To function as it should, I believe it requires a dash of melodrama, a touch of something grand and noble.

In most productions, the way the characters' deaths are handled underlines the romantic undertone of the story. If the deaths are all majestic, like the iconic tableau of Enjolras lying on the barricade, it does not feel out of place when the characters rise from the dead in the musical's finale. But here, the whole epilogue is like from some other musical. After they unceremoniously roll Fantine into a sheet and dump Éponine in a sewer, it does not seem right they come back to welcome Valjean into the afterlife.

This production is strongly reminiscent of the 2012 movie adaptation of Les Mis, both visually (the costume design by Oddfrid Ropstad especially) and direction-wise. I get the feeling Sørensen has watched the Tom Hooper film one time too many and tried bringing its brand of gritty realism onstage, without stopping to think whether the style Hooper chose actually benefits the source material or not.
 
Don't get me wrong, the direction is not all bad. There are many good little details – like Cosette recognising the Thénardiers in the wedding – but sadly, it's the weird moments that stick out.

I'm not going to make a full list, but here are three details that I found the silliest: Javert, who otherwise seems like a calm dude, straight up punches Jean Valjean not once but twice; Valjean reveals his true identity in the court by taking off his wig (must be hard being the only bald guy in all of France); in Paris, Marius follows Cosette around from one poor person to next and they end up wiping the same beggar's face.

As far as I can tell, the cast is all good, it's just that oftentimes the directional decisions distracted me from focusing on the performances themselves. I wish I could tell you what André Søfteland's Valjean is like, but I really had a hard time concentrating on him with so many other weird things happening and so many other people onstage.

I did like Javert, though.

I got the vibe I would absolutely adore Hans Marius Hoff Mittet's portrayal of the character in some other production, or even here, if I got to see him again from the front row instead of the balcony. He had a nice undertone of calmness and introspection going on. That's something you don't see all that often these days, with so many overstatedly angry Javerts out there. Both Hoff Mittet's voice and his performance reminded me of the Finnish Sören Lillkung, a longtime favourite Javert of mine. So thumbs up!

Andreas Hoff as Enjolras

Besides Javert, there is an another, more surprising upside to this.

To me, the most interesting thing in the whole show was the relationship in between the revolutionary Enjolras (played by Andreas Hoff) and the revolution's token sceptic Grantaire (Lasse Vermeli). In Hugo's original novel, many interpret Grantaire being unrequitedly in love with Enjolras, but here, the feelings are mutual.

It's a thing in the Les Mis fandom, wanting to see these two characters together. This production got the memo.

In the first act, Enjolras uses a lot of time convincing Grantaire the revolution's worth joining – most notably singing his whole verse in One Day More to Grantaire and Grantaire alone. At the same time, he teaches him how to shoot a gun, in the romantic comedy trope sort of way. You know, standing unnecessarily close to him, gently taking his hands to correct the way he holds the weapon. This goes on throughout the song.

In the second act, they fight, they make up, they hold hands. When the barricade is about to fall, Enjolras bids Grantaire the most heartbreaking farewell in musical history by taking his hands and kissing them. Ah, my heart, this is worse than Titanic! Then, in the finale, Grantaire rushes to join Enjolras, and the two of them once again stand side by side in the afterlife. Good for them, and good for Grantaire especially. It must be hard being in love with someone who clearly loves you back, but loves the revolution even more.

But all that said... Well, being a fan, I enjoyed seeing Enjolras and Grantaire's romance flourish onstage, it certainly made the production more fun to watch. At the same time, though, I think it stripped Enjolras of the role he's supposed to play. He's not onstage a lot, he only has a couple of scenes to convince the people of Paris (and also the audience) that the revolution is worth dying for. How can he do that when they make him spend most of his time telling his sceptic boyfriend it'll be nice dying together? They're a cute couple, but seriously, that's not what Enjolras is supposed to be doing.

