Chess. Chess. Oh, whatever happened to Chess? Despite one hell of an amazing creative team, this musical was not accepted well by the critics from the beginning of its life in London in 1986. One would think that a musical with book and lyrics by Tim Rice, music by “the guys from ABBA” and starring Elaine Paige would be incredibly successful. But critics and audiences alike always struggled with the complicated, heavy story and the show was considerably less successful on Broadway than it was in the West-End.
Surprisingly, this new production from Strictly Come Dancing’s Craig Revel Horwood manages to get it even less right. The ever-changing book still doesn’t work, the production is ill-conceived, the actors mismatched, and the score isn’t exactly consistent. It was quite simply one hell of a bore.
The show opens with “The Story of Chess”, which does exactly what it says on the tin and explains the story of Chess; which wouldn’t be so out of place if this plainly simple song wasn’t wedged into a show with songs striving for metaphor. This odd mixture served only to confuse the audience. In this song we were introduced to the character The Arbiter and one recognises quickly Tim Rice’s love for narrators. This show joins his three other successful musicals Joseph and his amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, Jesus Christ Superstar and EVITA to make a quartet whose plot (in the vision of Rice) could not advance without an irritating ‘ever-present’ character to offer their (and influence the audiences’) opinion on matters.
Soon we were introduced to the lead characters Freddy (the American Chess player – played by James Fox) and Florence (his assistant and wife – played by Shona White) who both gave, at best, mediocre performances. These roles are considered ‘challenging’ to play, but Fox and White seemed to interpret them as a chance to stride around the stage screaming for two and a half hours. The songs that were supposed to be significant for these two characters (Pity the Child and Heaven Help My Heart) completely passed me by as these wannabe rock stars (Fox in particular) followed the musical cliché of pouring their hearts out in every song to the extent that when it mattered, I didn’t care.
In contrast, however, Steve Varnom as Molokov performed his main song The Soviet Machine incredibly well. One can’t help but feel that if Horwood were a more effective director he may have coaxed more focussed performances from his cast. And had more time to invent decent choreography.
The lead actors of Chess.
The score is one of the strangest pieces of the show. Generally considered to have some of the greatest music written for theatre and I might be inclined to agree. That is, however, if it wasn’t so inconsistent. I always like to remind people that there is a difference between a score and a group of songs. And whilst Chess has a couple of great songs (Nobody’s Side & The Soviet Machine mainly) it doesn’t mean it is a complete musical score of complete quality. One friend of mine summed it up by saying “If you like one continuous song with a hit thrown in, then you might enjoy this…” which is, of course, exaggerated but on the right lines. The score varies so much it might give the most musically open-minded of people a headache. Starting with quasi-opera music of Les Miserables tendencies, the score proceeds to dramatically change every five minutes to everything from epic power ballads (Nobody’s Side) to funk and rap (One Night in Bangkok) and to what sounded like a reject from Fiddler on the Roof (The Soviet Machine). Whilst these were fantastic standalone songs, it is rare you find composers talented enough to combine many different styles in to one score effectively. Where Lloyd-Webber and Bernstein succeeded, Benny and Bjorn failed.
This production uses something like the 5th incarnation of the book. Each production has jostled songs and details around to the extent that performers in the original production would hardly recognise the show now. What is presented before us is a collection of highly dramatic, angst-filled scenes hastily and messily glued together. The narrative is incoherent (a word often used to describe Chess) and just downright confusing. The question of what happens in Act II is surely one of the ultimate ones of the world and one which I cannot find the answer for. Presumably because I was asleep (I blame the lights). These scenes were presented to us on a silver platter vomited on with the kind of campiness and flashiness we might expect from Revel-Horwood which results in many audience members wowing with delight. It is the age of trick of blinding them with sheer spectacle that they see past the faults that a show might have. As one might expect, Chess needs a hell of a lot of spectacle to cover up its many faults. This is reflected in Ben Cracknell’s atrocious lighting design which does nothing to reflect the events of the show and feel less at home in a theatre, and more like it belongs in a rock stadium. Even being sat in the very last row I became the victim of a migraine; which, contrary to popular belief, isn’t actually necessary.
The company.
I've never been a huge fan of the concept of having the actors play the instruments too, but in some cases they method is really effective. If the instruments are used theatrically and are part of the action and narrative, and aid the plot (like the current UK tour of Guys & Dolls or Punchdrunks’ Woyzeck) then the image can be very effective, but to simply have the actors and instrumentalists “doubling up” gives the impression of trying to save money and detracts from the action, which is the last thing an audience needs in a show as difficult to follow as Chess. However, it does work well under the aforementioned theory of using “dazzle” to cover-up the shows flaws. The upside of this coin, however, is that the band did make a fantastic sound, although that was mostly thanks to the offstage rhythm section holding the show together.
An additional plus point was that although the actor/musicians were unnecessary and got in the way, they did have fantastic costumes designed by Christopher Woods that were aesthetically pleasing and blended well with his modern, chic set design which heavily echoed that of the original production.
In conclusion, Chess had some nice moments. Mainly the costume and set design and a couple of performances. With the exception of these, however, it did not make for an enjoyable evening at the theatre. It is rumoured that a West End production is on the cards. I can only hope that this doesn’t happen and that Chess is left as a relic of its time and not brought back to haunt us in the 21st Century.
1*
