The last time I reviewed Nigel Lindsay,
a momentary brainstorm led me to call him Nigel Harman. I have since
lived in dread of such an occasion as this, when both would share a
stage. This time, though, even I can tell them apart: one (Lindsay in
the title role) is big, green and trumpet-eared, the other (Harman as
Lord Farquaad) shuffles around on his knees in best Jose Ferrer
fashion, whilst appearing improbably gymnastic with the little
trompe-l’oeil legs affixed before him.
David
Lindsay-Abaire’s script includes most of the best lines and gags from
the Dreamworks screenplay, with some canny omissions (adieu, Monsieur
Hood) and questionable additions (of which more later). The result is
even more knowing than the film (in one musical number, the exiled
Fairytale Creatures rally around their collective “Freak Flag” on which
is blazoned a parody of the
Les Mis
waif), but with enough fun and naughtiness to keep kids entranced and
so cover the entire family waterfront. It is, as my companion observed,
not unlike pantomime in that respect, but a panto with immense
production values including a dragon that flies in over the heads of
the audience.
Lindsay rollicks and
rumbles with brio (and, on his first entrance, looks uncannily like
John Prescott). As his talking donkey sidekick, Richard Blackwood makes
all the right moves (including stooping slightly so he doesn’t look
taller than Shrek), but often cannot help reining himself in as if
afraid to look a prat; it’s noticeable that during his big soul number
Blackwood gives his all, because here Donkey is indisputably
cool.
As Princess Fiona, Amanda Holden shows impressive acting, singing and
dancing skills but, whether through stage make-up or treatment, wears
the mask-like face more usually seen on (most) American actresses of a
certain age.
To replace the sourced
songs used in the film, Jeanine Tesori’s score is for the most part
bouncy pop/rock or genre pastiche, although Act One finale “Who I’d
Be”, being seriously emotional, veers into mandatory
contemporary-American-stage-musical idiom. Elsewhere, though, the
schmaltz wells up. Shrek is given an abandoned-by-parents backstory to
match the Princess’s so that they are truly kindred spirits, and the
climactic revolt against Farquaad is now augmented by an uprising among
the fairytale folk, singing proudly, “Whatever makes us different makes
us strong”. That a work so smart and self-aware could descend into such
a gloop of vapid affirmation-by-numbers is infuriating, and for me
ruins the close of what is otherwise a bright, zippy, fun evening.
Written for the Financial
Times.