Lasse Vermeli as Grantaire

In short, I suppose if you've never seen Les Mis before, this production works okay.

The show looks good and sounds good, the iconic songs are of course all there, you get a grasp of what the story's about. If you're a big fan of Les Misérables the movie, you'll probably like this too, it's so obviously inspired by Tom Hooper's vision. The whole thing is very big and grandiose, if that's your thing. But if you're like me and know the original stage musical by heart, I'm certain you'll be struck by the weird pacing and the absurdity of the details.

I'm glad I got to see this production once, but at the same time, I'm glad I don't have to see it ever again.

Photos by Fredrik Arff.

IKEA! IKEA! IKEA!

Please note: Wasa Teater invited me to see this musical for free because it'll be featured in the Finnish musical podcast Musikaalimatkassa that I co-host.

Wasa Teater's Ingvar! – en musikalisk möbelsaga is an odd musical.

It's a sung-through musical about the furniture chain IKEA and its founder Ingvar Kamprad. Instead of painting a realistic picture of its titular character, though, Ingvar! turns the man into a myth and presents him as the messiah of the religion called capitalism. All this is told via cheerful folksy music – in Swedish, of course.

I loved it.

Ingvar! is composed by Erik Gedeon, with lyrics by Klas Abrahamsson. It premiered in Hamburg in 2009 ("Das Wunder von Schweden, eine musikalische Möbelsaga"). It debuted in Sweden in 2010, and since, it's been popping up in theatres all around the Swedish-speaking corner of the world.

In Finland, Ingvar! has been performed in Helsinki (Svenska Teatern, 2016) before. In September 2017, it premiered in Wasa Teater in Vaasa, directed by Markus Virta.

Me and my friend met up with actors Anna-Maria Hallgarn and Erik-André Hvidsten before the show to record an interview for our musical podcast Musikaalimatkassa (here's a link to the interview in English and the full episode in Finnish). Among other things, we talked about how reserved Finnish theatre audiences can be: someone might think a play is the funniest thing they've ever seen, but if everyone else in the audience is quiet, they don't dare to laugh out loud.

Ridiculous, isn't it? Well, sure enough, watching Ingvar! in Wasa Teater, I noticed I was acting exactly like that stereotypical Finn, stifling my laughter because no one around me was laughing. Remembering the conversation, I can't help wondering if all the people around me were doing the same...

I mean to say that Ingvar! is hilarious.

It's so funny. Something about the contrast in between the catchy music, the subject matter – the birth of a multinational furniture mammoth – and the lyrics – ranging from awkward praise of the Swedish countryside to songs about revenue and exploiting foreign workforce – got me. It's a weird combo, but really delightful at that.

Ingvar! presents Ingvar Kamprad's life story like a twisted version of The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck. From the moment he is born, little Ingvar's family starts teaching him in the ways of capitalism. And sure enough, he grows up to be a first-grade capitalist, one who swears by moderate pay but also moderate living.

As the show progresses, the story of our hero gradually turns into mythos. Ingvar is loved and lauded as a genius, then crucified (quite literally!) for being a Nazi symphatizer and heaven knows what else, but not even death can quite hold him back. By the end of the story, the fictional Ingvar is completely divorced from reality. For starters, the real Kamprad is still alive...

The show also recounts the beginnings of IKEA. I've never really thought about IKEA having an origin story.

I'm young enough to feel like the stores have always excisted here in Finland, it's simply the way everyday furniture shopping is done. It's fun how Ingvar! makes you think about the concept. Picking your items from a warehouse all by yourself and everything in the store from the colours of the building to the menu of the restaurant proudly oozing Swedish vibes seems normal since we're used to it, but indeed, someone's had to come up with those ideas – and at first, they might have seemed weird to others.

The musical is in Swedish, but the theatre offers subtitles in Finnish and English. That's good. After watching Les Misérables in Swedish for around 20 times, I'm getting a good grasp of standard musical vocabulary – you know, love this and revolution that... But here, with lyrics about bank balance and salaries, it's good to have a translation at hand.

