The Apollo Theatre, New York, circa 1962. The rise of Motown and R&B sees the music industry brimming with possibility; the stuff that dreams are made on. Enter the Dreamettes, a plucky girl group from Chicago, Illinois with a song in their heart and stars in their eyes. When car salesman turned agent Curtis Taylor Jr. plucks Deena, Lorell and powerhouse vocalist Effie from obscurity at an amateur talent night, their meteoric rise to the top exposes them to the world of showbiz, with all its glitz, grime and grief.
Dreamgirls’ exploration of the cutthroat ruthlessness of the music scene still feels sadly contemporary. When Effie, despite being the most powerful vocalist of the three, is sidelined for the thinner and more commercially attractive Deena to play to broader (read: whiter) audiences, it triggers a rift that will follow the trio for nearly a decade. Especially in the context of our modern-day awareness of cultural appropriation, with white performers cherry-picking and assimilating aspects of black culture for the sake of marketability, Curtis’ strategy of watering down blackness to appeal to white demographics hits uncomfortably close to home.
Nicole Raquel Dennis is an absolute dynamo as Effie White. Her renditions of ‘And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going’ and ‘I am Changing’ brought the house down, with the perfect amount of variation between belts to communicate Effie’s vulnerability as much as her power. Effie is a complex character to bring to life, at once deeply sympathetic but often rash and inconsiderate of the people who care for her. Dennis nails that balance perfectly, making her growth throughout the production palpable. It seems as if whenever she’s onstage her castmates feed off the power she radiates, like one candle lighting another. Her duet with Deena in the second act is one of the most powerful in the show, their clear-as-a-bell harmony signaling their respective escapes from Curtis’ scheming.
Dom Hartley-Harris as Curtis is also a standout; the shift in his character as ambition overtakes him is deeply believable and at points rather uncomfortable to watch. His numbers with Deena, in particular ‘When I First Saw You’ and ‘Hard to Say Goodbye, My Love’, paint a deeply compelling portrait of a man who believes that possession and control is what love looks like.
Special mention too must be given to Brandon Lee Sears as snake-hipped, velvet-voiced lothario Jimmy Early, with who the Dreamettes begin their journey to stardom as backup singers. Sears truly commands the stage and has undoubtedly some of the best comic chops in the show. Even at his lowest ebb in his ill-fated performance of ‘The Rap’, he still oozes charisma, and it is tough to achieve that with your trousers round your ankles. Paige Peddie as Lorrell plays up the ditziness a little too heavily in the first act, but her self-assuredness in the second is a delightful payoff, and the back-and-forth between her and Sears is irresistible.
There are some weaker links: Shem Omari James as Effie’s brother CC has a stiltedness in his delivery that feels like more than a character choice. He delivers almost all of his lines in profile as though reluctant to acknowledge the audience is there. Natalie Kassanga as Deena likewise carries herself with poise and her singing is technically polished, but her stage presence is a tad less distinct than her costars, in a way that can’t entirely be diagnosed by the source material. That said, these shortcomings melt away during the main cast’s group numbers, which really give them the energy to thrive.
Nick Hatley’s sets alternate between minimal bars of bright coloured neon and dazzling set pieces strewn with streamers and halogen bulbs. Combined with his costume design, it stylishly highlights the purity of Effie’s sound in contrast to the newly-christened Dreams’ latter-year reliance on the bells and whistles of mainstream pop. The Dreams are swallowed by the glitter, where in Effie’s numbers, quite rightly, she is the only thing that sparkles. This is paired with superb choreography from the ensemble; the slick footwork and death-defying leaps that accompany ‘Step into the Bad Side’ will have your jaw on the floor.
Dreamgirls is a sparkling, celebratory romp, effortlessly balancing the sparkle and struggle of showbiz. It’s got guts, it’s got heart, and most important, it’s got a whole lot of soul.