Sunday in the Park with George

Sunday in the Park with George is a work of fiction that imagines the lives of neo-impressionist Georges Seurat and several subjects of his masterpiece Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte, then goes on to imagine the influence of Seurat's life and art 100 years later. It is a comedy, an ill-fated romance, a musical, and a study of the creative process and what art gives us. Its blend of whimsy and gravitas takes the audience on quite the journey. When done right, it is at once heartbreaking, hilarious, and thought-provoking. The Victorian season from Watch This does it right.

This production is brought to the stage with a level of attention to detail that would impress Seurat himself. The band sound utterly sublime under the direction of Ned Wright-Smith, while the bold costumes, minimal set, and well-integrated projections give us a strong, interesting aesthetic that supports the cast in telling the story. And it is the cast who bear the brunt of this story-telling responsibility. The lyrics and dialogue are rich with subtext, and the 15-strong cast honour every bit of it, with their nuanced performances of larger-than-life-but-still-believable characters. Each one, in their own way "added a certain humanity to the proceedings". I was surprised to find that the show felt like an ensemble cast, considering most of the musical numbers feature either George or Dot (the socially awkward artist and his lover/muse). The audience have to wait till the end of Act I for a full ensemble number. This is unusual for a musical, but I found it dramatically effective, and thematically appropriate. The elements of Seurat's masterwork are introduced to us bit by bit, piece by piece, and Act I closer Sunday illustrates the coming together of all elements. The musical layers and harmonies reflect this in a way that comes close to a religious experience.

Vidya Makan, as Dot/Marie, has the audience on her side from start to finish; she charms from the moment she steps onstage. The challenging dual role allows her to showcase her impressive vocal versatility; displaying richness, power, and depth of character, all as her singing appears effortless. Not so with her characterisation of Dot, which seemed rather mechanical at first. In my mind the role of Dot is somewhat akin to the flower-selling Eliza Doolittle, while Makan's rendering was more like a ballroom-attending Eliza Doolittle, so I found it a little jarring, but those less familiar with the show embraced Dot whole-heartedly. As Marie, in Act II, we see a very different character, one Makan plays to perfection.

In the title role (sorta) of Georges/George, Nick Simpson-Deeks gives a performance worthy of Broadway, and suited to the intimacy of The Lawler Theatre. In his characters, there is intensity, groundedness, soaring vocals, warmth, and a longing that made my heart ache. In the show's most tender moments, I was brought to tears more than once, as was Simpson-Deeks himself. But the show is also laugh-out-loud funny, and the biggest laughs went to Simpson-Deeks performing a duet between two dogs. That wasn't a typo.

Sunday in the Park with George proves to be as relevant now as it was in 1984, when it opened on Broadway. It has always been a daring show, one that takes risks and encourages the viewer to do the same. Presumably, this is the reason few producers are willing to bring it to life, and why it lacks the same recognition as mega-musicals from the same era. I am so grateful to Watch This for taking a risk and I applaud what they have achieved with this production.

Mary Poppins Returns film review

I have a difficult relationship with Mary Poppins. Being an ardent member of the Julie Andrews Forever Association (JAFA), it troubles me that I never warmed to her magical nanny-cal ways. As a child, Disney's 1964 film was completely lost on me. Although I have since developed an appreciation for the music and the story, I remain critical of Andrews' Poppins and the film as a whole.

It is with this history that I approached Mary Poppins Returns. I hoped for the best but feared the worst, entering the cinema as world-weary as Mr Banks himself. From the first few frames of this film, though, all anxiety about 2019 and adult responsibilities lifted and I was suddenly lost in London with the leeries, laneways and lolly-jars. 

Stepping into Poppins' shoes for her latest outing is the properly British Emily Blunt, while the cockney accent of her sidekick is this time approximated by Broadway royalty Lin-Manuel Miranda. Blunt's career to date has seen her impress as a leading lady, sarcastic fashionista, action hero, and moralising soprano, and she uses her own brand of magic to combine all of these qualities into one flying nanny. Blunt gives us a stern Poppins with spoonfuls of sugar enough to endear her to children,  old and young. Miranda, as Jack, is everything the role demands and more charming than any Disney prince.  The cast is rounded out with enough star power to offer an alternative to fossil fuels. Colin Firth is sinister, Meryl Streep is dotty, Emily Mortimer is joyous, Angela Lansbury is knowing, Dick van Dyke is alive. Special mention goes to Ben Whishaw as Michael, and the three young actors who play his children. Michael is Mr Banks now, and struggling to provide for his family since the loss of his wife. It's a premise that can lead to only one thing: tears. So many tears. That gorgeous family drained me of saline in all the best possible ways. 

Magic not only describes Poppins' talents, but this new film as a whole. There are plenty of magical episodes in unlikely worlds, which are not only diverting, but each serve a point: teaching us lessons and revealing out characters' strengths and weakness. This is the main contrast to the 1964 Mary Poppins, in which diversion is often a point unto itself. Similarly, the songs are closely knitted to the characters and circumstances and work to advance the plot. "The world is turning turtle", for example, won't make sense in any other context. Ever. The film is cohesive in a way that the first film isn't, but it also honours the original with a lot of references that will reward the observant viewer. The proper integration and songs and diversions rewards all viewers. Like Mary Poppins, Mary Poppins Returns is a long film, so by the time the climax arrives (and it really puts the climb into climax), we know the characters and care for them deeply, while they in turn are newly equipped to handle the situation in which they find themselves.

The musical style of the songs also honours the original, and should warm the hearts of anyone who bemoans the musical taste of "young people today". Marc Shaiman is a master of pastiche, and has given this film eleven original songs that fit perfectly next to those of the the Sherman brothers. Except maybe that rap verse in A Cover is not the Book. Such moments illustrate the difficulty of the task Disney gave themselves: create a family musical that appeals equally to children of the past and the future. Elements such as Miranda rapping (it's kind of patter singing, but the rhythms are more familiar to freestyle rap), hip-hop inspired choreography, and parkour stunts are clearly there for the younger audience, and in my opinion are successfully stitched together with the more classic elements. I have no doubt this film will appeal to all ages, but I'd be surprised if children find themselves humming these tunes in place of the radio hits of the day. 

I loved this film so much and will definitely be returning to it regularly. My relationship with Ms P just got way less complicated. I now love her as much as she loves her own reflection.

Mary Poppins Returns is practically perfect in every way.