The musical has a cast of eight: Johan Aspelin, Anna-Maria Hallgarn, Erik-André Hvidsten, Saara Lehtonen, Thomas Lundin, Richard Mitts, Tove Qvickström and Maria Udd.

Hvidsten portrays the titular character from cradle to grave. The others act like a Greek choir of sorts. They're relatives, employees, pieces of furniture (!), praising Ingvar one minute and bashing him the next. The cast doubles as the orchestra. They're a multitalented group, playing everything from violin and guitar to accordion and reed organ.

The cast sounds fantastic together, both the vocals and the instrumentals. This musical is a joy to listen to. It also looks like they're having fun onstage – so it's easy to have fun in the audience, too.

If anything, I'm sorry I didn't see the first Finnish production of Ingvar! in Helsinki. But better late than never. Watching this musical was way more fun than any shopping trip to IKEA ever could be.

Photos by Frank A. Unger.

Jekyll & Hyde in Salon Teatteri

Please note: I saw Salon Teatteri's production on Jekyll & Hyde for free in exchange of writing an article about the musical's history for the production's souvenir programme. If you visit Salo this fall, go to the theatre and buy ten of those.

We're so lucky here in Finland!

During the last four years, we've had not one, not two, but now three fine productions of the musical Jekyll & Hyde, all within a 300 km radius. Sure, I doubt that most people see this as an especially exciting series of events – but for me, a borderline obsessive Jekyll & Hyde fan, it's a huge thrill.

So let's see what Salon Teatteri's autumn 2017 production has to offer.

Hyde, feeling alive

Salon Teatteri is an amateur theatre (did you know that the word amateur is originally French and means lover of? What a perfect word!) with a tiny performance space, so it's quite a feat they've staged a musical as big as this one. But no need to worry: it's an impressive show all the way through.

I was surprised to find out the small space actually works in the favour of the production. You can't help feeling tense when there's a murder taking place a couple of meters in front of you.

Pauliina Salonius's direction emphasises the dark and violent parts of the story. Hyde's mistreatment of Lucy and the murder at the end of the first act felt so close and personal I got a little knot in my stomach. I saw the show with lots of friends and I know some of them found the violence a bit too graphic. I see where they're coming from, the song Alive especially has some pretty gruesome moments. Personally, though, I think the mood is mostly intense in a good way.

The set design (by Riku Suvitie) features lots of mirrors and a laboratory that's situated on a sort of a loft. Throw that together with some stark lighting (by Timo A. Aalto) and lots of smoke and you get a deliciously creepy atmosphere. I also rather like the costumes (by Taija Jokilehto). It's nice how Emma gets to wear a sensible, black dress instead of the dainty feminine things so many productions give her. She looks almost uncomfortable in her fancy engagement party dress, and I think that makes sense – it is after all implied that neither Jekyll or Emma feel at home in the high society.

Another nice thing for me is that there are two Finnish translations of this musical, and in Salo, they're using the one that was also used in the first production of J&H I ever saw (by Tuomas Parkkinen, Jussi Vahvaselkä and Kristina Vahvaselkä). It's feels good, somehow, to hear those same lyrics and words again. I'm not claiming it's the best possible translation of the musical, but it's comfortably familiar.

Emma in the laboratory

In Salo, the musical's titular characters are played by Peter Nyberg. His Jekyll is short-tempered but seems genuinely excited about his experiment. His Hyde, then, is super sadistic, and Jekyll pretty much throws in the towel as soon as Hyde is let loose – he gets addicted to being Hyde fast. It becomes clear early that he's fighting a losing battle, whatever optimism he had in the first act is replaced with desperation. All in all, you can tell Nyberg has a good time playing the roles, and he sings the part just right.

