Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
London Palladium 2002-2005

Forgive me for the polemic that follows in place of a review - but Chitty Chitty Bang Bang is a slap in the face for theatre-goers and theatre industry alike. For those not wishing to read further, this stage adaption of the classic 1968 film based on Ian Fleming's children's book with songs by the Sherman brothers (of Mary Poppins fame) will give adults an agreeable nostalgia hit while children will be entranced by its endless splashes of colour and movement.

But that makes a spectacle, not a show. Director Adrian Noble proves here that he is incapable of creating a stage musical but could produce a half-good pantomime. And definitely become a rich man into the bargain - for that is what this is all about.

The show is a solid enough reworking of the MGM movie, removing much of the various subplots and gamely attempting to link sections with new, big ensemble numbers. The cast, while able, is decidedly B-list. Michael Ball works hard as Caractacus Potts but lacks magic, Emma Williams' Truly Scrumptious is harmless enough, Anton Rodgers plays an excellent but pointless reprise of the Lionel Jeffries film role, Richard O'Brien's Childcatcher is weak-voiced and remarkably terror-free. On the plus side, the stream of young performers who play Caractacus' children, Jeremy and Jemima Potts, are relaxed and a joy to watch, while the show's saving grace has to be Brian Blessed (who I'd normally avoid like dog dirt) and Nichola McAuliffe as Baron and Baroness Bomburst hamming it up to the audience like a pair of pantomime dames. One feels, luckily, they were left to their own devices by the director.

On the production side, West End stalwart Jeremy Sams' adaption is monolinear, Anthony Ward's design is functional - no more - while the arrangements, although not sizzling, are harmless enough. Musically, the original Sherman brothers songs are not as bad as some make out and have weathered extremely well (admittedly songs such as The Roses Of Success and Me Ol' Bamboo hark lazily back to earlier successes like Mary Poppins) and personally I rate Hushabye Mountain as the best ballad composed for a musical (well... aside from Somewhere, obviously, and Maybe This Time [or is that a torch song?]). And in the flood of trivia accompanying Chittymania, I'm happy to report that the film soundtrack is MGM's most requested soundtrack and that the duo coined the word "fantasmagorical" especially for the movie. Their new songs are stinkers though, if truth be said. The Child Catcher's Kiddy-Widdy-Winkies is pure pork pap, while Teamwork, sung underground by the lost children of Vulgaria with Caractacus and the Toymaker, is a swathe of winsome schmaltz that still sparks extra applause, presumably for its Les Mis undertones.

Moonlighter Noble shuffled all these people around on the Palladium stage in months of rehearsal while quietly extricating himself from the day job as head of the presently (potentially fatally) ruined RSC. His timing can only be described as breathtaking when he abruptly announced his departure from the RSC top slot just as Chitty Chitty Bang Bang premiered safely to glowing reviews and £8 million-plus advance bookings in the bank.

Meanwhile, old cohort Gillian Lynne with her diminishing dance credentials on Cats and Phantom needs a pension too. Having worked with Noble on the similarly insulting Secret Garden, she repeats their mistakes all over by once more confusing shifting blocks of performers left and right with the art of choreography. Between the two of them they murder every opportunity for dramatic tension, suspense or celebration the hapless Sams has to offer.

This production reeks of cynicism. The industry powers that be put their heads together to come up with something to revive flagging West End fortunes and the drooping Great British Musical. In their success, they have created an undignified scramble for the biggest buck for the least effort - and the public is conned into thinking this is theatre.

A £6-million budget, prestigious prime-site venue, timeless children's classic, Michael Ball, £750,000 flying car, songs everyone comes in already humming... please! It's critic proof, recession proof, public proof. Ball got a resounding clap the instant he waddled on, the car too, and the multiple standing ovations at the end were as part of the script as Toot Sweets and the sound of ringing cash registers.

Nick Awde

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Review - Chitty Chitty Bang Bang - Palladium 2002