The Magic of the Musicals

The roots of western theatre lie in song. Classical Greek tragedy came from sung choruses, and opera has held its elite status for over three hundred years. The popularity of the modern musical, through the super-productions of Lloyd Webber, reveals the commercial, if not aesthetic, value of the recognisable tune. After the success of the films Mamma Mia and Hairspray, companies are linking drama and music, and seeking the emotional buzz that music supplies in short order, and even experimental outfits like Birmingham Contemporary Music Group are revelling in the opportunity of bringing together composition and choreography.

The Rocky Horror Show is back again to keep alive the strange mixture of transvestites, rock’n’roll and counter-culture humour. While The Time Warp has entered popular culture as a major irritant at discos, Richard O’Brian’s musical was originally a kitsch exploration of queer sexuality and has become a cult. David Bedella, this year’s Frank’n’Furter, observes there are fans who follow the tour across the country and become like family to the cast.

Popular enough to fill a major auditorium, yet retaining a core of supporters who will dress up and sing along, The Rocky Horror Show is more than a show: half adult pantomime, half subversive swipe at normality, Bedella believes that it remains a beacon for alternative values. With its playful homosexuality, and the seduction of a straight couple into the wonders of sensuality, it still provokes, despite its popularity. Bedella was a popular Frank’n’Furter on the last tour, and has found himself the recipient of friendship and offers of sexual adventure from the fans, including a threesome. “I have become more like a confidante,” he laughs.

If The Rocky Horror Show straddles the divide between the underground and musical theatre – über-cool burlesquer Vendetta Vain is part of a shadow cast that performs at film showings – The Birmingham Contemporary Music Group aims for the intellectual style that characterises venues like The Arches and Tramway.

“Rumpelstiltskin is not an opera,” argues director Richard Jones. “The musicians play onstage, and are part of the visual picture. The music drives the narrative and the action, it is as much about listening as looking. It's probably closest in feel to a silent movie, with the dancers' actions and gestures articulating the music. The dancers make the music theatrical.”

Although BCMG have taken a fairy story for their story, this is not kid’s stuff. “It has a dark edge to it – and probably explains why this particular Grimm story has tended to be avoided by Hollywood and the Disney Studios,” Jones points out. His influences include “a tradition of composers writing 'grotesque' – Bartok, Hindemith, Schreker, Copland, Kurt Joos dance drama 'The Green Table', the Bauhaus ballets of Oskar Schlemmer” and contemporary visual artists Sarah Lucas and Robert Gober.

Through an accessible, archetypal tale, BCMG are able to take on big themes, and use music and musicians in a new way. “I think it's interesting to take advantage of the fact that the musicians are visible, rather than to pretend that they're not there. Musically, it's structured like a puzzle, with recurring themes, repeating musical games which re-appear in different contexts.” It moves closer to the gig, while offering a taste of modern classical intellect.

The Italian Girl in Algiers is quite clearly an opera: staged by Scottish Opera, it transplants the action of Rossini’s romance to the set of a television set. Since Scottish Opera have been experimenting with the format of their performances, without ever compromising the core qualities of elegance and beautiful voices, this is another example of their enthusiasm for finding imaginative interpretations of classics.

By abandoning drab realism, opera unleashes the profound emotions that lie beneath our daily routines: by placing the characters in complex situations and exotic locales, Italian Girl lends epic scope to the same feelings that lurk in the painful waiting for a text after a date or the tentative approach to the object of desire down Viper. The aria, the crown of opera and familiar through Classic FM and superstar tenors’ gigs, is an effective expression of deep ideas and inner turmoil, wrapped up in swelling, ecstatic melodies.

Sometimes, our culture can be so obsessed with cool and status, the emotions are suppressed: the world-weary cynicism that litters Facebook status updates is burst open by the operatic voice to expose the romantic yearnings. A recent open rehearsal reduced at least one writer to tears as the Italian girl waited on her lover, captured in an orientalist fantasy harem. Despite the far-fetched plot, Italian Girl deals in everyday experience and hopes.

Finally, We Will Rock You hits the Playhouse. Essentially an excuse to sing Queen’s greatest hits – the plot is a device, something out of a prog-rock concept album – it makes the most sense of the many adaptations of existing music. Queen always had a theatrical edge, from Brian May’s flowing locks to Freddie’s extravagant on-stage carry-on, and their line for a hook has seen their tunes turn up everywhere from hip-hop pop hits to football terraces.

This one is straight up fun: rousing tunes, a science fiction adventure, celebrity singers, including “love-rat” Darren Day. Not taking itself quite as seriously as Lloyd Webber, this one guarantees pleasure, so long as you like Queen.

What all of these events share is a faith in the immediacy of music’s impact. Since the pop and rock markets overshadow nearly every other art-form, this synthesis makes sense: in its way, We Will Rock You is as experimental a fusion as Rumpelstiltskin – it mixes rock and musical theatre for an original blend. A supposedly old fashioned genre like opera still deals with essential emotions, and a fairy tale can grapple with complex ideas. Add a few good tunes, and the audience is going to be feeling it.