Review: The Voice of the Turtle (Jermyn Street Theatre)

Review by Sam Waite

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Nestled between splashy shows about strangers manoeuvring baked goods in one direction and tap-dancing, urge-burying missionaries in the other, the Jermyn Street Theatre has opted to bring charming, old-fashioned romance back to the West End (the area, not the kind of theatre… it can be confusing!) with The Voice of the Turtle. Written by John Van Druten, probably best remembered for his I Am a Camera’s musicalisation as Kander and Ebb’s Cabaret, this 1940’s Broadway hit was once called, “the most delightful comedy of the season,” and one can’t help but wonder if it still carries those same breezy charms.

A three-hander with a handful of unseen but significantly mentioned characters elsewhere, The Voice begins with theatrical ingenue Sally Middleton, busy rehearsal for the roles she hopes to one day play when her old (and older) friend Olive drops in for a visit. Soon to arrive is Sargent Bill Paige, one of Olive’s many beaus whose company she plans to enjoy during his weekend of leave, while Sally does her best not to pine over the Broadway producer who called off their own affair when she got a bit too serious about them. Never one to turn down an opportunity, unless a better one arises, Olive quickly invents a story of marrying another officer since she and Bill last saw one another, as an excuse to ditch her date to meet up with a higher-up, more worldly suitor.

Truly, it’s anything but a spoiler to tell you that Bill and Sally end up spending the majority of the weekend together – it’s been eight decades since the play premiered, and almost as long since it was adapted for the screen, but some truths are universal. “He was a boy,” an early-aughts rebel might say, “She was a girl.” Really, could Van Druten make it anymore obvious? Personally, I always worry that work of a certain age, performed without alterations, could seem overly quaint, a bit too naïve in its sensibilities – have no fear, this doesn’t apply to The Voice of the Turtle much at all. The way they talk about matters of sex, promiscuity, and that everlasting girl code (“beau snatching” is a term in desperate need of a comeback) may be less direct, but it somehow manages to maintain its bluntness. It would be unfair to focus too much of a review on Van Druten’s text – certainly, he won’t be able to take the notes – but I couldn’t help but notice how refreshingly direct this trio of characters are, and how easily the story could translate to the modern day, if the rotary switched out for an iPhone and the radio for a smart TV.

Ruari Murchison’s has designed a gem of a set, able to add just the right ammount of touches thanks to the play being entirely set in Sally’s tiny New York apartment. Anyone who’s visited the Jermyn Street Theatre will know how intimate – yes, I mean small – the space is, but this works particularly well for this production. Sally’s grand tour of the apartment is made even funnier by just how miniscule the space is, with Olive politely behaving as if she hasn’t seen the entire apartment within two steps of her arrival. With movable pieces, realistically-used storage and a bed tucked just where most of us would opt to have it, Sally’s apartment quickly feels like a real, newly lived-in space. Likewise, Anett Black’s costumes feel authentic to the people and to the period, with a more glamorous approach for Olive, uniform for Bill and a handful of stylish but modest ensembles for Sally.

Admittedly, because of the size of the apartment there is some suspension of disbelief needed when characters are meant to have not clearly heard something said barely two meters away on the phone, but we do need to hear the dialogue, and it’s not as if years of Friends didn’t prepare us for this snag in single room sets, so it’s not too hard to go along with the text. Philip Wilson’s direction also greatly helps, being consistent in how far away someone can hear, or how loudly someone needs to shout, so we have a clearer understanding of the apartment’s potential size and layout beyond what can be placed on stage. Wilson also lets the show breathe, not trying to make lines more outwardly risqué or the characters more modern in their deliveries – he knows better, and keeps the tone light and airy, the wink winks and nudge nudges securely in place, and the wholesomeness of the romance at the forefront.

The cast of three are all delightful in their roles, with the women in particular shining throughout. Nathan Ives-Moiba is charming as Bill, although the character is oddly vague compared to the more vibrant, distinctive leading ladies, and it’s easy to see why both would be taken with him. As Olive, Skye Hallam is an absolute scene-stealer, giving broad comedy and really leaning into the character’s preposterous, entirely self-centred views on how she ought to behave. Hallam’s delivery of a pivotal line, “I never knew men could be such bitches!” brings a dazzling comedic moment to a weightier, more impactful moment in their would-be romance. The Voice hinges on the actress playing Sally, whose lack of sureness around her own relationships and struggle with the idea of behaving more promiscuously are major factors in the plot. In her professional debut, Imogen Elliott is up to the task, bringing to the part an air of genuine sweetness that makes Sally, simply but essentially, a nice, pleasant young woman. Her polished veneer does strip away as things progress, and that initial butter-wouldn’t-melt quality really helps to add poignancy to more heated moments in the second act.

Quaint, intimate, and utterly charming, The Voice of the Turtle is the kind of play we don’t see as much of these days – in particular, we don’t see them produced without some satirical edge or mocking presentation. While it’s true that tastes can change between decades – even between weeks, for some – it’s difficult to deny the simple pleasures of a sweet story of a love affair going up against a racing clock, a jealous friend, and a leading lady’s worries about the future. Tucked away near some of London’s biggest and flashiest offerings, this good old-fashioned night at the theatre is refreshingly sweet, and entirely welcome.

The Voice of the Turtle plays at the Jermyn Street Theatre until July 20th

For tickets and information visit https://www.jermynstreettheatre.co.uk/show/the-voice-of-the-turtle/

Photos by Steve Gregson