I like how this production makes Jekyll rather young (Nyberg is born in 1993). Jekyll/Hyde is often played by men approaching middle age, and in the original novel, Jekyll is in his 50s. But, as we discussed with a friend afterwards, I think it makes more sense to make him younger in the musical. A middle-aged guy should have enough life experience to know better than to test the formula on himself. But if it's someone young and rash who probably got his doctorate two weeks ago... The whole affair suddely feels a bit more believable.

There are two alternating Lucys and Emmas in this production. I saw Rosita Ahlfors as Lucy and Laura Flemming as Emma. Ahlfors's Lucy feels very earnest and rather naïve. Therefore, she is an easy target for Hyde to channel all his destructive energy against, hurting her just as he wants. Maybe it's no wonder, since Flemming's Emma is level-headed with a calm precence. She seems like a person who will shut you up in a fight, but do it in such a gentle manner that you won't even get the satisfaction of getting a rise out of her. There is no way Jekyll – or Hyde, for that matter – could boss her around.

However, as I've mentioned before, my favourite character in this story is Jekyll's lawyer and best friend Utterson. Teemu Veikkolainen doesn't disappoint. From his first line, I knew I was going to enjoy the performance. He's pointedly calm and proper, in contrast to Jekyll's temper. He seems like someone you would trust in a tight spot, and with your legal documents, but there's also a dash of humour and a pinch of forbidden desires thrown in the mix. I like him!

The whole ensemble works well together. Aki-Matti Kallio's Simon Stride stuck out to me especially, he is a fun highlight. The production cuts some of the character's already meagre material, but Kallio's pompous Stride steals the show nevertheless.

Utterson and Hyde

All in all, I enjoyed this production a lot. It's not perfect (for example, the music – the orchestration is based on pre-recorded tracks that, in my opinion, are often way too slow. I simply prefer orchestrations with a faster tempo). But, as a whole, it's an entertaining, creepy-in-a-good-way show. I'm going back at least once.

Finland! Indeed, what a fantastic place for a Jekyll & Hyde fan to live.

Photos by Mika Nurmi / Studio X.
P.S. Suomenkieliset lukijat: tästä linkistä voitte kuunnella Musikaalimatkassa-podcastimme jakson, jossa Peter Nyberg kertoo roolityöstään. Ja lukekaa myös Teatterikärpäsen puraisuja -blogin arvostelu esityksestä!

Cats and The Last Ship in Finland

Today, short reviews of two new Finnish non-replica musical productions.

Cats, Tampereen Teatteri

 

Photo by Harri Hinkka.

This autumn, Andrew Lloyd Webber's Cats is back in Finland. It's been almost ten years since our last full-blown production of the musical, so I guess it's about time.

I was in the wrong mindset when I saw this musical. I had seen the mind-alteringly good opening night of the new Swedish production of Les Misérables a week before, and watching Cats, my mind kept wandering back to Jean Valjean, Fantine and Javert. Had I known Les Mis was coming up when I bought the Cats ticket, I would definitively chosen another date. But what can you do – when I found out, this season's Cats performances were already practically sold out anyway.

But yeah, about the show itself...

I was a bit surprised to see how closely director Georg Malvius's version of the musical resembles the original Trevor Nunn direction. There's only one major change: the show is set in motion when a rat (played by Risto Korhonen) goes to bed and dreams of a world filled with felines. The rat doesn't speak, but he takes part in scenes, observes the Jellicles and tries to get accepted into their tribe.

Other than that, apart from a couple of fun little details – like Bustopher Jones frequenting a different sort of gentlemen's club, complete with pole dancing tomcats – the show looks, sounds and feels pretty traditional. The colours of the costumes (designed by Tuomas Lampinen) are reminiscent of John Napier's original designs, and even the orchestration resembles the original cast recordings from the 80s.

That's not to say the production isn't nice to watch, quite the contrary. My personal favourite scenes were Growltiger's Last Stand and Skimbleshanks, the Railway Cat, both performed by Tero Harjunniemi (a former Valjean, another Les Mis reminder). The former is especially fun because Harjunniemi gets to show off his operatic training by singing an Italian aria with Helena Rängman's Lady Griddlebone.

