London With a Teenager

Now, I think I mentioned before that I was worried about how “The Producers” would go down with a woke, GenZ audience. The awkward silence at Musical Con only confirmed my theory that the show might just be a tad too politically incorrect for London in the 2020s. So was it? Well, we’ll get on to that.

Cause it turned out I had bigger things to worry about with this trip. Is this a crutch I see before me?

Why yes, it is and it belongs to VK. Not because she’s cosplaying Tiny Tim, although that is plausible, but because she took a tumble on New Year’s Eve and fractured her ankle. As I was quick to point out to anyone who would listen, no drink had been taken. Just a typical hypermobile dyspraxident gone bad.

So how to get a child to the West End on crutches? And how to get them up 88 stairs to a Grand Circle? Well, that was the question for last week, when we had tickets to “Christmas Carol Goes Wrong” at the Apollo Theatre. I emailed the accessibility team at Nimax Theatres as soon as we had confirmation from A&E that it was broken and their response was….nothing. I heard nothing. So Nathan and Reuben went without it and took some friends from church to use the extra tickets. And I promised VK I would work out a solution for the next booked show, which was “The Producers” at the Garrick Theatre, another Nimax venue.

I got back on the horse and emailed the accessibility team again. If dealing with schools and local authorities has taught me nothing else, it’s persistence. This time I got a response – they had seats free in the Dress Circle, which was on street level. All I had to do was pay £50 per person to upgrade.

Essentially, that reply was “you really should have bought better seats to start with, you tight wad”. 

Now, don’t get me wrong. I never expect freebies. I’ve seen a number of shows on press tickets and I am always grateful every time I’m given one. The majority of West End shows we’ve seen have been ones we’ve paid for. So I’m not a grabby person. At the same time though, this was a genuine accessibility problem and when I looked back, I realised we had visited Nimax theatres six times over the last year (it helps that they have the Lyric, where “Hadestown” is). If I was a customer service rep, looking at my order history and situation, I might have  been tempted to at least discount those seats a tad rather than use a child’s ankle breakage as an upselling opportunity.

Anyway, I thought on it a little. Our seats were in the Grand Circle, which was only 33 steps up…so a lot easier than the 88 at the Apollo. But she’s only just mastering the steps in our own house and that’s without crowds of people tutting behind her. So I paid £100 to upgrade my seat and VK’s, let Nathan and Roo sit in the original Gods seats and mentally offset the cost by eating at home first instead of grabbing a Five Guys before the show.

Still, it didn’t sit well.

I will get on to talking about the actual show, I promise. But first the next challenge – getting there. And before I launch into my complicated plans, I want to acknowledge that this is only temporary and that many people have to navigate this world with a disability every day. I know theatres have restrictions on changing their buildings so I don’t think there’s an easy solution but it is sad that so much of the West End is inaccessible. 

As is the tube! So our usual route of Weaver-Vic-Pic was not going to work. Instead, we drove to Essex Road where we parked up and got the 38 as far as Cambridge Circus. Then we hopped (quite literally in VK’s case) a 29 to right outside the theatre. It wasn’t the fastest way to get into town and the drive both ways was a little stressful, with Saturday night traffic and eventual fog, but it worked. The other option I was considering involved the Mildmay Line from Hackney Central to Camden Road and then the 29 but that would depend on coming in on Platform 1 at Hackney Downs, which isn’t guaranteed. So a bit of driving and a bit of public transport seemed like the way to go. It took about one hour 20 each way, which is about twice as long as usual and there was a woman on the 38 who looked like she might stab us at one point.

She didn’t. It’s all fine. Still, I was relieved to be in our expensive seats:

Finally, onto the show! I love “The Producers” and the film soundtrack is on constant rotation in the car, which means that the kids and I did know some of the jokes before they happened. I don’t think that matters though, and there were some sight gags that were unexpected, along with a couple of songs that aren’t in the 2005 film. I have seen the live show before but that was also in 2005ish so there were definitely bits I’d forgotten.

