Musicals come in all shapes and sizes. Not all of them are right for a West End stage. New York recognises this: there is a healthy off-Broadway market there for small, quirky or cult musicals, some of which run for many years and, on the odd occasion, transfer to the Great White Way. The success of the current, long running production of In The Heights might indicate that London is ready for a similar secondary market for musicals, where excellence in performance is the key, along with clever, interesting material, rather than the possibility of putting many bums on many seats in West End venues.
If ever there was a small scale production of a musical which deserved to have a long and rewarding run in a non-West End venue, it is the current, extraordinarily exuberant production of The Toxic Avenger The Musical now playing at the often-punches-above-its-weight Southwark Playhouse. Directed with skill and flair by Benji Sperring and featuring an exemplary, first-rate cast, The Toxic Avenger The Musical, is that exceptional production - two hours of inventive entertainment, far more worth one’s time and money than productions of Funny Girl, Kinky Boots or, even, In The Heights currently playing elsewhere in London.
This is one of those shows that never tries to be something it is not. Instead, it revels in its shortcomings and parodical plundering of other material. There are jokes about comic book heroes, other musicals, Oprah and the cult of celebrity, environmental vandals - but these are not just tossed in for the occasional hoot; they help characterise and define the nature of the work. Despite a lack of actual blood, it is bloody funny, and bloody and funny. The duality of focus and approach - creating a “real” world, but letting the audience see behind the scenes and occasionally involving them (warning: don’t anger the bleach squirting Mayor and don’t sit in the front row unless you like your protuberances prodded) pays real dividends.
This really is a musical which should appeal to anyone.
Written by Joe DiPietro and David Bryan, and based on the movie from Lloyd Kaufman, The Toxic Avenger The Musical began life in New Jersey, where the action is set, in 2008. It played off-Broadway for over 300 performances and stars such as Nancy Opel and Nick Cordero brought lustre to its reputation.
This production represents the European premiere of the musical and, frankly, it has been worth waiting so long to see this toe-tapping zany spoof in London. Every aspect of the production, from casting through to sound design, has been carefully and sensibly co-ordinated. The result is an unqualified success. It’s proof, if proof be needed, that soap/television/film/reality celebrities are unnecessary to achieve excellence in musical theatricality. Skill and attention to detail - that is what is necessary.
The plot is ripped straight out of the hallucinogenic meanderings of someone obsessed with, at least, Marvel and DC comics of the Sixties and Seventies. Long before Deadpool was poking fun at the superhero genre, The Toxic Avenger was laying the groundwork. Borrowing and riffing on the back stories of Peter Parker/Spiderman and Batman’s arch nemesis, The Joker, with a little nod to The Hulk along the way, Toxie, as the titular character affectionately becomes known, is an outcast nerd struggling to find love and acceptance while saving the environment.
It’s as silly as it reads. And it gets sillier.
In human nerd mode, Toxie is actually Melvin and he is in love with Sarah, the librarian. Brutal goons, henchmen of the evil Mayor, whose business interests are creating excesses of nuclear waste, toss Melvin into a drum full of that waste, hoping to get rid of him; instead, a monstar is born!
Toxie emerges from the muck that took Melvin and seeks to wreak revenge on villainy and environmental vandals, using his newly birthed superstrength and other powers. Rather brilliantly, Sarah, like Lois Lane and Mary Jane Parker before her, is blind to the Clark Kent/Peter Parker identity of her ardent admirer, but is willing to be hands on with his super-powered alter ego. But this is not about the startling chameleon effects of a pair of glasses - this damsel in distress actually is blind. So, despite the repellent visage of the superhero version of Melvin, Toxie, he thinks he stands a chance with his adored librarian because he now has toxic abs.
These foundations provide endless opportunities for fun as well as pertinent observations about society. Sarah, externally beautiful, is not much chop as a good soul; she is superficial and wants the life she imagines is “perfect” from Oprah television programmes. She seems obsessed with physical perfection and is something of a sexual predator – not your average blind girl as depicted on stage.
