A
Nasty Business
As I'm waiting at the stage door of the Palladium to be shown
up to Richard O'Brien's dressing-room, a young woman walks in
and pipes to the doorkeeper in a tiny, childish voice "Hello,
it's me again." In reply, the doorkeeper adopts a mock-militarybark,
to which she responds in deep, Mike Reid cockney; and I cringe
slightly and remember why I don't spend time hanging around
theatres...
And then I am welcomed in by Richard O'Brien, and we sit down
and within two minutes he is telling me how lucky he is to be
working on this show and particularly in this theatre, this
wonderful space, and I start to wonder whether next time it
wouldn'tbe worth interviewing a tax accountant or perhaps somebody
in local government, sterling fellows whose work deserves more
recognition.
It soon turns out that I have gravely underestimated him, though,
as he comes out with some acerbic and rather funny and penetrating
comments about the show he is so lucky to be in. This is Chitty
Chitty Bang Bang, which has been adapted for the stagefrom the
much-loved children's film by the multi-talented Jeremy Sams,
and is being directed by Adrian Noble. With that pedigree it
all sounds very promising, and so far, O'Brien says, the audiences
have loved it: "I've never known audiences like this."At
the first public preview - which was only the third time they
had run through the entire show - it was clear as soon as the
audience came into the auditorium and sat down that they had
decided to like it, and it would have taken a determined effort
bythe cast to stop them.
And so it has gone
on. O'Brien is not expecting an easy ride from the critics when
the show opens next Tuesday; but neither is he expecting the
critics to make a blind bit of difference. The point about Chitty
Chitty Bang Bang, he thinks, is that itworks at a level that
defies analysis.
"In terms of
the 100 greatest musicals, it isn't even going to chart, "
he says. "I mean, `Truly Scrumptious' - a number which,
truly, if you suffer from diabetes you shouldn't be allowed
to watch." He trills out a couple of lines by way of demonstration-
"`Troooly Scrumptious, you're truly, truly scrumptious
- scrumptious as the wind acrawss the baaaaaay' - or something
like that."
He widens his eyes
and bares his teeth in a manic parody of innocence and joy,
and with his bald head and gaunt figure and tremulous falsetto
the effect is, in all honesty, quite sinister; but you take
his point: when the motherless Potts children,Jeremy and Jemima,
are singing it to the beautiful and strangely maternal Miss
Truly Scrumptious, it could seem sugary.
But, he goes on,
"it doesn't cloy, at the end of the day". He attributes
that fact to the genius of the Sherman brothers, who wrote the
songs for this, as for Mary Poppins and The Jungle Book: "They
do tread the path of the truly awful, and win. `Feedthe birds,
tuppence a bag' - another song that should make us cringe."
They are masters, he thinks, of "the great art of simplicity
- ego-free simplicity is when greatness takes place."
O'Brien, you will
be relieved to hear, has not been cast as Truly Scrumptious.
He is the Child Catcher, the evil functionary who keeps the
Mitteleuropean barony of Vulgaria child-free, and who since
the film was first released in 1968 has beenresponsible for
a good deal of behind-the-sofa quivering and middle-of-the-night
moaning and screaming. For O'Brien, Robert Helpmann's twinkle-toed
sadist is definitive, and it is his duty to stick closely to
the spirit of it; but he doesn' t attempt astraight imitation.
Apart from anything else, he doesn' t think he could dance that
well. But, he says, "I bring a kind of spidery movement.
I'm not unaware that - I sound as if I'm blowing my own trumpet
here - I have the ability to move in a dance-likemanner. I exploit
that ability as much as I can. I know what the character needs
and I try to provide it. I think that so far I'm 90 per cent
there. There's another 10 or 15 per cent to go on top of what
I'm doing at the moment."
The Shermans have
given him a new song, "Kiddy Widdy Winkies": "I
can't see or hear them, but smell that I'm near them, those
dear, sweet kiddy widdy winkies... I sense their presence, I
smell their essence..." He doesn't have Helpmann's battered
tophat, but instead a peculiar flick of hair at the front and
what he describes as a strange sort of comb-over. This is something
of a come-down for a man who, by his own account, helped to
make baldness acceptable: when he first shaved his head in the
lateSixties, the only well-known baldies were Yul Brynner and
Telly Savalas. Thirty years on, the look has served him well.
It was his birthday a couple of weeks ago, and the homepage
of his fan-club, The New Richard O'Brien Crusade, offers this
tribute:" Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,
though you've just turned 60 you look 32!" Well, a bit
more than that; but he does look remarkably youthful, in a chemo-therapy
kind of a way.
The Child Catcher
is, he points out, a kind of Nazi functionary, a Mengele or
an Eichmann - part of the charm of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang is
that it appeals to British xenophobia: "Nothing wrong with
that, it's a much- maligned, primal activity thateverybody's
engaged in one way or another, it's innate, it's in the nature
of the beast." But he has also tried to bring to the part
"the fetid air of The Cabinet of Dr Caligari - all that
German Expressionist stuff", as well as Arthur Rackham.
Afterall, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang is a very traditional fairy
tale - the flying car is the seven-league boots or the magic
carpet; the Child Catcher is the wicked witch, Truly Scrumptious
is the good fairy; and, of course, there is the pair of lost
children -like Hansel and Gretel, I suggest. "Which is
a re-telling of Eden," he comes back, "which is what
I did in Rocky Horror with Brad and Janet."
I'm relieved that
he brings up this subject himself, saving me the trouble: I
had thought that after nearly 30 years of being defined purely
as Mr Rocky Horror Show, he might feel that it was an albatross
round his neck. But he looks surprised: "If youhad written
a best- selling novel, and it meant that any time you wanted
five minutes of somebody's time the doors were open and the
royalties kept coming in year after year, why would you be anything
but proud?" People, he sighs, are so ready to piss ontheir
own parties. He has no sympathy: "To wake up, be a sentient
being - you cannot get a greater gift than this." A well-adjusted
human being, I thought; and interesting. Next time I want some
children scaring, I would be happy to send for him.
`Chitty Chitty Bang
Bang' opens on Tuesday at the London Palladium (0870 890 1108)
Robert Hanks, A nasty business. , Independent, 04-12-2002, pp
8,9.