I mentioned earlier that this show might not be GenZ-friendly and I stand by that, even though my own GenZ and Gen Alpha both enjoyed it. It makes fun of gay people, old people, Swedish people, German people, accountants, theatre people, Jewish people, Irish people and well, most people really. The female characters are objectified and there is a lot of innuendo. You might wonder why I, as a lefty liberal feminist Jewish Millennial, am not offended by any of this and the answer is in that list really – if everyone comes in for a swipe, then it’s not especially offensive to anyone. It’s dialogue that originates from the 60s and is set in (I think) the 50s so the humour is a reflection of that time. Also, it’s a very affectionate swipe on the most part. You can choose to be offended by “Keep it Gay” but it’s a celebration of the contribution that the gay community have made to theatre. Even if they don’t actually all live in the same house and go to fabulous fancy dress balls every night. Similarly, the song “King of Broadway”, which wasn’t in the film, gets into some very caricatured Jewishness at one point, including a routine that I think is a nod to “Fiddler on the Roof”. But again, it’s not a harmful stereotype when the writer of the original film was Jewish, the stars of the film were Jewish and the characters are Jewish. Jews have always been good at self-depreciating humour and even in these most challenging times, we still reserve to laugh at ourselves. If “Springtime for Hitler” had come from a pen that wasn’t Jewish, it would be problematic but as it is, it’s just satire.

On that note, I’m going to go off on another brief tangent before refocusing. Just this week, Walthamstow was in the news after refusing to let the Town Hall be decked in swastikas for a WWII era film. Instinctively, I think LBWF made the right decision on this one, as there are so many real-life neo-Nazis around at the moment and it would be a bad look for the Town Hall to display flags which might be seen as sympathising. However, we must be able to separate art from reality and we have seen several musicals lately which use swastikas as part of the narrative (“Cabaret”, “The Book Thief” and “Operation Mincemeat”). In some cases, they are used to shocking dramatic effect and in others they are used to mock the Nazis. The latter is definitely true here and honestly, I have no problem with either use, which is just as well when the swastika is picked out in giant flowers at the back of the stage. It’s the appearance of them scratched into school furniture or on stickers on lamposts that perturbs me. But that’s a whole other post.

While I’m on the subject of the set though, I did worry that this was going to be a “bare bones” kinda production and I didn’t know how that would work. Something the cast said at Musical Con about how their set was more basic than the previous production made me think it would be Edinburgh-fringe-style one chair and a brick wall. It wasn’t. While I see what they meant about the smaller scale of the set, there was still everything that was needed to set the scene, including the iconic office door, the “Opening Night” revolving sign and the aforementioned giant flowery swastikas.

Also, the costumes were more than elaborate enough to offset any lack of detail elsewhere. Roger deBris did indeed resemble the Grand Duchess Anastasia and the show outfits in Act 2 were almost blinding in their sparkliness. And I don’t want to give any spoilers but there’s a very special outfit that appears in the Franz Liebkind rooftop sequence. It’s all very over-the-top and gloriously indulgent, so my concerns about it being too basic were entirely unfounded. The performances are over the top, with some great physical comedy between Bialystock (Andy Nyman) and Bloom (Marc Antolin). They never try to exactly replicate the performances that have gone before but they have exactly the right kind of threadbare charisma (Bialystock) and nervous energy (Bloom) that the characters demand.

The supporting cast are also great. Trevor Ashley seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself as Roger, with many winks to the audience and Kate Parr nails both the look and the belt of Ulla. And that’s a theatrical belt, not a cardboard one like Max wears. She even manages to sing while hanging upside down at one point, which is quite the achievement. Raj Ghatak is deliciously bitchy as Carmen while Michael Franks is perfectly unhinged as Liebkind. I’ve taken the casting from the screen in the foyer, by the way, as we I think we had a couple of understudies on….but I apologise if I’ve got anyone’s name wrong.

The ensemble rapidly change characters, from Max’s gang of old ladies to Irish coppers via the De Bris household. I enjoyed the tap dancing usherettes and the zimmer-frame routine, both of which have great vocals to match. Which leads me to one slight nitpick – during “That Face”, Ulla and Leo dance on a plinth towards the back of the stage but it’s covered in a kind of plastic sheeting so makes a weird muffled sound. I’m not sure whether that’s an intentional creative choice but it jarred in a routine where everything else seemed to be very precisely choreographed.