But despite all the good things, in the end, I liked this production – well, well enough.

The cast is talented, well-trained, and they clearly enjoy what they're doing, and the show looks beautiful. Still, the performance didn't make me feel much. Maybe it was simply the previous week's Les Mis overload distracting me, or maybe I've outgrown Cats for good (it was my very first favourite musical after all, I listened to it so much in 2008 I'm kind of permanently fed up with it nowadays). Maybe both.

Recommended, even if I didn't really feel the magic myself this time.

 

 

The Last Ship / Viimeinen laiva, Turun kaupunginteatteri

Photo by Otto-Ville Väätäinen.

The Last Ship, or Viimeinen laiva in Finnish, is a musical with music and lyrics by Sting. It premiered in Chicago in 2014. After a three-month-long Broadway run (the musical's producers lost their entire $15 million investment), the show has now arrived to Europe. It had its European premiere in Finland, in Turun kaupunginteatteri this September.

The musical (book by John Logan and Brian Yorkey) tells the story of a man, Gideon Fletcher, who runs away from his hometown in his teens, comes back 15 years later and finds out everything has changed. While he's been sailing the seven seas, Gideon's old girlfriend has found herself a new man and the shipyard that's been the source of the town's livelihood has gone bankrupt. To fight off desperation, the unemployed shipbuilders decide to return to the shipyard, build one last ship and sail away together, while Gideon tries to win back the love of his ex-sweetheart.

I really don't know what to make of this story. It's an uncomfortable mix of realism and fantasy. It's too firmly grounded in the real world to feel like a fairytale. For example, it's explicitly set in Wallsend, Sting's own home town in England. On the other hand, it's also way too fairytale-like to feel real. For example... well, that whole shipbuilding business, really. A bunch of dudes building a ship to sail away towards new adventures, seriously?

I'm certain the titular ship and its maiden voyage are meant to symbolise something, but I don't know what. Freedom, maybe – but how would the shipbuilders running away from their problems solve anything, since it didn't work out for Gideon in the beginning? And what does that say about the characters who are left behind? Maybe the set design (by Jani Uljas) gives us a key to this mystery when, near the end of the show, the ship is represented by a close-to-lifesize cutout of RMS Titanic's propellers.

The love story is dull. Boy abandons girl, girl pines after boy, boy comes back and assumes he still has a claim to girl even though they haven't spoken to each other in 15 years and she's now with someone else. The musical does not pass the Bechdel test. I know that's common in musical theatre (some of my personal favourites don't pass it either), but times are changing. An original musical written in 2014 should know better.

All that said, I feel there's a compelling story hidden in here somewhere. Change, desperation, perseverance, lost love... these could be the elements of an interesting story. But as it is, it's just The Full Monty rehashed, this time with ships and clichéd romance.

Turun kaupunginteatteri's production of The Last Ship is beautifully staged and performed. I paid special attention to the orchestra, conducted by Markus Länne the night I saw the show – they sound fantastic, and the sound system is set up perfectly. You can hear each and every sound from the orchestra pit clearly and beautifully. I wouldn't mind the theatre staging an instrumental musical concert! The music's quite nice, too, though not especially memorable. I'm not a Sting fan, but the tunes are pleasant to listen to.

Too bad that the plot is what it is. No matter how talented the cast and the orchestra, how impressive the sound system and how handsome the visuals, it's simply not a musical for me.

P.S. Both Cats and The Last Ship have surtitles in English.

Les Misérables, Smålands Musik & Teater

It's good, getting your autumn started with some top-quality Les Mis!

A little over a week ago, me and two good friends of mine traveled to Jönköping, Sweden to see the opening night of Smålands Musik & Teater and Kulturhuset Spira's new production of Les Misérables. Apart from the leading actors, this production (directed by James Grieve) is essentially identical to Wermland Opera's 2016 production I saw twice last year. So if you want to read my general opinions, check out my first and second 2016 reviews. In them, I talk about the direction and the visuals, no need to repeat that here.

