Breakfast at Tiffany’s

For a good deal of the first act I couldn’t stop thinking about Christopher Isherwood’s I am a Camera/Cabaret/Sally Bowles: the story, told by a young man (and a writer), of a young woman, outrageous, quirky and charismatic, who exploits and enchants everyone she meets. Replace New York with Berlin and you could almost accuse Truman Capote of (alleged) plagiarism.

Breakfast (trh.co.uk)

(trh.co.uk)

I am a camera

(likesuccess.com)

Everyone knows the film of course, if only for Audrey Hepburn. The play is based more on the novella, a slightly darker tale, and all the more interesting for it. Played on the open stage at the Haymarket Theatre and starring Pixie Lott, who I’d vaguely heard of before as a pop singer, you might expect a full-blown musical, in which case you’d be disappointed as she only sings two and a half songs, one of which – People will say we’re in love – comes, weirdly, from another show altogether (Oklahoma, in case you were wondering).

It’s well produced and very well acted, in particular by Pixie Lott. She has all the charm and charisma (and ditziness) for the character of Holly Golightly (wonderful name) and holds the stage with supreme confidence, so it is all the more surprising to see she has had so little acting training. She is well supported, especially by Victor McGuire as the smitten barman and Matt Barber as the frustrated would-be lover.

Breakfast Matt Barber Trixie Lott

Matt Barber & Trixie Lott (lovetheatre.com)

But I couldn’t help wondering why: why anyone would choose such a slight show as a vehicle for a girl who’s made her name as a singer. It makes for a pleasant enough couple of hours, the direction (Nikolai Foster) is snappy and the dialogue slick and funny. Pixie Lott has a lovely voice, though her delivery is rather more 2016 than 1940something. Why not give her a proper musical to shine in?

Bad Jews

A problem for any playwright, or any writer, is how do you present an obnoxious character without making him or her obnoxious not just to the other characters on stage but to the audience as well?

Bad Jews (trh.co.uk)

(trh.co.uk)

Playwright Joshua Harman goes some way to solving this problem by making his play Bad Jews a comedy and the character of Daphna (Ailsa Joy) – Miss Obnoxious personified – ludicrously over the top. Her nemesis, cousin Liam (Ilan Goodman), comes close to matching her. Liam’s brother Jonah (Jos Slovick) goes to the opposite extreme by becoming Mr Passive. (You can’t really blame him.) The fourth member of the group, the ludicrously ditzy Melody (Antonia Kinlay), an outsider not just because she is not Jewish, or family, is only marginally less irritating than the other three.

Would you want to spend 100 minutes in this sort of company? I am in the minority I think by declaring No, actually, after half an hour of them I was ready to scream. I am aware this is exactly the playwright’s intention, and that is partly the problem. The play consists of one continuous row, first – and mostly one-sided – between Daphna and  Jonah and then between Daphna and Liam. The subject of the row is, basically, Jewishness, and who has the right to their recently deceased Grandfather’s heirloom, or ‘chai’, a gold necklace he concealed beneath his tongue throughout his two years in Auschwitz. Daphna, the ‘good Jew’, who plans to go to live in Israel when she’s graduated and join the army, thinks it should be hers. Liam, the ‘bad Jew’ – ie non-practising – who is actually in possession of it, wants to give it to his girlfriend Melody in place of a ring when he proposes to her.

I am not Jewish, and you don’t have to be to understand the issues – how important it is to keep the faith, or to feel free to ‘marry out’. I know this is a play, and a comedy, and I was aware last night the audience were laughing their socks off. My problem was the playwright, and his actors, were trying far too hard to make us laugh  – whether it is Liam being driven to a nervous breakdown by cousin Daphna or Melody, a failed opera singer, giving her rendition of ‘Summertime’. I would merrily have wrung the necks of all four of them, the sooner the better. And yes, I know, this was probably the playwright’s intention.

 Patsy Trench
29 February 2016