Erin Harrington reviews Something Rotten! book by Karey Kirkpatrick and John O’Farrell, music and lyrics by Wayne Kirkpatrick and Karey Kirkpatrick, directed by Benjamin Kilby-Henson, with musical direction by Richard Marrett, at the Court Theatre, Saturday 25 November 2023.
The Court Theatre has a long tradition of presenting big budget summer musicals that seek to bring Broadway and the West End to local audiences, while showcasing the best of the city’s on- and off-stage talent. These are an annual, wonderfully populist highlight – programming that brings together everyone from those who might see a single show a year, to raving theatre nerds who will whisper the libretto along to themselves and return multiple times over.
This year’s offering is the southern hemisphere premiere of 2015 American musical Something Rotten!, a big and boisterous comic Shakespearean take on the ‘let’s make a musical’ meta-genre. We’re currently at an inflection point in the theatre’s 52-year history, as the organisation looks ahead to a long-awaited post-earthquake shift out of the ‘leaky boat’ of the Shed in Addington into new central city premises in the contentious Performing Arts Precinct, while seeking to rebuild internally after years of increasingly public dysfunction. A recent article in The Press peeking behind the scenes of the musical suggested overtly that this is a ‘make it or break it’ show for the organisation. It’s a good thing then that this production, directed boldly by Benjamin Kilby-Henson and MDed by Richard Marrett (in his 25th musical for the company!), and featuring vibrant choreography from Kira Josephson, showcases the absolute best of the company. Something Rotten! may be unfamiliar to audiences, but I hope that doesn’t stop people from seeing this spectacular, witty production – the biggest and possibly silliest choreographed musical the theatre has ever staged.
We’re in Elizabethan London, at the height of the English Renaissance, at a time when writers are the new rock stars. Top of the heap is Shakespeare. He’s a flirtatious dreamboat in tight leather trousers, played with a delicious Mick Jagger-esque swagger by Matu Ngaropo who spends as much time flirting with the crowd as with his screaming, swooning on-stage admirers. Hello handsome! Nick Bottom (Jono Martin, in peak form) and his younger, goofier brother, writer Nigel (Cameron Douglas, channelling Wayne’s World’s Garth to great effect), are trying to get some traction with their new play, Richard II, only to hear that Shakespeare has beaten them to it again. Tough times for the Bottom Brothers: Nick is sick of seeing the Bard, who he thinks is a hack, succeed by rapaciously pilfering ideas from everyone else (including Nigel), while Nick and his wife Bea (Monique Clementson) are destitute.
Driven a combination of desperation, ambition, and professional jealousy Nick decides to employ a soothsayer, Nostradamus (Paul Barrett, by way of Miracle Max), to see what the next big thing is, and to divine what Shakespeare’s greatest work will be – so that he can get there first. The answer: a musical! What? No-one is quite sure what that is, yet, although the production’s barnstorming full-company number “A Musical!” lays it out for us, reminding us of the wonder and weirdness of the form, as well as the pleasures of escapist entertainment. The show’s dense intertextuality is so packed with verbal gags and musical, theatrical in-jokes that anyone with passing familiarity with either the history of musical theatre or Shakespeare’s back catalogue (let alone the Court’s own production history) will be rewarded immensely.
As this new show is developed things get better for Nick, or worse, depending on how you feel about his increasingly bizarre interpretations of Nostradamus’s surprisingly accurate prognostications. Nigel, meanwhile, meets and falls in (star-cross’d) love with a Puritan woman, Portia (Bianca Paine, delightful), falls foul of Shakespeare’s machinations, and gets so fed up with Nick that the Bottom brothers hit rock bottom. Anything else is best left unsaid, as it’s better to experience the Nick’s final / wonderful / awful / pants-wettingly funny artistic ‘accomplishment’ (“Something Rotten” / “Make An Omelette”), and its fallout, without expectations.
Kilby-Henson’s whirlwind direction is supremely entertaining, teasing out gorgeous moments of nuance and giving the actors significant scope to work to their strengths. The show succeeds as both a spoof and a successful musical in its own right, although script-wise the second act is by far superior as many set ups and character choices start to pay off. Throughout, the 23-strong company are consistently excellent, especially during demanding, tap-heavy dance numbers. I love Cameron Clayton’s camp performance of Puritan Brother Jeremiah, whose religious crusades mask some deep repression, and Clementson’s joyful performance as Nick’s hypercompetent wife Bea, who comes to love (in true Shakespearean fashion) cross-dressing her way to success.
The show’s production design is sumptuous. Dan William’s innovative black and white set design combines the angular style of Elizabethan woodcuts with brash scribbles and splatters of ink. It’s a cleverly constructed, gag-filled pop-up (I see what you did there) storybook filled with an outrageous number of delightful props (Julian Southgate), many of which play with the design’s odd shifts in visual perspective. Spectacular transformations in set and lighting take place as musical fever takes hold, and the monochromatic spaces are lit in increasingly colourful and playful ways (Darren McKane). The show features hundreds of marvellously silly, brightly-coloured costume pieces that combine period with pop (Tina Hutchison-Thomas), and dozens of glorious wigs (Zoe Buckland), all creating a rich and vibrant world that leaps from the stage. The codpieces themselves are something else. Some great stunt costuming later in the show makes you wonder the point at which the costuming team went ‘we have to make what?’
A forever-gripe, though: at times vocal clarity is a problem, seemingly a combination of mic, speaker, and mixing issues. In some parts, especially during some of the show’s many fast-paced alliterative songs, it takes a lot of work to pull out the lyrics, especially for those (like my friend and I) seated up the walls right at the far edges of the seating bank where sight-lines are a little compromised and it’s hard to see performers’ faces clearly. I strongly advise sitting centrally if possible, if only to better appreciate the choreography. The show’s inclusion of a Mel Brooks-inflected Shylock, who becomes an enthusiastic theatre producer, is also quite uncomfortable in this present historical moment (through no fault of the performer Ben Freeth, whose performance of flamboyant theatre patron Lord Clapham is also a highlight).
There are a few notable choices in the framing of this production that indicate a palpable sense of excitement and optimism as the company looks ahead. The booking reminder email encourages people to dress up for a celebration. Opening night is packed out and treated like a proper gala with a red carpet, cute themed drinks on arrival, decorations, photos, and speeches, which I don’t recall happening before in such a sustained manner. There’s more going on post-show, too. The full-sized programme, properly chock full of advertisers for the first time in a while, offers more insight into the show’s production than usual and emphasises the production’s many ‘biggests’ and ‘firsts’. Speaking for myself, I love knowing how many hands have been on something, and what decisions have been made – namely, not just what the show is (especially in the case of musicals, as licensed products), but what the company itself, with all its unique strengths, has been supported to do with the material. The whole night’s buzzy.
Something Rotten! is a great reminder of the joy, and silliness, of musical theatre. The company’s creatives have really deserved a win for a while now, and it’s a genuine pleasure to say that this show hits the jackpot.
Something Rotten! plays at the Court Theatre until 27 January, 2024.
Flat City Field Notes 