Instead, a couple of impressions about my favourite performances.

I already wrote about this a while ago: my number one reason to see this show, and the reason I convinced my friends to come with me, was that the leading role of Jean Valjean is played by Alexander Lycke. From 2010 to 2012, he played the same role in Åbo Svenska Teater here in Finland. I loved that production with all my heart, so of course I had to travel to see this one too.

This is just so special to me. The relationship in between me and Les Mis, if you can use that word to describe the bond in between a musical and a person, goes deeper than me just being a fan of the show. After seeing it live 30+ times, it still hits me harder than any other musical. The ÅST production is especially important to me since it marks something of a turning point in my life. So you can imagine how exciting it was seeing Lycke in the role again!

Even so, it's nice that instead of a walk down the memory lane, this is a different take with all sorts of different details. I think Lycke's portrayal of Valjean has grown lots and lots – he was certainly good the last time, no doubt about that, but the character feels even more 3D and well-rounded now. I guess I have grown and changed during the past six years, too, maybe I now look at the character in a different way myself too. So, it's a little bit more grown-up edition of the character for a little bit more grown-up me.

I already knew that this direction treats Valjean well, giving him space and depth. This time, I especially loved... no, scratch that, I was especially heartbroken to watch the character growing older during the course of the show. No overblown makeup, just some different wigs and very good acting.

Compared to Christer Nerfont, who I saw and loved in Wermland Opera's production, I really can't say whose acting I prefer. I think Lycke's Valjean is a bit more undemonstrative and guarded. Seems like this dude hardly admits his own feelings to himself, let alone others, until they become too much to bear and burst out in a series of wonderfully beautiful songs.

And about those, I've said it before and I'll say it again: no one sings the part better than Alex. I've nothing to add to that, that's just how it is.

If Jean Valjean was good, Javert wasn't half bad either.  

Philip Jalmelid is the only Wermland Opera lead to reprise his role in Smålands Musik & Teater's production. Back in Wermland Opera, I didn't really agree with all the details of his performance. While my personal interpretation of the character is still quite different from Jalmelid's, I appreciate how his Javert has calmed down since last year, become a little more restrained. The character feels a bit older and a bit more realistic now.

Though really, if you sing Stars as perfectly as Jalmelid does, I won't care if the rest of your performance is delivered via sock puppetry. Finding the right words to describe this rendition of Stars – my favourite Les Mis song! – is hard. Jalmelid's take was powerful in Karlstad already, but now, experienced from the front row...

It was like his voice filled every single square inch in the theatre, squeezing air out of my lungs and all wandering thoughts out of my mind. After the song, I was honestly a bit startled to hear my own voice: for a second there, I forgot all manners and just made the highest and loudest sound I possibly could. I needed to get all that excitement and emotion out of my system somehow.

If Stars was the highlight of the first act, Bring Him Home was easily the best part of the second half. I of course knew what was coming, I have heard that one from the front row a couple of times before, but still, it never fails to amaze me. How does Alex turn the most boring tune in the whole show into its most beautiful song? No idea, but here we are again.

Another performance I really liked was Anna-Hanna Rosengren as Fantine.

I haven't seen a Fantine quite like this before: young, shy and withdrawn, but with a lot of fire under the surface, ready to flash out. And her voice! I Dreamed a Dream is easily the most overdone song of the musical, being covered left and right, but I got chills listening to Rosengren. (By the way! You can listen to her, and the others, in this Facebook video from the musical's press conference. The picture is sideways at first, but don't let that bother you, they sound great nevertheless.)

I really love how this production has Fantine and Cosette sharing a couple of little moments. They don't meet physically, but there's for example this moment during Castle on a Cloud where little Cosette and Fantine, now a spirit in the afterlife, sing the She says, Cosette, I love you very much line together. Maybe I'm becoming a big softy, but now, it made me even more emotional than last year.

