Dusty – a unique “fusion
musical” (whatever that is) about the life of Dusty Springfield - has been in
the making for over a decade, whilst previews have already lasted for three
months. What exactly were the producers waiting for? If the answer is a decent
script, they should’ve waited a little longer.
Perhaps the show eventually took its cue from Sinatra that opened on the West End a
few weeks ago. Like that show, Dusty doesn’t
place trust in its cast of performers, nor the power of the songs alone. Just
as Sinatra utilises a flying, singing
video projection of the great crooner, Dusty
does the same with video performances taken from Springfield’s 60s heyday.
In fact, the show goes one better (if you can call it that) by using a 3D
hologram. It’s like Dusty Springfield has come back to life! Except…not at all.
For starters, this weird ghost Dusty (like the show overall)
is plagued with technical issues. She jerks awkwardly, shimmering in the stage
lights and frequently faces the back of the stage as if coquettishly refusing
to show us her face. That’s probably to cover up the terrible lip syncing.
Speaking of which, the video projections are totally out of sync with the sound
recording – either the sound was extracted from a different live version to
what we end up seeing, or Dusty was terrible at miming.
Then there are the sound levels. The musicians (themselves
under-rehearsed) totally overpower the singers who are, in turn, overpowered by
ghost Dusty whose implementation utterly undermines the whole point of a live
performance. The different sonic elements have in no way been blended to an
acceptable volume. Instead, ghost Dusty blasts in during the middle of a song when we’re trying to enjoy some actual
live singing as opposed to a recording we could quite happily go and listen to
at home. Pipe down Dusty!
Further, Dusty fails
on a narrative level as well as a technical one. Now admittedly the life of
Dusty Springfield isn’t the most dramatic of tales, at least not until her
career took a downturn after the release of Son
Of A Preacher Man in 1969, she turned to drink and drugs, and eventually,
after a brief comeback in the late 80s and 90s, died of breast cancer in 1999.
Except Dusty doesn’t even begin to
touch on this part of her life, instead beginning with her early years singing
with her brothers and ending with that famous single from 1969. Very little
happens within this time besides the petulant, perfectionist and childish Dusty
pushing all her loved ones away in her rise to fame. The central conceit is
that it’s all narrated by her childhood friend Nancy in flashback, but with her
own blonde ‘do’ the show becomes just as much about her and takes the focus
away from the show’s namesake.
Biographies of her life claim she had something of a split
personality – the sweet Mary O’Brien from Ealing with a troubled personal life
and Dusty Springfield the star. Except the only bit of drama in Dusty is the revelation that she had a
homosexual affair, causing gasps of “I didn’t know she was a lesbian!” from the
audience. The problem is, the writers don’t have the confidence to make this lesbian
drama the focus of the narrative; instead it feels like a shoehorned in plotline
purely for shock value. Equally Dusty is
a tale of lost friendships, about the price of fame, about the conflict between
public and private personas. It’s also none of these things.
At the very least there are some spirited vocal
performances, even if the cast lazily phone in some cringe-worthy dialogue. Alison
Arnopp as Dusty and Francesca Jackson as Nancy, in particular, deliver powerful
versions of Springfield’s output (when they can be heard), even though some
weirdly modern and sexual choreography from the ensemble dancers threatens to
steal their thunder. It’s Witney White as Martha Reeves who eventually shows
some true star power – just as in real life, it takes a black soul
singer to show these white girls how it’s done. Perhaps the cast are incapable
of actually performing underneath the hilariously gargantuan wigs they’ve been
dressed in?
Dusty is trying to
be a reverent homage to the late pop-soul singer. Instead, it’s just
offensively bland. More than anything, that’s just sad.
1/5
Watch: Dusty runs
at the Charing Cross Theatre until 21st November.
Photo: Elliott Franks