Melvin thinks he is a nerd and so becomes one. He is insecure and intelligent, and he dresses badly. You can almost see his Ventolin inhaler, even if he doesn’t actually have one. He is good natured and kind, but weak and, in his own way, he is obsessed with Sarah’s outward appearance in the same way she is with his – if she could see it. But she can feel his face, which she does. After that, her initial rejection of Melvin sets off the chain-reaction that results in Toxie’s birth and subsequent catastrophic events. In the end, despite wanting his superhero body, Sarah is dis-satisfied with Toxie’s mutated face and she breaks his heart by rejecting him. Cue song – well, two songs; one for Toxie, a blinding ballad where he gives voice to his heartbreak and a duet for Sarah and Melvin’s Mum where the latter explains that, really, all men are freaks.
The malevolent Mayor tries to kill Toxie, but Sarah intervenes and proves to be an anti-Annie Oakley – she gets her man with a gun, although most of the bullets she fires miss their mark. Felled by the fatally wounded Mayor (who uses bleach to attack Toxie), Toxie seems to die – but his mother revives him with the most disgusting vile liquid imaginable – a glass full of water from the Thames (originally it was from the Hudson, which makes more sense, but hardly matters) – and Toxie and Sarah live happily ever after, eventually having a child and finding themselves in their very own Lion King moment.
In keeping with its comic book origins and overall style, there are dozens of characters, sudden changes of mood, exuberant colour (in costume and character), exotic locations and an unrelenting sense of adventure. Nothing sits still for very long in Tromaville, the fictional town in New Jersey where all the action plays out. By utilising a cast of five to play a myriad of characters, the production is never predictable and always engaging.
Sperring has a clear sense of the nonsensical and farcical aspects of the material, and he plays to those strengths very well, allowing the cast freedom to take risks and improvise – on press night, one such moment of quick thinking from a cast member resulted in nearly all the cast corpsing, and the audience was spellbound as that moment played out. Unafraid to break the fourth wall, Sperring uses the audience as props at different stages and permits characters to divulge secrets or gossip about the mechanics of the production.
The manner of playing – across the board – is arch, camp, often borderline bad taste and always terrifically unsubtle. Perfect for the material. Mike Lees’ terrifically inventive set design sets the tone and mood precisely correctly: everything is dank and uninviting, but there are surprises around and in most aspects of the grey drum junk heap of toxicity that infuses the auditorium with a sense of apocalyptic carnage. Nic Farman dazzles in the lighting department and he makes effective use of every part of the playing area, transforming each with light and colour to transport the viewer – much the same way as turning a page in a comic can result in a complete change of mood and emphasis, so different states of lighting are communication tools in Farman’s skilled hands. Andrew Johnson’s sound design is superb, with lyrics and accompaniment given equal importance; the tunes boom out, but so do the words, critical in a little known work such as this.
Despite their flaws, both Toxie and Sarah are winning and you cannot help but root for them to get together, even if you doubt that genuine warmth underpins their coupling. This couple is no relation to Audrey and Seymour from Little Shop Of Horrors even though the context might suggest a similarity. This work is not about love, even though it touches upon that topic. It’s more about lust, peer pressure, societal pressure, the damage routinely done to the environment by business interests and the reality that everyone, in their own way, is odd and unique and has something to contribute to the world – if the world will let them and if they can be honest with themselves. However well wrapped up in nods to other musicals or pop culture those themes are, they still resonate. No matter how hilarious as a whole The Toxic Avenger The Musical may be.
It helps that the score and lyrics are endlessly joyous and full of rhythmic and vocal highs. Alex Beetschen’s musical direction is first class; everything is sung really really well and the five piece band, led by Beetschen, is brash, bold and brilliant. Like all good rock music, it calls for extremes in the vocal ranges of those singing the belting tunes, but there are no limp moments in the vocal gymnastics of this cast.