That’s just a tiny nitpick though. There is much to love about this production – the meta jokes work so much better on the stage than they did on the screen and VK howled during one particular moment in “Betrayed”. There’s a brief reference to “Chicago” which she also very much enjoyed. The chemistry between Bialystock and Bloom is both affectionate and tense and the whole cast seem to be having a great time. Their enthusiasm is truly catching.

The theatre itself feels like the perfect place to stage this – the heavy red velvet feels very trad-Broadway and immerses you straight away into Bialystock’s world. In case you’re keeping tabs, I went for Jude’s Vegan Vanilla interval ice cream and VK had Haagen Dazs because they had something other than Jude’s for once. She also scammed me for popcorn, raspberry lemonade, a pigeon-duck and this very sparkly bottle of water. I’m not sure I made that £100 back really.

In conclusion, this is not the most PC show but it’s thoroughly enjoyable and will raise your spirits even on a foggy, gloomy January night. We may take a break from theatre trips for a while until VK’s ankle is healed up but I’m glad we made this work.

5th November is certainly a time for remembering things and so it was probably appropriate that I used a day’s annual leave to take VK to the KitKat Club (AKA the Playhouse Theatre) to remember what life is like under the creeping influence of extremism. It’s a timely reminder, as is the reminder not to drink Schnapps in the middle of the day when you haven’t had lunch. But more on that later. First, tho, a quick visit to see the Guido Fawkes himself at Charing Cross:

Followed by a walk down the world’s longest corridor, which had VK asking whether we would ever see daylight again. Just then, we spotted a sign saying “there is light at the end of the tunnel” and with that, we emerged into the greylight of The Strand and headed down Northumberland Avenue.

Anyway, turns out the Playhouse Theatre is at the other end of Northumberland Avenue and we probably should have stayed on the tube to Embankment. Ah, well.

We weren’t allowed to take photos inside the KitKat Club so here’s a last image of us on the pavement before we joined the queue:

It’s a strict 13+ rated show so VK is only just old enough but there was a school trip also in the queue so I wasn’t the only one exposing innocent teenagers to Weimar decadence. My teen is pretty obsessed with Weimar Germany at the moment, as it happens, so this was a perfectly-timed outing. The marketing suggests it’s a very adult environment but don’t worry if you are taking a teen – it’s all pretty campy and tame really. As well as the school trip, the audience around us was made up of tourists and older people so it wasn’t quite the den of debauchery that some of the publicity might suggest.

When I say it was perfectly-timed, there was one drawback. I had booked because of the current leads – Eva Noblezada and Reeve Carney. I’ve mentioned before that VK loves “Hadestown” and, as we’d wanted to see “Cabaret” for ages, this seemed just right. We’d missed out on seeing their Musical Con 2025 slot because they were on the Sunday and we only went on the Saturday so maybe this time we’d be lucky?

We were not. I’d heard on social media that they had recently got married, which made me panic that they wouldn’t be appearing in London this week. So I had a look at Eva Noblezada’s Instagram and, sure enough, they were taking a break and returning on 6th Nov. My panic was justified and, turns out, we had actually timed it pretty badly. I broke the news to VK and she took it pretty well but I still feel slightly aggrieved that the information is only in small letters on one part of the website (“About”) instead of being highlighted when you’re booking. We still wanted to see the show and it’s always interesting to see understudies but I do wish we’d at least been told. Even yesterday morning, I spotted four ads for the show in my Facebook news feed and they all heavily featured the Hadestown two.

Anyway, I don’t intend to write a negative review for the sake of it. As the Emcee says, you have to leave your troubles outside the KitKat Club…they will have no troubles inside. So who am I to take my booking troubles and let it influence my review?

The first thing to know is that this is an immersive theatre experience. Although the Playhouse Theatre has this traditional-looking entrance, it is not open before the show:

Instead, you’re admitted through a metal curtain that leads down the stairs into a seedy basement club where someone is playing the piano in raucous 1920s style. We were asked to present our phones on entry and have a sticker put over the camera, which is why I didn’t take any photos of the interior. You’ll just have to trust me that it was very highly themed and decorated, with lots of detail everywhere. You can also trust me when I say that having a teen who’s phobic about stickers means that this censorship method also ensures that the teen won’t even touch their phone until you’re back out the other side. A VK-repellent if you will.

