What’s this? Sweet Charity, a 1960’s Broadway classic, famous for its hit Big Spender- the 1969 film immortalised by Oscar-winning Shirley Maclaine – chosen to re-open Vienna Volksoper after months of lockdown. The musical and film were notable for Bob Fosse’s (Cabaret) spectacular choreography. His collaborators are witty dramatist Neil Simon, songwriter Dorothy Fields, with black composer Cy Coleman’s score oscillating between jazz, gospel and pop. But Charity Hope Valentine is a ‘taxigirl’, so are we reviving outdated stereotypes? Not so! Fosse was adapting Fellini’s Nights of Cabiria, (a Roman ‘prostitute’), into a New York musical comedy. Charity’s an innocent, who despite exploitation, ‘never gives up her belief in the good of mankind’; supported by three women friends, her sisters. It’s the 1960s, the birth of a new spirit – magical, life-affirming- defying convention, (‘Hair’), and the birth of ‘Feminism’.
A video montage of New York scenes- like a trailer for ‘Manhattan’-with a medley of the show’s famous songs, including, of course ‘Big Spender’. A blacked-out stage, as if in a club; dancers darting about with torches, very clever choreography. Charity (Lisa Habermann) faces the audience. Scatty, she’s been unlucky in love. (Did she say on internet sites?) Habermann has lots of energy, punchy vocals; but superficial, a stage personality, not a real character I could identify with.
The young guys look cool in black, one-piece outfits, she in a tight mini-skirt, in one of many stylish dance sequences. But here the music is of an age- swing, Big Band, Volksoper Orchestra conducted by Lorenz C. Aichner superlative, jn recreating Cy Coleman’s score, with impeccable jazz timing.
Video screens show psychedelic images -(remember it’s 1966 the age of LSD, Haight Ashbury)- appearing as if underwater, a woman (Charity) surfacing. Now snow falling. Habermann fronts the next dance sequence: plastic raincoats, yellow, pink, orange, purple, very mod. the Mary Quant era, that was the 60s, that was.
Creepy xylophones, muted trumpets, with a Pink Panther-like theme: middle brow jazz, but sensationally played by the very stylish Volksoper Orchestra. It swings, but maybe to the wrong beat for the late 60s, the birth of progressive rock.
In the plot, Charity, working as a ‘dance hostess’, looks as if she’s being mugged -head pushed down- by Charlie, one of her lovers. ‘An accident’, she tells her friends Nickie, Helene, and Carmen. Charity describes herself as ‘a social worker for eight years’; she wanted to marry, but always got the wrong man.
In the brilliant stage design, director Johannes Matuschka, the letters SWEET CHARITY in neon are upturned through the show, symbolising her disordered existence; or used as props. so the ‘E’, upturned, is where Nicki (Julia Koci), and Helene (Caroline Frank) listen to Charity’s story of how her affairs didn’t work out.
The club manager Herman (Christian Graff) gets them back to work on the dance floor: the cue for Hey Big Spender. The brass entree builds into the number, with these girls giving their stories in snappy narratives. The video screen rear stage (fettFilm) is like a gaming machine, constantly changing icons. Do you want to have fun, fun, fun. How’s about a few laughs But they distort it. ‘Laughs, have a good time’ seems embittered, ironic. But wouldn’t you like to know what’s going on in my mind? Big Spender, so familiar, is in English. Otherwise it’s a German version, since 1970’s premier with Dagmar Koller. But there’s a lot of dialogue. Simon’s lyrics were witty, brilliant NY humour. But so far no laughter from this audience.
The next scene, her tryst with film producer Vittoria Vidal, follows her wandering the streets, to witness a row with his girl Ursula. Charity seems to faint, and he takes her back to his luxury apartment. Axel Herig’s Vidal pseud-intellectual is peroxide blond, heavy frames; his blue velvet suit toning with the scruffy sky-blue coat she’s wearing. Star-struck, she passes out in his flat from partying. Afte wining and dining, she has to hide in a closet when jealous Ursula returns. The buxom, over-the-top Ines Hengl-Pirker actually kisses him (in the age of Covid?)
The good time girls Nickie and Helene can’t work out why Charity spent the night with Vidal, and has nothing to show for it. Together they sing ‘there’s gotta be something better than this‘, a sort of Girl-Power anthem.
Better even, a spectacular Latin dance routine, reminiscent of Leonard Bernstein’s funky Latin jazz, enhanced by innovative lighting- a fan of white light through a ballroom pendant.
There’s a change of tone- Simon’s dramatic input- when Charity goes for a job interview. The interviewer keeps trimming a house plant, while firing questions at her: she’s no qualifications. She only wants a ‘normal’ job to change her life around.
Escaping into a lift, she’s stuck in with Oscar Lindqist (Peter Lesiak), when the lift breaks down. (The lift cleverly designed to tilt on its axis.) Lesiak’s Oscar is a control freak, a ‘straight guy’ in a conventional suit, who has a panic attack. Laughs for the first time as Oscar goes hysterical. Charity socks him one on the jaw to calm him down. Oscar complains about his ‘blockage in social situations’, but invites her to a gospel concert at a church.
Opening Act 2 is the real show stopper, a giant hit in 1969, Rhythm of Life (Flee to Daddy). There are girls with blonde candy-floss hair, the ‘religious order’ donning multicoloured satin gowns.The Chorus (Volksoper’s) are again sensational.
Daddy Brubeck (Drew Sarich), head of the Order, has proclaimed himself as a god. It’s obviously a mock on the celeb religious sects of the late 1960s, the time of Charles Manson.) Sarich, with shaved head, looks incredibly skinny, boasting abdominal six-pack, rippling muscles and tattoos.
There’s a remarkable plinth, a turntable stage, where Lesiak sings to ‘Sweet Charity’, she’s like no other woman. Tenor Lesiak’s delivery is ok, if a little strained. But he’s also an impressive comic actor. He’d like to see Charity again. But Nicki and Helene want to know if she’s told her new man about her work in the Club, Charity’s ‘Man for life’ may have problems with her ‘job for particular hours.’
They throw a party for Charity. It’s loud, noisy, Graff’s Manager camps around. All OTT. Oscar arrives, the straight ill at ease. He can’t do it. Marry her. He’s got a problem with her other men in his head.
Again good video effects, as it ends in a recurrent dream. She, Charity, underwater, surfaces with a look of triumphant affirmation. She is who she is: Charity Hope Valentine. The closing number, ‘If my friends could see me now’, one of the show’s best, is one you can’t get out of your head.
Some perennial songs, spectacular dance routines, but except for Lesiak’s Oscar, ‘drama’ is lacking. Habermann, a glam queen, but no character actress, misses the pathos of Charity. And no German translation can do justice to Simon’s unique New York humour. No wonder there are no English subtitles. © P.R. 22.09.2020
Photos: Lisa Habermann (Charity Hope Valentine) © Johannes Ifkovits / Volksoper Wien
Caroline Frank (Helene), Julia Koci (Nickie), Lisa Habermann (Charity); Drew Sarich (Daddy Brubeck), with Chorus; Header Lisa Habermann, Chorus
© Barbara Pálffy/ Volksoper Wien