Half a Sixpence
Having suffered through No Man’s Land it was an unadulterated pleasure to visit the Chichester Festival Theatre for Half A Sixpence. I remember the impact that musical and film with Tommy Steele had on me for the perception of the cruelty of the upper class provincial snob. The story as told by HG Wells in Kipps is of a drapery assistant in Folkestone who unwittingly comes into a fortune and loses the connection with his roots and his childhood sweetheart Ann. As is the way with the Victorian novel there is a subtitle to describe the character. Tessa in Hardy’s Tess of the d’Urbervilles is called a “pure woman” which created quite a scandal as she had sex before marriage. Arthur Kipps is a “simple soul” who does not understand and does not like the world into which his new found wealth transports him. As with Travels with My Aunt the back story is sufficiently strong to carry the songs.
Just as various writers, both of the dialogue and lyrics, took Christopher Isherwood’s Berlin Novels to Cabaret so heavyweights Julian Fellowes, the master of the class divide drama,and impresario Cameroon Mackintosh make their substantial and substantive input into the final product. The casting director has surely discovered a new star in young Charlie Stemp. He sung and danced with brio, the only area he needs to improve is his recital of dialogue. Of the supporting cast the two female leads being the sweetheart Ann, played by Devon Elise Johnson, and the upper middle class Helen Walsingham to whom he is betrothed, played by Emma Williams, gave assured performances. To prevent the play becoming a one-sided class war between the honest working class values and crass and cruel upper class snobbery Helen is a responsible person. She tried to guide Kipps away from the fraudster brother and clearly loves him for who he is, not how he can restore the fortunes of a family on hard times. She exposes the weakness of Kipps for failing to tell her about his earliier relationship with Ann who becomes a parlour maid in the aristocratic home of Lady Punnet. The show is nearly stolen by Ian Bartholomew as the boisterous playwright Chitterlow the only one to offer kindness and wisdom to Kipps. He is the one who saves him.
The stage design was brilliant The centre piece was one of those decorated band stand-style pavilions often found in seaside Victorian towns. This was adapted to drapery store, pubs and ballrooms as needs be. Costumes too were elegant and approximate.
Of course a musical is defined by its numbers and although David Heneker’s original songs – notably Flash Bang Wallop – are preserved. George Stiles and Anthony Drews have added new and melodic ones too.
Theatre goers often turn up their noises at musicals. They seem to be falling in the very same snobbery that Wells depicts. The upper class world is stuffy, over formal, over-regulated by silly protocols that constrain the natural exuberance of man. So can be more formal theatre. Instead of grappling with the complexity of Pinter, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience as did others. The Chichester audience must be on average 70 plus and perhaps one not as ready to show emotion. One lady outside was blubbing into her mobile “I’ve just witnessed the most extraordinary theatrical event”. She had.
Not for the first time I hold out my hat to artistic directors Jonathan Church and Alex Finch who, season after season, roll out a programme of musicals, contemporary and classic drama that the subsidised National Theatre can never seem to emulate in quality, diversity and crucially entertainment.