There are signs telling you not to touch the performers and I wondered why that was necessary but the performers do get very close to the punters, so I can see how there might be misunderstandings if the rules aren’t made explicit. One unsuspecting man was ordering a drink in the Gold Bar while a scantily clad performer leant off the balcony above the bar and pretended to tickle his bald head. The performers clearly know the boundaries so I can see why it’s important to let the audience know too. There was dance and accordion music in the Gold Bar, which all added to that Weimar feel.

You’re instructed to get to the venue an hour before the show to wander around the various bars and have a drink but we ended up getting to our seats quite early. I think there’s an option to dine before the show if you’re on one of the cabaret tables but we were up in the Dress Circle, which was traditional theatre seating, so I don’t think that was possible without an upgrade.

The timing of arriving at 1 meant leaving home at 12, which meant that I didn’t have time for lunch before we went in. And they give you a complimentary shot of Schnapps on entry (not for the 13-year-old), which can be edgy so early in the day. Combined with the eerie green light in the corridors, the twisting staircases and the sinister music being piped through, it does combine to make you feel like you’re in a David Lynch film. I spent a long time wandering around trying to find the loos and ended up in the Upper Circle, having climbed around sechzig stairs to get there. The loos nearest our seats were labelled as “Urinale” (yes, the signs were all in German as well as English) so I didn’t think they were meant for women. Later tho, VK found an entirely different set of loos which were entirely urinal-free. I’m normally quite good at navigating theatres but this was a bit disorientating. Which I assume is all part of the experience – I imagine that the real KitKat Club would have been much the same.

So, onto the show! I haven’t watched the film for a few years so I don’t know it as well as I do some other musicals…still, I have ideas about how these roles should be performed and I imagine others do too. There were some distinctly different interpretations of the songs to the Liza versions but I’ll get on to that later.

The show starts with a spotlight on the Emcee, who was played by Joe Atkinson in the performance we saw. The Emcee is a curious character, who never really reveals his true feelings or motivations. Everything is very staged and it’s not clear whether he supports or opposes the Nazi party – like Uncle Max, he encourages everyone to turn a blind eye to what’s going on and just enjoy the show. His initial “we’ll have no troubles in here” sounds very sinister by the end. Joe Atkinson does a great job of balancing these elements and his performance of “Money” was described to me by VK as “iconic”.

The show is performed in the round, with no scenery at all but with a rotating stage and a trap door middle, both of which are used in “Hadestown” and, I think, “Hamilton”. There isn’t a super strong narrative to “Cabaret” so it’s all about the performances and characterisation. Fortunately, there are strong characters to work with…as well as the aforementioned Emcee, there’s the wilful Sally Bowles (Marina Tavolieri), the socially awkward writer Clifford (Baker Mukasa) and the two older characters that have their own, very sweet romance  – Fraulein Schneider (Ruthie Henshall) and Herr Schulz (Robert Hands).

Most of the action actually happens away from the KitKat Club, in Fraulein’s boarding house or, as in an early scene, a Berlin-bound train…so you can see why they didn’t go too heavy on the set dressing. Two notes on that train scene – firstly, there is a curious artistic choice to have the conductor speak German to Herr Ludwig while asking for his passport and inspecting his case. I understand that it’s because two Germans are talking to each other but that happens throughout the show and every other interaction is in English, regardless of whether the two native English speakers (Cliff and Sally) are in the scene or not. I didn’t have a problem following the dialogue as it’s fairly easy German but can’t help wondering what others made of it. Secondly, the scene takes place at the German border and then all of a sudden, they arrive in Berlin. Isn’t Berlin several hundred miles from the border with France? But now I’m nitpicking.
It also struck me how similar the plot is to “Moulin Rouge” – impoverished writer arrives in foreign city and falls in love with a showgirl – but hey, Cabaret was there first.

