Review: MATILDA on Broadway
I’m not a big theatre-goer. I’ve always been a film and telly man, mainly because of the accessibility, and fact it’s much easier on my pocket. I dabbled in amateur theatre for a decade, where I enjoyed the experience of “putting on a show” for paying customers, but I’ve never seen a play in London’s West End. Or elsewhere, come to think of it. Well, until my recent trip to New York, where I saw the musical Matilda on Broadway. That’s a great way to pop your professional theatre cherry, right?
The title of this post is a little misleading, sorry. The the urge to write doesn’t come from a desire to spread the word about Matilda. It debuted way back in 2010 here in the UK, and ends its successful three-year Broadway run on 1 January 2017. It’s “old news” in theatre-land, has already won more tonnes of awards, and there are plenty of detailed reviews to read out there — from proper, knowledgeable, experienced theatrical experts.
But, for what it’s worth, I heartily enjoyed Matilda. It fully captured the anarchic spirit of Roald Dahl’s original story (which I loved reading as a kid), but was actually better because of the excellent improvements and embellishments by writer Dennis Kelly. I’d even argue it’s the best Dahl interpretation ever made, in any medium outside of the books, although I’ve yet to see Spielberg’s The BFG at time of writing.
I especially liked how Matilda was more of a storyteller herself in the play, not just a clever bookworm, and the theme about “writing your own story” (i.e. taking control of your own destiny) felt a lot stronger here. However, the telekinesis angle felt even more random than in Dahl’s book (where it was still a pretty crazy development), as I was hoping they’d smooth that transition out somehow. Maybe by having Matilda move a few objects earlier in the story, without really noticing she’s done it.
There are also some fantastic songs from Aussie comedian Tim Minchin. You know the songs are very good when they sound instantly familiar, and you’re humming the best ones weeks days later. I’ve developed an unhealthy addiction to “Revolting Children” (which is very invigorating to experience in a live theatre situation), and Lesli Margherita’s version of “Loud” is just superb — although you have to scour YouTube for it, as I can only find the original London cast recording in Spotify. (The British cast are also great, but Margherita really wallops that particular song home in a way the daintier London version doesn’t. IMO.)
Anyway, my main reason for writing is to try and communicate a few thoughts that keep flashing through my head, about theatre versus filmmaking. I’m sure nothing here is going to be a huge revelation to anyone, but there’s a strange melancholy about seeing a good play— because it’ll never be the same experience for anyone else, except the people you saw it with.
I’m sure the actors are rehearsed to such a level that every performance is almost the same, but the biggest difference with theatre is the impermanence. Indeed, Matilda herself is played by four different children on Broadway (and likely everywhere else), and I saw it with Aviva Winick. So maybe the show has a different energy with someone else in the role, who may be a bit older? Or someone who’s English, not an American doing an accent? Little Aviva was great, but you could tell she (like most of the Broadway kids) were trying to keep sounding British by often over enunciating their lines. Small issue, kids! Loved your work.
But if you go back to watch the show again (not very likely, unless you’re loaded with cash), chances are most of the cast will have changed. It won’t ever be the same as your first time, and you’ll likely keep that first performance as a high benchmark. (Perhaps unreasonably so.) One of the actors may be objectively better in a particular role, but I could imagine clinging to the idea the first person you saw in the role was better. It’s crossed my mind that Lesli Margherita’s Mrs. Wormwood may be considered “too broad” if you saw a more subtle version the first time. But why should your first impression be the “correct” one, anyway? There are some odd things to consider when you review a play, basically. The only things that remain the same is the script (largely), the music and lyrics, and much of the staging and production design.
So when other people go and see Matilda (or any other play), and they don’t like it, maybe they just saw it with “the wrong cast”? Although, to be fair, having browsed YouTube to relive many songs, performed by the various casts around the world, it’s commendable how eerily similar the characters are. It seems like every actor is asked to do “an impersonation” of their predecessor, to an extent. I wonder if the actors like that kind of restriction, as they don’t really get to put their own stamp on a role in quite the same way as a movie actor would in a remake. Certainly, if film remakes were supposed to be exactly the same as the original, down to how the performances feel, there would be uproar from moviegoers. But in theatre, paying customers demand getting to see “the show” — the show their friend saw two, three, five years ago. Hell, in some cases it’s ten, twenty, thirty years ago! The faces may change, but the show goes on.
So, I really loved Matilda on Broadway. You should go see it, if you haven’t already, but I won’t be making trips to the theatre a regular thing. I’m staggered by the ticket prices, I really am. The cheapest seats are about £21 each, which seems okay at face value, but you’re probably going to be sat somewhere disappointing. And that still means £80–100 for an average-sized family or group of friends. The good seats are £70 at least, so then you’re talking around £300! Plus there’s the travelling expense of getting to London if the West End is a must! Plus whatever else you do that day! Oh, and you could need a hotel stay overnight, maybe? Suddenly you’re staring down the barrel of a £500–800 weekend break… and £40–50 at the cinema doesn’t seem so bad…
