• Marvellous

10/25/22 (Tues), West End

A friend selected this play, apparently thinking from the photos that it was some kind of circus. As it happens, the play is a celebration of the life of Neil Baldwin, a physically disabled man with a speech impediment who became known as a professional clown and mascot for a local sports team (at times in a chicken suit). His unflagging can-do attitude was evidently an inspiration to the public, especially in those less-evolved times, and he has been recognized by the Queen and portrayed in a film biography.

That’s good for those who know about him, but rather trying for those of us who don’t. The show was in the form of a panto, appropriate for his mischievous personality, including lame puns, slapstick, audience call-backs, egg and pie throwing, water splashed onto the audience (including via a water-spurting umbrella) and more. Actors took on various roles in a collection of scenes covering the main points of his life, performed in a theater-in-the-round staging. It’s all in good fun and pointless to criticize, but it’s very much for a British crowd both in subject matter and presentation.

The actor playing Baldwin managed adeptly the difficult task of imitating the speech impediment without being condescending. His lines, though distorted, were completely understandable, a contrast with another actor who appeared to have actual speech trouble and was unable to articulate in a way that we could catch what was being said. It’s nice of them to include a diverse cast, but delivering the lines would seem a minimum requirement.

The acting itself is tough to judge given the genre, but it was all delivered with a wink to keep things from getting serious. Even the mother’s death was treated with a light touch, Baldwin reasoning that she would not want to look down and see him sad. The audience seemed to be enjoying itself. I could have skipped it. Baldwin himself, now in his mid-70s, was in the audience and took a bow at the end. I saw him signing programs for a long line of guests as I exited, a reflection on his character’s penchant in the show for asking everyone even slightly famous for their autographs.

The show was the debut production in a just completed theater, Soho Place, which claims to be the first new West End venue in half a century. I suppose their decision to kick off with a known quantity (it was a hit elsewhere) rather than a new show was to ensure an auspicious opening, and the venue was fairly full, though by no means sold out. The theater was tiny, and we could only access our seats along the long row from the opposite end due to the staging requirements, which could be hazardous in a fire. I didn’t expect that in a newly built venue. Similarly, the hallways were too narrow for the flow of people. Whoever designed this place must never have been to a stage show. Also, the bar was chaotic. We went immediately at intermission and had no line, but by the time we finally got our drinks from the inefficient staff, the three-minute bell rang. It should not take that long to pour coffee and tea. I would not be inclined to see another show at this theater.