The other way it resembles “Moulin Rouge” is the creeping threat in the background, the idea of something evil growing amid the glamour. Here it’s the rising power of the Nazis, who are initially dismissed as “just another party” but whose ideas insidiously take over during the course of the plot. There are a couple of shocking moments, which I won’t spoiler, but each time there was a collective intake of breath as they happened. I liked that the symbolism of shattered glass remained on the stage throughout the second act, showing that once a window has been broken, it stays broken. The first time “Tomorrow Belongs to Me” is performed, it’s a little disappointing as it’s all a bit abstract and doesn’t share the sense of the film version, where suddenly everyone around the main characters is part of this same machine. However, I was wrong to be disappointed as the reprise during an engagement party brings exactly that sense – the friends and neighbours of Fraulein Schneider are the ones who are embracing this new narrative and it’s terrifying.

As a Jewish person living in 2025, there’s so much more I could say on this but let’s not lose focus on the production itself. Given I’ve watched this and “The Book Thief” recently, I think I need to see “The Producers” next to get some Jewish humour counterbalance to all this darkness.

A word on the performances – as we got absorbed into the plot, I forgot about the disappointment of not seeing Reeve and Eva, which I would say is a good sign. Marina Tavolieri played Sally as both brash and vulnerable, especially during “Cabaret” at the end. It’s an interesting choice and I don’t know whether it’s part of this particular production or whether it was an individual performance but it’s sung very shakily, with regret and disillusionment. It makes sense from a character POV but it’s a bit like Anne Hathaway’s “I Dreamed a Dream” – sometimes you want the power of the song, as well as the emotion. The film version of the song is defiant whereas this was defeated, which I realise was an artistic choice but it didn’t 100% work for me from a musical standpoint. Her “Maybe This Time” was fabulous tho, as it had the same vulnerability but a lot of power behind it. If you’re wondering what my armchair-psychiatrist child has diagnosed Sally with, it’s ADHD. I have to say I agree.

I’m also not sure why the pairs of performers cast are the Emcee and Sally, as if those two are the main roles. Clifford is the protagonist and arguably has more stage time than either of them. It would make more sense for a pair of performers coming into the show to play Clifford and Sally, especially if they happen to be a married couple. That’s just my thought tho. The Emcee is pivotal but barely even shares a stage with Sally, whereas Clifford is, in effect, Sally’s partner for most of the show, despite being a closeted gay man.

Oh, and if you’re wondering whether the age rating is suitable then I’d say there are a few awkward moments and lots of explicit sexual references but in a very vaudeville kind of way. The school kids behind us sniggered a bit but there’s nothing in the show that a broad-minded teen shouldn’t see. It does deal a lot with the issue of sexuality and that’s explored through many of the characters’ stories – not just Clifford and Sally but also Fraulein Schneider and Herr Schultz and Fritzie and her sailors. They didn’t ask for ID at the door but definitely not one to try and sneak a small child into.

Back to Clifford, and he was ably played by Baker Mukasa. He’s very much the observer, briefly in Sally’s orbit but never really allowing himself to get fully drawn in. The scene near the end where he uncharacteristically loses control for a moment was very well done and with the right amount of restraint. It’s not as showy a role as others but it was very well done.

Similarly, the secondary characters – Fraulein Schneider and Herr Schultz – are not very showy but they were VK’s favourites and with a West End veteran like Ruthie Henshall in the role, you know you’re in for a treat. Their story brought a lump to my throat and I’ll never think of a pineapple in the same way again.

I realise I’m rambled on for quite some time and probably haven’t told you anything useful but I would say we both enjoyed it. VK has been singing “Maybe This Time” ever since and is planning on rocking the HP Christmas Fayre with her rendition. This production is not exactly like the film version and there are choices that might prove divisive but it’s a powerful retelling of the story and, once again, very timely. On a practical note, I should tell you that the first half is a full hour longer than the second half, which is slightly odd but just be prepared for that and don’t down a full stein because if you go in search of the loos, you might never come back.

It was a surreal thing to go to as a matinee because it’s so focused around nightlife but, this being November, it was dark when we emerged at 16:45. We went in search of dinner and, along the way, found this Emcee-like mannequin:

We decompressed with burgers and fries, which helped soak up the early afternoon spirits. I’d be interested in seeing the show again with different leads but, actually, the experience is more important than the exact cast I’d say. And it is quite an experience. Just remember to leave your troubles outside….

