A one-woman show turned musical that needs to go back to the drawing board.
I’m afraid the day has arrived. It’s one you (I’d hope) dread as a reviewer but nonetheless know is always lurking on the horizon. The day when you walk out of the theatre, glance at your notes and accept that you might have to give this show… one star.
I want to be generous. Love Goddess started as a one-woman show and has clearly achieved some critical acclaim, which isn’t a surprise. The story of Rita Hayworth, or Margarita Carmen Cansino, is a fascinating one—if a little overdone as of late—a rising star in the early 20th Century who appeared in over 61 films, was Fred Astaire’s favourite dance partner, and was nicknamed ‘The Love Goddess’ after she had become the most glamorous screen idol of the 1940s. It has the makings of a good show but, in this case, falls terribly short of perhaps even its own expectations.
Tonally, it misses the mark. For such a Hollywood story one expects grandiosity and glamour, but the production’s archetypal costumes and dodgy wigs leave the audience firmly in the realm of fringe. While the music and lyrics sometimes contain the seeds of what could be some inventive and engaging moments, they are often too obvious and seem likely underwritten and definitely underrehearsed. The book, too, occasionally lands when leaning in to Hollywood cliché, but not in the very scenes when it’s trying to create the emotional heart of the story. The suggestion of how she was treated by her father is unclear and mishandled and the combination of young and old Rita’s, with the young Rita multi-rolling, mixed with references to her screen roles, is simply confusing. The show’s failure to hit its target is perhaps most evident towards the end of the show when we discover Rita has Alzheimer’s. It’s a moment seeded early on but that the production doesn’t really seem built around in any meaningful way. A tightly constructed show about a former star losing her grip on the world she once ruled, or was ruled by, sounds exciting. This isn’t that show.
There were some saving graces. Imogen Kingsley-Smith and Joey Simon steal the night with their tap routine, and Kingsley-Smith makes a lot out of Young Rita with a strong vocal and capable performance. Speaking of good voices, Jane Quinn often commands the stage with both her old-school reporter pastiche and her impassioned mothering lullaby. Simon Kane had more difficulty with some of the tunes, but managed to capture the extravagance and wit of Orson Welles with relative ease.
It’s a shame that it is Almog Pail, creator and co-book writer, as Hayworth herself who is the weakest link. To be frank: the singing is shaky and occasionally off-pitch; the performance seems posed and indulgent; and she doesn’t command the stage or the audience. I found my eyes wandering elsewhere during her scenes, which is not the response you’d expect upon the arrival of ‘The Love Goddess’.
It pains me to speak so critically of new musical theatre, especially when put on in independent venues, as both need our support now more than ever. Ultimately, though, this feels like the first draft of a show. And for £22, it’s not (yet) worth your money. “Remember what you love” is Rita’s repeated plea. Me? I love good musical theatre. Unfortunately, this isn’t it.