Mark Anderson is delicious as Melvin/Toxie. His beautiful rendition of You Tore My Heart Out is the true highlight of the evening. Anderson is a gifted comic actor and this is crystal clear in his awkward nerdy Melvin, who is so cringe worthy, watching him almost makes you itch. He wears the ludicrous green monstrosity suit with aplomb, and in short time makes you forget about Melvin and accept Toxie as real, as capable of pain. His ability to communicate Toxie’s fears and apprehensions, especially after the murder of the satirically named pensioner, Edna Ferbert, is considerable. His voice is in excellent form, his words crisp and clear. He sells you on Sarah’s virtues even when they seem hard to find; the high watermark of his work in this respect occurs in Hot Toxic Love, but in every way, this is a carefully considered and wonderfully nuanced turn.
Not that there are any deficiencies with Hannah Grover’s committed and enthusiastic performance as the blind Sarah – there aren’t any. She is every inch the part as written, beautiful and remote and obsessed by outward beauty and sex. It’s a funny, full-bodied turn, with the spirt of Jane Krakowski shot through it. Her voice is terrific too, soaring and bright, exactly as required. Her work in My Big French Boyfriend, Hot Toxic Love and, especially, Choose Me, Oprah! is outstandingly good. Spines tingle and funny bones are tickled in equal measure.
But, in some ways, Anderson and Grover are at a disadvantage, for even though they may be leads, the structure of the narrative provides endless opportunities for the other three cast members to steal the limelight. Because those three play a multitude of absurd and trite characters, all types and tropes, and those characters have full reign to do as they please in any way that is funny. And all three need no encouragement to chew the scenery and overplay – with rewarding results.
Lizzii Hills has the time of her life as a Nun in the opening number, Who Will Save New Jersey, and sets the tone for tongue-in-cheek frivolity which will define the entire production. Then as Melvin’s mother, she is the archetypal pie-baking good natured matriarch, with terrible but practical dress sense and the wisdom of the ages. You see clearly why Melvin is Melvin through Hills’ detailed performance as Ma, the high-point of which is the marvellous All Men Are Freaks.
Finally, as malevolent Mayor Babs Belgoody, a character who easily could have come straight from Adam West’s Batman, Hills suceeds in every way. Her Evil Is Hot is a frenzy of fun and virtuoso vocals and there is something utterly irresistible about her work in Get The Geek. But the bravura moment comes when Hills plays both Ma and Mayor to deliver the technically difficult but outrageously goofy Bitch/Slut/Liar/Whore – it’s an exultant moment, a perfect marriage of acting and singing. Hills is a triumph.
Having such centred, terrific performances to soundly ground the narrative permits Ashley Samuels (Black Dude) and Marc Pickering (White Dude) free reign in delivering riotously funny, acerbically camp Tromaville residents of all shapes, sizes, ages and sex. These two energetic and effusive performers juggle endless costume changes, accents and wigs to produce a loony tune collection of memorable characters – from goons Sluggo and Bozo to dolls Shinequa and Diane, with cops, medicos, a folk singer and a pensioner along the way.
Sal The Cop is particularly funny, but the most breath-taking work comes in the form of Shineqau and Diane. Using stereotypes as their foundation, Samuels and Pickering work real magic and, as compelling as the Toxie/Sarah story is, at times it is difficult not to be excited about what characters the two Dudes will play next. They sing with skill and clarity, both having interesting well-trained voices, and each has a well-honed gift for dead-pan delivery which works beautifully with the excessive or unlikely appearances their various characters have.
Lucie Pankhurst provides appropriately witty and quirky choreography which binds the music and the story into a style of performance which never flags. The entire cast execute the steps with flair and precision, keeping the audience in receptive happy-clappy mode throughout.
This is an almost flawless production of a musical which has much to offer. The perfect fusion of sound vision, clever creative concepts, splendid musicianship and highly skilled acting and singing. Its playing for 5 weeks but, really, it should run and run. It is a textbook example of how to approach an off-West End musical.