It’s been a few days since we saw The Book Thief but it’s haunting me still. Maybe because it is so very prescient or maybe because it’s a tale for all times….of man’s cruelty to man but the strength of human kindness providing some light even in the darkest of times. And who better to guide us through this tale than the master storyteller Melanie LaBarrie?

If you’ve followed this blog for a while, you’ll know that VK is quite the MLB fan, having seen her a couple of times as Hermes in Hadestown and even met her at a meet and greet earlier this year:

I saw her last ever performance as Hermes, where the warmth felt for her was incredible and it was the same at MusicalCon last year. I do have a review of MusicalCon 2025 brewing by the way but I’m a bit behind on blogging. Blame the manics, among others.

So the idea of MLB as Death, narrating The Book Thief was intriguing and she did not disappoint. She was funny, poignant, even tragic at times but brilliant as ever. She was born to tell stories and this was perfect for her. If this is what death is really like – a hug from Melanie LaBarrie – then none of us should fear it. I’m welling up on the Victoria Line even as I write this.

But this production was more than just one person. To rewind a little and give some context- this was billed as a staged concert. So not a fully produced show but with some acting around the songs. It was actually much more developed than that – there were costumes, props and scenes as you’d expect from a full production. There was even choreography. The set was very basic but if you hadn’t told me it was “in development” then I would have just assumed it was another Jamie Lloyd happening.

The story is fairly simple – a couple in Nazi Germany foster a small girl who has a habit of stealing books she can’t read. The small girl, Liesl, was played by Estella Evans and her foster parents were played by Jack Lord and Cat Simmons.

I know I’ve watched the film before but I’m not sure whether I’ve ever read the book. I definitely cannot nitpick on the scale that I did for Ballet Shoes. But I do think some changes were made in terms of the order of events and occasionally that showed in the plot. There was a thread involving the mayor’s wife that never really developed beyond a couple of scenes and I wonder if that was a remnant of a previous version where Liesl ends up living with the mayor and his wife as she does in the book.

But that one plot bump aside, the show makes perfect sense. There isn’t a huge amount that happens but it’s about regaining a sense of family even in the midst of horror around you. Part of that family is Jewish boxer Max (Isaac Gryn) who is hidden in the cellar and with whom Liesl makes an unbreakable bond. It’s implied that he’s taken to a concentration camp but then returns at the end for a happyish ending. Sorry, I should have spoiler-warninged that shouldn’t I?

One thing I won’t spoiler is the tragedy of the piece, which was an emotional high point. We certainly both cried so much that I considered calling in sick to work the next day. When Death is your narrator, you know that she is going to visit some of the characters you care about but still….it was absolutely heartwrenching.

It’s not all sadness though. There is lightness to be found along the way too, especially as Liesl and her friend Rudy (Blake Graham) run around the town, oblivious to the growing horrors around them. There are some gorgeous moments with skies full of stars appearing just above the stage. There’s also a snowball fight with Max in the cellar (“Bring in the Cheer”) and a song about how much a wife hates her husband’s accordion playing (“Dreadful”). VK laughed out loud several times, especially at Melanie La Barrie’s perfectly-timed jokes. Although I’m not sure whether the “Mein Kampf 2016” line was a joke or just a fact.

So there’s humour and joy but there are also some intense moments. There are also some very timely reminders about how fascism can take hold of ordinary people because it’s easier to think as everyone else does, rather than resist. With all the tension in the world at the moment, it’s a bold time to stage a musical that wholly condemns extremism but it’s a message the world needs. It’s beautiful, it’s challenging and it’s only in London for a very limited time so I would urge you to act quickly if you do want to see it for yourself.

Afterwards, we were in desperate need of restorative carbs and it was raining far too much to do stage door, so we wandered down Brewer Street to find VK’s current restaurant of choice – Honest Burger. And here was the beacon of hope shining through the rain:

False hope, as it turns out. The branch was about to close because of kitchen problems so we had to walk back down the length of Brewer Street to find another branch. Eventually though, we had our chips and all was well. Don’t ask about Monday morning…

“The Book Thief” has two more shows on 26th October. For tickets and more info, click here

No disclaimer needed as I paid for this show. All opinions remain honest and my own.