Singin’ in the Rain

‘Be an actor, my son – but be a comical one’. More than just a line from the famous slapstick song ‘Make ‘Em Laugh’, this feels like the foundation of Northern Light’s bold production of Singin’ in the Rain.

Don Lockwood and Lina Lamont are two silent movie stars, repeating the same story over and over, with the off-screen backing of Cosmo Brown, Lockwood’s partner since music hall. The studio, run by a superficially hard-nosed R F Simpson, is forced to compete with its rivals and start making talking pictures – but there’s a problem: Lamont’s voice is not meant to be heard. With the help of an unknown but brilliant performer, Kathy Selden, they transform the dull period drama into a dazzling musical.

That original 1952 classic film starred Gene Kelly, Debbie Reynolds and Donald O’Connor, and this production is a few stage revivals later than that, yet it remains a brash, MGM-sized spectacle, even on the community theatre stage. Director Sue Pole returns to the show she last directed for NLTC sixteen years ago, assembling an enormous ensemble cast of nearly forty men and women, all singing and dancing around the Shedley stage. Pole’s staging is familiar for fans of the original – and the iconic props and sets are all there to enjoy, whether you know the film or not.

Dominic Hodges is Don Lockwood, a famous silent movie star who hams it up in black-and-white, but is forced to adapt to talking pictures following the success of a rival studio. Hodges has the right charm, though sensibly, he doesn’t try to emulate Kelly, instead making the character more introspective; he’s unsettled for a long time from his first encounter with Kathy Selden. His chemistry with Kate Hodge’s Selden is evident from the first words they exchange (they are real-life husband and wife), and this quickly becomes the hub from which the rest of the story spins.

Kate Hodges bursts out with Kathy’s confidence and indignation so well in that first scene, and she dominates the stage whenever she’s on it – even amongst a dozen dancers in ‘Beautiful Girl’. The range and power of her singing outshines everyone else and brings wonderful shades of colour to the story through song.

Lockwood’s sidekick/partner is cheekily played by Thomas Sheldon, who revels in the comedy and knowing glances to the audience. The role of Cosmo requires exceptional physicality, particularly in the classic song ‘Make ‘Em Laugh’ where he must sing, dance and pratfall simultaneously, whilst being constantly funny. Sheldon is excellent at finding the right spot every time, and his pace helps tremendously in moving the story along.

Whilst the show’s narrative isn’t particularly complex, it is supposed to be constantly busy and moving, yet the pace of some scenes – and particularly, the transitions between them – kills a lot of momentum that the performers built up under the lights.

Michelle Davy captures the essence of Lina Lamont: brash, naïve but so over-confident she could never see it, let alone admit it, and Davy’s voice is superb. Her solo ‘What’s Wrong With Me?’ is a huge highlight of the show.

Russell Ford’s R.F. Simpson is gruff but genial, and Wendy Rayner’s gossip columnist, Dora Bailey, is suitably smarmy charm. The ensemble do a great job too: always smiling and there’s a lot of them for Kerreane Sarti to choreograph around the stage. The big dance numbers are impressive and the dancers work as a team, being well balanced throughout – and supremely well-dressed too! The multitude of costumes for the dancers are so bright and bold – designers Sue Winston and Pole have achieved a marvellous punch of colour in every scene. The set design is a little drab – a huge grey wall and doors forms the basis for every scene, which works well in a studio interior, not so much for a luxurious mansion or outside the famous Grauman’s Theatre. It hid a lot of the back lighting, which is so important for setting the scene in ‘You Were Meant for Me’ and showing off the Technicolor in ‘Broadway Melody’. No spoilers for the design of the titular song, except to say it’s well-done.

Penny Vandervlag’s orchestra does a good job from the pit, though it would be great for them to be louder – there’s so much energy in the music wanting to enthuse the audience and performers. The movie clips on stage are the glue in this story and Sam Davy’s films complement the show well – authentic to the period and maintaining the same humour on screen as is on the stage.

It’s a brave production, with bold set-pieces and triple-threat strength across the stage. It certainly makes ‘em laugh, and even on a dry evening outside the theatre, we’re still singin’ long afterwards. 

Mark Wickett