I Can Die Too theatre review: Funny and poignant
A play within a play that runs against the clock to make a full impact
Deep inside this new piece of musical theatre is a sweet show desperately trying to find its legs. All the components have been assembled to build a fun, emotive reflection on life, love and the pursuit of a good performance. But almost everything needs to be sharper, more crystalline. Frances Ruffelle is the beating heart at the centre of this production, but five strong arteries surround her in the form of talented actor/musicians. Together, they deliver a ‘play within a play’ that takes place in two separate worlds: Jean Cocteau’s one-woman show, The Human Voice, and the backstage traumas of said show, which is soon to open but is clearly far from ready.
Cocteau’s tragic heroine is reeling from the telephoned news that her lover is to marry another, while actor Lily (Ruffelle) is consumed by the memory of a daughter she gave up for adoption years ago (and the man she conceived her with, who may or may not still be on the scene). All of which leads to a couple of nice reveals, and a laudable burst of feminist angst at Cocteau’s original text, which suggests life without a man is no life at all.
Nothing digs down quite far enough to hit gold, however. Partly because the show races through the narrative, coming in at a brief 75 minutes, much of which is devoted to song. The desire to challenge Cocteau’s text, the quest to embody a three-dimensional character on stage, the lament for lost loves (both romantic and familial), all need more oxygen and room to grow. But the show has to find space for nine songs, created by 12 different writers, and there just isn’t time. Ever since she played the original Éponine in Les Misérables back in 1985, Ruffelle has known how to carry a tune, and this show is no exception. So while much praise can be lavished on Ruffelle and the five musicians that surround her for their delivery, the songs themselves (some squarely hitting bullseye, some doing a serviceable job, and one or two feeling incongruous) feel like the centrepiece, leaving the book a little underwritten.
Simon Kenny’s set, on the other hand, gives us everything we need. There’s a clever nod to Cocteau’s play (a frill of hanging telephones encompassing a double bed), and he houses the band in a framed structure that brings them in and out of focus as required. More room to breathe, and this funny and poignant tale (I won’t be the only one who had tears in their eyes at the final reveal) could easily learn to live.
I Can Die Too, Pitlochry Festival Theatre, until 2 August; picture: Tommy Ga-Ken Wan.