Together in Paris
Walk right in, sit right down and prepare yourself for the most unique theatrical experience to hit the Morgan Theater since the SITI Company performed Systems/Layers last September.
Some may not love it and some may not understand it, but everyone who gets a seat in the adapted night club theater to view Utah State Theatre’s production of “Jacque Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris,” can come out appreciating the production’s departure from tradition and the musical genius of French singer/songwriter Jacque Brel.
Brel, whose music made the evening a delight, was described by contemporary critics as being “as potent as Bob Dylan” and “as popular as Frank Sinatra, a combination of them both,” and yet unique in his own right. He lived and believed that performing music was a chance to tastefully provoke the audience.
Entering the altered theater, the ambiance of the stage set-up immediately invited the audience into its private and personal portrayal of a French cabaret, a setting which, as one of the quotes flashing before the show proudly proclaimed, created intimacy, “without illusion” and a “sense of reality, of being in a real place where audience is as vulnerable as the actors.”
One large chandelier hung from the ceiling with several smaller ones illuminating the haze-filled stage. Quotes by Brel and people who knew him flashed on the six screens surrounding the stage while French music played in the background. Servers sold glasses of Sprite and root beer as everyone took their seats waiting for the show to begin.
Composed of 22 songs with little to no overall coherence (a fact that did little to detract), “Jacque Brel” is a musical revue in the strictist sense: a show given over solely to the sensory pleasure of music and the emotional impact it can have.
The lyrics, sometimes in French but mostly in English, captured the heart of the manifold facets of life’s experiences: love found and love lost; the ravages of war and the ramifications of death; dreams and reality; prostitution, drugs, middle-class ignorance and any other arrow Brel could aim at the heart of human existence.
The melancholy overtones of “Old Folks,” sung by Richie Call, told the story of the thousands of aging adults who watch their silver clocks waiting for the time when they too will die. The macabre comedy of “Funeral Tango,” executed by Nick Hutchinson (whose facial expressions were eerily laughable), asked what would happen if Brel were in attendance at his own funeral viewing his phony friends and the people who never knew him (somewhat cynical, but hilarious). The “Bachelor’s Dance,” performed by Tyson Smith with help from Call, Hutchinson and Chris Hudson, captured the spirit of the many love-sick, marriage-hungry men who look frantically for that one special female to marry, but never find her.
If that song doesn’t hit home, well, good on ya mate.
One particular poignant moment came when Lindsay Boucher performed “Sons Of,” a song about children who grow up, go to war and die, while film projections of children playing at a park evolved into images of war’s destruction.
Though the visual projections were well-crafted, their inclusion during some group performances like “Marathon” and “Brussels” instigated a sensory overload of sorts stemming from the anarchic mesh of song, dance, film and hazy smoke.
I mean, someone could have had a siezure.
Though there were some technical difficulties, especially with sound projection, and there were times when the singers and the background visuals didn’t match up, the evening still succeeded in running the pantheon of emotions, with several moments of connection between theater-goers and performers.
Still, the well-set, theater-in-the-round style brought viewers insync with entertainters, creating moments when I wasn’t certain where the singing was coming from. Performers sat alongside spectators at tables, and wandered inbetween audience members, inviting them to participate, though marginally, in many of the songs.
The performers exhibited compentance in both their singing and dancing ability, though I’m not sure any of them will be singing at Carnagie Hall anytime in the near future. In a phrase, they were more than enjoyable, but somewhere short of astounding.
For better or for worse, the evening was a real delight. So, unless you’re in danger of epilectic shock, get a ticket, get in line and get a seat to experience Brel’s admirable music.
Matt Wright is a junior majoring in English and a theater critic for the Utah Statesman. Comments or questions can be sent to him at mattgo@cc.usu.edu.
“I plant one burning rose,” as song by Libbi Heap in he UST´s production of “Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris” in the Morgan Theater. (Photo by Jamie Crane)