Other than these three... Well, that'll have to wait until me and my friends go back to Sweden in December. I think I need another round of this before stating any opinions about the other characters. I only have two eyes and one brain, so I sadly cannot both stare at my favourites with unwavering attention and focus on everybody else all at once! Next time, I shall try to pay a little more attention to Enjolras & co.

But all in all, you know what? I love musicals, I love Les Mis, and sometimes life is very very good.

Photos by Lars Kroon.

Klokkeren fra Notre Dame, again

Last weekend, it was finally time to relive the best theatrical performance I have ever seen.

If you haven't read my first review, I recommend you check that out before delving into this – and now, without further ado, let's tackle Fredericia Teater's Danish production of Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

I saw the production twice: on Friday and again on Sunday. I was in Copenhagen for the whole weekend, so in theory, I could have seen the show five times. I however reasoned that if the premiere hit me so hard I could only sleep for about two hours the night after, seeing the show without taking a full day's break in between would probably destroy me.

Friday night's performance was like I expected it would be, coming back to the show after the pure magic of the opening night. It's impossible to repeat a once-in-a-lifetime experience, as simple as that. My mood, and the whole audience's mood, felt calmer and quieter than how I remember the October premiere. I didn't want to strangle anyone during the intermission out of sheer excitement (maybe a good thing), but on the other hand, I got to really pay attention to details this time since I didn't feel like foaming at the mouth uncontrollably the whole time.

It was good, obviously way better than the vast majority of theatrical performances I've seen. Still, had I only seen the show again this once, I would be feeling way more melancholic and nostalgic for the opening night right now. It didn't feel as incredible as it did the first time, and though I knew to expect that, it was still a slightly melancholy feeling.

But then something happened when I came back on Sunday night. The energy and mood in the theatre was different, way more electrifying, though it's impossible to point out why.

Maybe it felt more exciting to me personally because I sat right next to the catwalk part of the stage, in the middle of all the action (Frollo's cape touched me not once but twice! I feel blessed... by the dark and creepy flames of hellfire, I guess). Or maybe something else was different? I really cannot tell. All I know is that there was magic in the air again.

Or maybe it's something to do with one's priorities... While Friday night was all about watching the show as a whole and analysing everything, I guess I can admit Sunday night was decidedly all about watching Frollo. Every second he's onstage and pretty much without blinking.

Look at him!

Archdeacon Claude Frollo, Quasimodo's adoptive father and the antagonist of the story, is one of my biggest favourite characters of all times.

He's a scary villain that does many sorts of disturbed things beyond all redemption – and still, still, I cannot help pitying him. All at once, he's far-fetched (he's so distraught about feeling unwanted sexual attraction that he figures he should literally burn the woman in question alive, with all manner of unnecessary dramatics included) and not all that unrealistic at all (an older white man in a position of power with racist and misogynist opinions). He has so many layers, with his relationships to his brother and Quasimodo and obviously Esmeralda, that he's endlessly interesting to think about.

Lucky me that Mads M. Nielsen's portrayal has absolutely everything I want to see in the character.

There's some good old-fashioned fun villain-ing around with a crazy glint in his eyes, just the right amount of chewing the scenery and even a couple of jokes (his ridiculous cape swish before talking to Esmeralda on the cathedral's roof got me both times). At the same time, he's very terrifying, and when it's needed, also very human. So even when he's at his worst, I cannot help feeling sorry for him – how much better it would be for all of them, Frollo included, if he only was capable of viewing both himself and everybody else in less black-and-white terms.

And then there's the voice.

And then there's the Hellfire scene.

Fredericia Teater's take on Frollo's big solo, Hellfire (during which Frollo comes to the conclusion that Esmeralda must either choose him or die) is quite simply the best thing I've ever seen in theatre. Ever. The music, the choir, the choreography, the digital scenography with the whole cathedral in flames... And, obviously, Nielsen's voice and stage presence. Unreal, I tell you.

