Review: Road Show (Upstairs at The Gatehouse)

Review by Sam Waite

⭐️⭐️

After the legendary failure of Merrily We Roll Along, it seemed like composer Stephen Sondheim and Harold Prince’s collaborative union could be at an end. More than two decades on, their 2003 show Bounce would reunite the pair, itself a reworked version of the Sam Mendes-directed Wise Guys. Reworked again in 2008, that two act musical became Road Show. A character added in ’03 was dropped, the interval was cut, and Road Show joined the ranks of Sondheim's less-produced works, making this production Upstairs at The Gatehouse a genuine novelty.

The interval has, somewhat inexplicably, found its way back into this production, directed and choreographed by Amanda Noar. John Weidman’s book for Road Show follows a fictionalised version of the Milner brothers’ adventures, beginning with a La attempt to strike gold in the early 1930s, and ending with a mass con built around the creation of Florida’s Boca Raton. Addison “Addie” Mizner spends much of the show wanting only to put his skills in architecture to good use, while younger brother Wilson “Willy” Mizner finds himself unable to resist hatching schemes.

Sondheim and Weidman often made for a dynamic team, their Pacific Overtures proving particularly impressive in its recent Menier Chocolate Factory revival. Unfortunately, neither of these titans of the theatre did their strongest work on Road Show, Sondheim's score for while has touches of what made their previous collaborations so magical, but which too often feels like a means to an end, something to get from A to B, rather than a compelling piece of musical storytelling. His lyrics, too, miss much of the charm that drove his most character-driven work. With the since re-evaluated Merrily as a personal favourite, it was disappointing to find that early criticisms of Road Show seem entirely justified.

Noar does a fine job as director, keeping a solid pace throughout in spite of the interval, the re-introduction of which proves a particularly confusing decision when act two confirms that it simply isn't needed. In fact, the separation of the many misadventures of Addison and the literal and metaphorical song and dance routine that is the Boca Raton scandal causes a serious disconnect, much of what happened earlier on far too easy to forget. Noar does what she can with the material, mining what sense of brotherly devotion she can out of Addison's relationship with arrogant, deeply selfish Wilson, but Weidman’s characters are too surface level, too lacking in dimension to be properly explored.

Reece Richardson leans nicely into the slimier touches of Wilson Mizner, willing to make himself a figure of disdain without pushing into full pantomime villain territory. Richardson also brings strong vocals to the role, having the qualities of a traditional leading man with all the caddish swagger of a self-centred crook. For being the more focused-on brother, Oliver Sidney’s Addison makes a less firm impression, his voice pleasant and emotive but his characterisation too often flat or one-note. In an act two scene ending a fondly-held romance, it was difficult not to see him trying to play sadness, rather than embodying the emotion.

A definite standout is Rhys Lambert, whose Hollis Bessemer carries a drive and sense of genuine passion that works against the book’s weaker touches. A wholly fictional character, inserted to address Addison’s noted homosexual relationships without raising the ire of a real-life friend’s estate, Hollis is an energised bundle of nerves, a young man both wide-eyed and world-weary, thanks to Lambert’s exceptional, well-balanced performance. In a musical focused on the exploits of the Mizner brothers, it's this fictional character who makes the strongest impact, both on the narrative and the audience.

Ruby Boswell-Green’s set design’s effectiveness varies between scenes, even though only a single set is used. When the grandeur of their attempt to build a newer, better city takes focus, her woodwork-stars and stripes backdrop is a stunning metaphor – a symbol of patriotism and new opportunities, made from inexpensive and off-colour materials. Outside of this later section, the hidden doors and overhead platform are used to great effect by Amanda Noar, but the visage of a flag seems at first a too-on-the-nose clarification that this is a story set in the United States.

The remainder of Noar’s small ensemble, Katherine Stohmaier, Emily Friberg, Robert Finlayson, Folarij Akinmade, and Madeleine Morgan, offer not only strong vocals but boundless energy to the production. Climbing up and down, bursting in and out of doors, continually cycling through roles (as does Lambert for much of the first act) their skills and dedication are abundantly clear. Where Road Show’s already-embedded problems become apparent, it's certainly no fault of this skilful group of actors.

As a devotee of Sondheim, and an admirer of his previous collaborations with Weidman, the opportunity to see Road Show, a show more known by many for its reworking than its content, was an enticing prospect. Sadly, much of the draw of this piece proved to be the pedigree of its authors, and the novelty of its being produced. The Gatehouse’s Upstairs venue continues to be a wonderful space for lesser-known works to be given a chance to shine, and while I admire this mission I wish I could see more of the potential that encouraged this production.

Road Show plays at Upstairs at The Gatehouse until January 12th 2025

For tickets and information visit https://www.upstairsatthegatehouse.com/roadshow/