THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
Music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim; book by John Weidman; additional material Hugh Wheeler
A co-production with Umeda Arts Theater, Japan at Menier Chocolate Factory, London SE1, until February 24, 2024
www.menierchocolatefactory.com
Pacific Overtures is one of Stephen Sondheim's most ambitious creations. It opened on Broadway in January 1976 to a radically divergent critical and audience response. For some a masterpiece, for others a bore. This was unfair because, like all great shows which break new ground, it needs more than one production to get it right. It's been revived infrequently since then and seems to fare best, as here, in smaller spaces. Both the Broadway and London premieres (the latter by ENO) were thought too grand and ponderous in scale. This revival sparks new interest because it opened in Tokyo and Osaka last spring to great success.
It centers on four American warships which appeared in Tokyo Bay in 1853 to force Japan, a nation which had sealed itself off from the rest of the world since 1603, to open itself up to contact and commerce with the United States. The book then follows the subsequent changes which led to Japan's emergence as a dominant trading power 120 years later.
A challenging topic for a musical, but then Sondheim was never one to repeat himself. A great believer in form following content he devised a show which combined elements of conventional musical theater and fused it with the vivid and highly stylized techniques of Kabuki. The point of view was also radical because they chose to tell the story totally from the Japanese perspective and, very unusually for 1976, insisted on casting Asian actors, so the conceit would work.
With the score Sondheim challenged himself in trying to approximate as best he could the Japanese pentatonic scale and for the lyrics he employed simple language with very few rhymes. As the score progresses though, and as Japan opens up, the music becomes more Western, culminating in in the glorious 'Admirals' number, where visiting emissaries from USA, Britain, Holland, Russia and France perform music hall numbers which ape their national styles, so we get pastiches of Gilbert & Sullivan and Offenbach's 'Can-Can'.
Ayako Maeda's costumes here are a joy. They employ the 'paper' ships of the opening number in the costumes for the Admirals, so they prance about in their boats with a flag gaily flying from the rear. Paul Farnsworth has designed the show for a traverse stage so we get ornate Japanese frames instead of full screens, and Leo Flint's video animations are an excellent addition. The slyly witty 'Welcome to Kanagawa' number, which introduces us to the Geishas and their game Madam (Saori Oda), is an explosion of red.
At its heart this is a chamber piece with the focus on the central friendship between Kayama and Manjiro. Kayama (Takuro Ohno) is a minor Samurai and a traditionalist who over the period of 15 years becomes a progressive and Westernized governor of Uraga, and Manjiro (Joaquin Pedro Valdes) a shipwrecked fisherman who returns from the US full of excitement but over the same time evolves into a reactionary Samurai, intent on expelling the invaders.
Kayama's number 'A Bowler Hat' is particularly striking. As it moves through ten years of his life story it perfectly encapsulates his growing affluence and westernization.
The danger with the piece is that it can become a history lesson, when in fact Weidman's book has wry wit and lots of personality. Director Matthew White underlines all that and gives it pace but running it without an interval makes it all feel too rushed.
Musical Supervisor Catherine Jayes has delicately adapted Jonathan Tunick's original orchestrations to draw out even more of the Japanese influences and there are glorious (and very British) close harmonies in the famous 'Pretty Lady'.
As it's a big show the tight ensemble here has to triple-up on roles which does push their limits at times and the show always faces the challenge of securing as cast who are authentic but also have the perfect diction for Sondheim's tongue twisters. Sometimes audibility is a problem for the leads.
The show's most famous number 'Someone in a Tree' is a glorious, Rashomon-like, multiple perspective recounting of what happened at that Tree House on a beach that day when the Americans and the Japanese signed a treaty. 'The Room Where It Happened' in Hamilton owes so much to it.