• La Cage Aux Folles (play), 3/2/20 (Mon), London

The gay (in every way) French farce La Cage Aux Folles has had a storied history, enjoying success as a French movie (at the time America’s highest grossing foreign-language film ever), a long-running musical since revived on Broadway twice (winning Tony Awards on all three occasions), and an unfortunate hit American film version with Robin Williams. Given its history, it is amazing that the source play has never been performed in English. That has been rectified with this production in a tiny Fringe theater off the beaten path in a spirited translation by the estimable Simon Callow. Since the first film, the show has become more and more preachy and less and less interesting with each incarnation. A particularly cavernous gap exists between the casual French film, which was interested in the gay relationship only for its comic potential, and the American versions, where the gayness was the entire point. I saw the French film in its original release in the 1970s and loved the unashamed treatment of the topic, including the fearlessly “out” portrayal by the leads and Albin’s unexpectedly moving revelation at the dinner, both daring for the time. The politician’s slow burn at Albin’s confession was also masterful. The American versions seem embarrassed by the gay content and go out of their way to make their wokeness known. I’ve always been curious about the source play that started the whole thing, so this was an opportunity I wasn’t going to miss.

The single set featured a room above a notorious drag club in Nice. The living room was decked out in gay paintings and paraphernalia, with a staircase leading up to the unseen bedroom and separate doors leading to the nightclub and outside. Georges, the club’s owner, lives here with the show’s star, the emotional train wreck Albin. Georges’ son Jean-Michel, the result of a brief fling who has been raised by the father and Albin, comes for a visit. The good news: he is going to marry his girlfriend. The bad news: her father is a notorious right-wing politician who is big on family values – i.e., straight family values. The problem: Her parents, knowing nothing of the unusual proclivities of their soon-to-be in-laws, are now on their way to Nice to meet them. The terrified Jean-Michel, seeking to ward off impending disaster, wants his father to pretend to be straight and his swishy Uncle Albin to clear out until the coast is clear. Georges, shocked, refuses flatly at first to hide his lover and retreat to the closet, but ultimately agrees for the son’s sake. Albin, however, has other ideas.

The first act was a riot, introducing the story and main characters at a whip-cracking pace. It brings in some superfluous characters, such as a macho butcher (who has an unfunny sequence intended to teach the couple how a true man behaves), but the lively tempo keeps things rolling. The one substantial improvement over all subsequent adaptations was the portrayal of the son. Here he is not so much unfeeling in his embarrassment over Albin as simply nervous and confused in the face of a tough situation, an understandable flaw from a teenaged kid. His panicky request to exclude Albin, as opposed to the more calculated approach of the other versions, makes him feel like a real person rather than a simple cog in the farcical machine. I’m surprised that his personality was altered so drastically in the French film, making him seem almost anti-gay in a stance that was eagerly picked up by the prudish Americans. This production’s slant was easily its best aspect compared to other versions. Albin still reacts hysterically, of course, and the high-pitched emotions nicely set up the antics to come. But the shift in the son’s motivation makes the entire drama more logical and palatable.

At the same time, the play has a serious structural defect at this point in that three major characters, the fiancée and her parents, do not appear until the second act. (That was corrected in the French movie but sadly repeated in the musical.) Allowing audiences to get to know them early on would raise the stakes; here, they are merely described in the first act in a lame attempt to build the tension, making their actual appearance an anti-climax. I’ve modestly proposed a way to correct that defect, but as it stands, the first and second acts are disjointed.

Even apart from that, the play’s second half was not as accomplished as it should have been. The playwright loses his grip: the humor is forced, with unduly exaggerated anxiety over innocent comments; the politician is too over-the-top hateful; the story is less logical. Albin’s identity is revealed overly soon and in a weak manner, greatly diluting the joke, and the real mother’s entry and dialogue were entirely underwhelming. The conclusion is especially rushed, as the politician and wife agree rather too readily to put on the drag outfits that will allow them to escape. All these problems were resolved beautifully in the film, and I wish they had drawn from that in reviving the play – I wonder if this was a rights issue or just a decision from an historical standpoint to do the stage show as originally presented. Much of the frenzy in the second act seemed manufactured rather than organic.

It was also strange not to have some type of performance given that the show revolves around a nightclub. Surely they could have thrown in a song or two, perhaps making use of the staircase. Seems like an opportunity wasted.

The director did handle the small space efficiently and maintained a nice pace. He wisely kept the setting in the 1970s, when some now-outdated attitudes made more sense. The translation was adept and very funny. Paul Hunter was a strong presence as the perpetually frenzied Albin, and Syrus Lowe had great fun as the diva-in-waiting housekeeper (I’m surprised they kept the character’s black ethnicity given PC sensitivities these days). Both struck just the right tones in their extravagant queeniness and together kept the show afloat. Others were not to that level.

For all the show’s problems, I was glad to have seen it, but I couldn’t help wishing they had been a bit braver. I don’t think it’s revivable with the second act as it stands, but given the show’s name recognition and single set, its commercial potential would seem considerable with some adroit rewriting.