Erin Harrington reviews Strictly Ballroom The Musical, created by Baz Luhrmann, directed by Benjamin Kilby-Henson, with musical direction by Richard Marrett, at the Court Theatre, Saturday 23 November 2024.
Summer musical Strictly Ballroom is the Court Theatre’s final mainstage production before it shifts to its new central city premises. It’s designed (in every element of the word) to take full advantage of the capacities of the Shed before it’s shuttered. Benjamin Kilby-Henson’s production, musically directed by Richard Marrett and expertly choreographed by Kira Josephson and Jonny Williams, leans very heavily into the show’s physical comedy. It gets the strongest reactions from the warm opening night crowd when it embraces the contrast between the high glam, high stakes, and refined control of ballroom dancing, and all out prickly Aussie crassness.
Baz Luhrmann’s adaptation of his celebrated 1992 film is a love story, an immigrant story, an ugly duckling story, and a celebration of the way performance can channel and express passion like nothing else. Ballroom dancer Scott (Rania Potaka-Osbourne) has been working his whole life towards the Pan Pacific Championships. He feels restricted, and now that the prize is in sight he wants to dance his own steps, much to the horror of his mother Shirley (Jessie Lawrence), his flamboyant coach (and Shirley’s old dance partner) Les (Cameron Clayton), and the head of the dance federation Barry (Roy Snow). It’s a clash between rigid rules, differing dance traditions, the establishment, and innovation. Scott is disqualified from a competition for improvising, and then ditched by his dance partner Liz (Sophie Harris). Frumpy dance beginner Fran (Lucy Sutcliffe), the daughter of Spanish immigrants, convinces him to train with her instead. All those who have grown up with the film, shouting “I’m sick of dancing other people’s steps! I want to do my own steps!” at each other in a broad Aussie accent, will know what’s coming: rebellion, truth, secrets, big hair, the pasa doble, misunderstandings, sequins and ultimately true love.
The show’s emotional stakes should ground the show’s much goofier elements, such as Kristian Lavercombe’s delightfully garish competition host J.J., and Snow’s swaggering performance as boorish federation president Barry. It’s a careful negotiation between high and low that doesn’t always land, given the production’s skew towards caricature, but when it does it really works. Sophie Harris, as Scott’s old dance partner Liz, and Monique Clementson, as champion dancer Tina Sparkle, give particularly impressive and precisely pitched star performances that balance an authenticity of character with comic excess.
Some other relationships also foreground emotional truth, such as that of Fran and her loving Abuela, who is played with warmth and depth by Camila Leal Rossi. At the more stylised end, I thoroughly enjoyed the broad physicality and tortured vowels of Jessie Lawrence’s crowd-pleasing performance as Scott’s mother Shirley, which strongly channels the spirit of Kath Day-Knight. The shift in her relationship with put-upon husband Doug (Jonathan Martin) in the musical’s climax offers a welcome moment of vulnerability amongst the silliness. That said, even in the context of high camp and artifice, I found the production’s choice to cast performers who were too young for much older roles eroded the suspension of disbelief.
Luhrmann’s musical really doesn’t have the strongest music or lyrics; some of the original songs, and arrangements of pre-existing pop songs, are downright odd. The emphasis, instead, is on large scale glitz, glamour, kitsch, and pastiche. The production shines during high energy, slightly absurd full company numbers set within the dance competitions, such as “Open Latin Final – All Out War” and “Strictly Ballroom”, that give the larger company an opportunity to play. A thoughtfully staged visit to Fran’s immigrant Spanish family (“Paso Doble”, “Magnifico”) offsets the artifice of ballroom culture. These particularly showcase the demanding range of dance styles, and allow storytelling and relationship development to come forward through choreography. The curtain reprise of “Love is in the Air”, is also very effective – to me, the most heartfelt, sincere moment of the evening. I am frustrated by some muddiness in the sound mix, which at times seriously impacts the sound design, vocals, and legibility of the band. Already some voices sound tired. This is an element of the Shed that I certainly won’t miss.
Production design, as ever, is a highlight. Dan Williams’ set design frames the large stage with red and purple velvet curtains. Red panelling and vanity mirror lights gesture to Baz Luhrmann’s own lauded ‘red curtain’ aesthetic, as well as the red shipping containers of the box office and concession stand in the Court’s foyer. Wire mesh panels, decorated with graphic signs, provide appealing geometric lines that offset the softness of the costuming while reinforcing the rigidity of the ballroom dancers’ posture.
Strictly Ballroom showcases the Court’s strengths, especially when it comes to summer musicals: dynamic choreography; bold staging; a consistently strong company; effective and slightly silly costuming (Daniel Williams, Daniella Salazar); great wigs (Patrice Hammond) and make up (Jamie Boyd); playful, humorous performances; a sense of joy. By the end, though, I remain far from convinced that Scott and Fran are desperate to run off into the sequined sunset and / or into bed. This is a big problem for me, in terms of the show’s coherency and emotional arc, but your mileage may vary.
Nonetheless, the show is an appropriately cheerful send off as the Court Theatre looks to say goodbye to The Shed. It’s a lovely night: pink glittery ‘Tina Sparkle’ cocktails upon arrival, then rice bubble treats, savouries, and a cheese ball for after. At a time when everyone seems to be exhausted and overwhelmed, it’s satisfying to end with a diverting confection that looks playfully to the pop cultural past, while looking ahead to the company’s future.
Strictly Ballroom runs until 1 February 2025.
Flat City Field Notes 