ajhlovestheatre

THE FABULIST

Music by Giovanni Paisiello

Book and lyrics by James P Farwell

Directed by John Walton

Charing Cross Theatre, London – until 21 September 2024

https://charingcrosstheatre.co.uk

Following on from the backwoods camp of Bronco Billy and a surprisingly engaging Korean musical life of Marie Curie, Charing Cross scores the 2024 hat trick of small scale tuners probably too eccentric to thrive in a larger space but too enjoyable to write off, with this frothy, frequently delightful confection. In tone, execution and performances, James P Farwell’s The Fabulist is near to chamber opera than traditional musical theatre. 

Theatregoers who were around in the 1980s might find themselves recalling the work of Nicholas Broadhurst and Tony Britten’s Music Theatre London company, which took popular operas and updated them into intimate musicals, with the emphasis on the acting as much as the singing (their Cosi Fan Tutte set on a RAF base was particularly good, and their swinging sixties take on Figaro had a West End run). Mozart, and even more so Rossini, was influenced by the work of 18th century composer Giovanni Paisiello, and it is this little known (to modern audiences) maestro’s music (exquisitely played by Bobby Goulder’s string-heavy quintet) that provides the score for The Fabulist. This is a musical that doesn’t sound like anything else currently playing (except perhaps for some of the pastiche sections in The Phantom of the Opera over at His Majesty’s).

The Fabulist has a gossamer thin plot, inspired by a one act opera Paisiello wrote for Catherine the Great, dressed up with the delicate music, a clutch of accomplished performances and some tangy off-the-wall humour. Farwell begins his story on a film set in Mussolini’s Italy where quarrelsome sisters Cassandra and Clarice (Lily de la Haye and Réka Jónás) are trying to make an allegorical movie about the Trojan war, hampered by actors temperament, uncooperative props and hordes of clueless extras (“seven years of fascism and they still can’t walk in a straight line”). Into the chaos wanders itinerant magician (or fabulist, as he prefers to be called) Agrofontido (Dan Smith) and his flamboyant companion (Constantine Andronikou). Agrofontido and Clarice fall for each other but the former is in danger as the young woman’s uncle, a high ranking Cardinal (Stuart Pendred) is arriving imminently and has waged war on any kind of magic, deeming it a dark art.

As the emphasis is so firmly on humour, and the delivery of the music which is often lovely and lively but hardly dramatic, it seldom feels as though much is at stake. A notable exception is Clarice’s second act aria ‘Love Guide Me’, which Jónás delivers with rueful elegance and an exhilarating command of stratospherically high notes. The second act gets bogged down in debates about magic versus science, but this is offset somewhat by illusionist’s tricks performed at close quarters, and the sheer likability of the cast. It’s also pretty to look at, David Shields’s colourfully ramshackle set being an attractive amalgam of fanciful set pieces, giant planet models, and an imposing monumental arch, and the costumes are elegant.

Smith’s Agrofontido isn’t a typical romantic hero but rather a charming goofball. He’s also a member of the Magic Circle in real life, so the tricks happening just metres from you in the audience really do defy explanation. Jónás is a genuine find, marrying a stunning voice with quirky comic timing. Lily de la Haye is equally wonderful as the less histrionic sister and there’s lovely work from James Paterson as their doting, vino-obsessed scientist father. Stuart Pendred injects some swagger and a booming voice into the proceedings as the sinister but ultimately foolhardy Cardinal.

The Fabulist may be a little gentle for audiences used to being dazzled, or blasted out of their seats, or emotionally traumatised (or possibly all three), at regular West End. It’s an agreeable divertissement for sure, and the vocal and comic talent is exhilarating. It’s not an evening without its longueurs and the trivial and whimsical don’t make natural bedfellows with the more serious stuff, but it still has much to enjoy.