You never know what to expect when watching a show that has been seen as controversial or offensive to sections of society. What was certainly unexpected about the opening of Jerry Springer – the Opera is that I could have been listening to a Chapel Choir singing the St. Matthew Passion; except the words were: “My mom used to be my Dad!”, “I was jilted by a lesbian dwarf”, and “I used to be a lap-dancing pre-operative transsexual!” The chorus were eye-catching, ear-catching (both lyrically and musically) and gave immaculate performances.
Indeed the entire show was littered with musical humour, including (but by no means limited to): a brilliant segue from a riff on The Producers to a dramatically apposite recollection of Don Giovanni; many examples of assured stylistic-pastiche; and possibly the longest and most beautiful setting of the word ‘fuck’ you’ll ever hear. Hilarious!
The first act presents a typical Jerry Springer show and very successfully draws the watchers onto the stage as part of the studio audience – be warned, you will be expected to participate! The characters’ foibles are not as shocking as previous reviews suggest, but are humorously presented using plenty of four-letter words. [If you are offended by the ‘f’ word give this one a miss.] The finale is the definition of bad taste with – amongst many other unexpected delights – a chorus of tap-dancing Ku Klux Klansmen.
The second act definitely marks a slow-down of pace and originality. Jerry is dragged down into hell (as are all good opera characters!) to settle the differences between God and the Devil under pain of … well perhaps some things are too explicit to write. O.K. I can see why indignant Christians picketed the New Theatre beforehand. As a Christian myself this cut a little close to the bone and isn't redeemed by the jokes which just aren’t as funny (it's been done better elsewhere!). Nevertheless the opera is designed to be controversial and can’t be accused of taking itself seriously.
Luckily the second act is saved by a finale of more tap-dancing, four letter words and other unspeakables. Rolf Saxon was an excellent Jerry, much because – like Jerry – he never takes centre stage but allows the foreground to be occupied by the victims. Dean Hussain is brilliant as the warm-up man/Satan and Helen Walsh in particular shone out of the high-quality soloists. If you like a thought-provoking evening with good music, voices, dancing and plenty of humour this is for you.
Indeed the entire show was littered with musical humour, including (but by no means limited to): a brilliant segue from a riff on The Producers to a dramatically apposite recollection of Don Giovanni; many examples of assured stylistic-pastiche; and possibly the longest and most beautiful setting of the word ‘fuck’ you’ll ever hear. Hilarious!
The first act presents a typical Jerry Springer show and very successfully draws the watchers onto the stage as part of the studio audience – be warned, you will be expected to participate! The characters’ foibles are not as shocking as previous reviews suggest, but are humorously presented using plenty of four-letter words. [If you are offended by the ‘f’ word give this one a miss.] The finale is the definition of bad taste with – amongst many other unexpected delights – a chorus of tap-dancing Ku Klux Klansmen.
The second act definitely marks a slow-down of pace and originality. Jerry is dragged down into hell (as are all good opera characters!) to settle the differences between God and the Devil under pain of … well perhaps some things are too explicit to write. O.K. I can see why indignant Christians picketed the New Theatre beforehand. As a Christian myself this cut a little close to the bone and isn't redeemed by the jokes which just aren’t as funny (it's been done better elsewhere!). Nevertheless the opera is designed to be controversial and can’t be accused of taking itself seriously.
Luckily the second act is saved by a finale of more tap-dancing, four letter words and other unspeakables. Rolf Saxon was an excellent Jerry, much because – like Jerry – he never takes centre stage but allows the foreground to be occupied by the victims. Dean Hussain is brilliant as the warm-up man/Satan and Helen Walsh in particular shone out of the high-quality soloists. If you like a thought-provoking evening with good music, voices, dancing and plenty of humour this is for you.