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Let no man say that the Menier Chocolate Factory is not ambitious. While something of a cult venue, this theatre, fashioned out of a chocolate factory built in south London in the 1870s, is nevertheless cramped and basic. Its decision to stage a big, brassy musical such as La Cage aux Folles is akin to the old girls of the Bournemouth Townswomen's Guild suddenly getting it into their heads to re- enact every one of the principal dogfights of the Battle of Britain.
I would like to be able to say that the Menier's offering is magnifique, if not quite la guerre, but that would not be true. It isn't just that this production doesn't fit into its venue, it doesn't fit into 2008 either. It was considered awfully big of audiences to sing along to this musical when it came out in London – no pun intended – in the mid- 1980s in a production at the London Palladium that starred the late Denis Quilley. Now Harvey Fierstein's story (based on a French play by Jean Poiret) seems patronising and jaundiced. So Georges and Albin – the proprietors of the transvestite nightclub of the title – are gay? Big deal.
It's the same as Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn discovering in the film Guess Who's Coming to Dinner that their daughter is marrying a man who is black. No doubt La Cage, like that 1967 film, was brave in its time and might even have broken down some barriers; but, now that its central premise no longer has the power to raise a well- plucked eyebrow, what, honestly, is the point of it? It is not as if we haven't had quite a few gay- themed plays and musicals in the capital lately.
That is not to say that I did not warm to the cast who, under considerable pressure, acquit themselves with grace. The best of the necessarily bonsai performances comes from Philip Quast as Georges, the owner of La Cage. His boyfriend, Albin, is a drag queen, played by Douglas Hodge, who looks at different points like Dame Barbara Cartland, Ena Sharples, Les Dawson and – I hope this is not deliberate – the Home Secretary, Jacqui Smith.
Jean- Michel, the son that Georges sired by an unseen showgirl named Angela, is adequately played but poorly sung by Neil McDermott. Alicia Davies has a dull time of it as his fiancée, Anne, with no great lines. Iain Mitchell is, however, very effective as Anne's father, a Right- wing politician, whose wife is played, somewhat bizarrely, by Una Stubbs.
All the big numbers are here – 'I Am What I Am', 'Look Over There', etc – but big numbers in small venues always sound a bit tinny. It is the same with drag acts: Albin and Les Cagelles – the 'girls' who perform with him – just aren't quite the same when you can see them close up.
This is the third version I have seen of this story. Denis Quilley's extravaganza had a big budget and novelty value; the 1996 film version called The Birdcage worked because of the clever idea to switch the action from the French Riviera to Miami and some great photography; but this production, directed by Terry Johnson, felt more like a rather indifferent cabaret.
'Judas, traitor, heterosexual,' Albin (PQG: Georges) shouts at Jean- Michel when he discovers the boy he has brought up is marrying a woman. I read in the paper the other day of a heterosexual lady who successfully sued for victimisation when she was bullied in this way in a gay nightclub. Albin needs to be careful; and this show – if it is to be staged again – has to get in step with the times.
© Telegraph Group Limited