I could feel this scene (and the second act finale, too) physically, notably raising my heart rate both times. Actually, to be absolutely and completely honest, I spent half of Sunday thinking soon I'll see Hellfire again with and The Hunchback of Notre Dame too as an afterthought.

All gushing aside, this is not to say that I don't love the whole cast. Seeing my favourite character played to such perfection was a special treat for me, but I'm quite certain you'd walk out just as ecstatic no matter who your favourite character is. It's an overused word, sure, but I mean exactly what I say when I say the casting of this musical is perfect.

I had great difficulty saying anything more than perfect perfect perfect after the opening night, and I'm afraid the problem persists – they're just so good, all of them, it somehow feels quite pointless trying to explain that further. Everything is as it should be. But here are some bullet points.

• One fascinating thing to watch is the relationship in between Frollo and Lars Mølsted's Quasimodo. In the beginning, there's definitely warmth in between them, moreso than they had in the Berlin production. Makes the ending about six times more powerful. Good heavens.
• Mølsted won a Singer of the Year award for this role, and hot damn, you don't need to wonder why. I think my favourite Quasimodo song was the gentle, hopeful Heaven's Light – the dreaminess and sweet optimism creates the perfect contrast for Hellfire that comes right after.
• For the summer run, Bjørg Gamst has taken over the role of Esmeralda. She's fantastic. Taking one look at her introductory dance, it's not hard to understand why all the guys are fascinated by her.
• This portrayal of Esmeralda's character is sweet and strong and above all so full of life. Kinda makes you wish that for one night only, they'd do the Disney movie ending for a change...
• Christian Lund's Phoebus is, as a friend put it, a good egg. I love his introductory song and the war flashback sequence especially. (He by the way looks a bit like a viking with the long blond hair, which is a bonus.)
• I had the luck of seeing two charismatic Clopins: principal Diluckshan Jeyaratnam and understudy Mads Æbeløe Nielsen. I mentioned it in my Berlin review already that I'm not really a fan of the musical version of the character, but these two make the most out of the part. Nielsen sported some pretty neat eye makeup in the role.
• The ensemble! In a show like this, with such a strong focus on choral music and the ensemble playing many different parts from Parisians to the statues of Notre Dame, you cannot overestimate the ensemble's importance – and they're... perfect perfect perfect, really.

I am so lucky to have encountered this production in the first place, and to have been able to see it not once but thrice.

There certainly are some problems in the musical's script (some things that bother me: the portrayal of the Romani characters is on the stereotypical side, the character of Clopin feels off since the musical takes away his function as the movie's sole narrator but doesn't really give him anything else important to do in exchange, the songs In a Place of Miracles and Someday are basically interchangeable). But when the production's this good... The problems are there, and really, I have a much clearer vision of the musical as a whole now than I did right after the premiere. Yet, at the same time, the good parts are so overwhelming that nothing else matters.

All of my three experiences were very different from each other. A part of me wishes I could keep watching the musical again and again until I can remember every single little detail by heart, but that's hardly realistic. So, I'm glad Sunday night's powerful performance will be my last memory of this production.

To be completely honest again, right now, I feel like I don't want to see any theatre ever again anymore. Other shows might be good, of course, but they're not this – and at the moment, no other thing feels nearly as interesting or exciting.

I know this feeling will fade away the next time I actually see some theatre. At the same time, I know this production will always stay in the back of my mind, as an example of how good theatre can be when it's at its very best.

My 11 flames of hellfire out of 10 rating stands.

Photos by Søren Malmose.

P.S. Three Frollo details I liked the most: 1) how he takes the cross off his neck before visiting Esmeralda in the jail 2) how you can kinda keep track of his mental state by checking out if his hair is neat or all messy 3) him breaking down next to Esmeralda's body.