The Commitments as a show is at its strongest when the band is in its infancy and are rehearsing (believably rough and anarchic) and then playing their first gig in the community hall slot vacated by the bingo (more polished, but full of raw soul).
Ian Mcintosh is a more than authentic frontman Deco with the laid-back charisma dripping off him as he works the Grand Opera House audience and casually struts around the stage scratching his belly. It’s a mystery – or testament to his control and talent – that his voice holds up on two-show days.
When Deco’s running late, the three Commitmentettes – Ciara Mackey/Emelda (previously on the Grand Opera House stage as the Lady of the Lake in
Spamalot), Eve Kitchingman/Natalie and Sarah Gardiner/Bernie – ably give him a run for his money with their blended harmonies and stylish choreography (giving it all the elbows). And when Deco is back on stage, the backing trio really lift the vocals and make The Commitments sound like a properly produced band.
There’s on-stage brass from Stuart Reid’s trumpet and Conor Litten’s saxophone (technically woodwind, but still shiny!) along with keys from Stephen O’Riain (beautiful accompaniment for the haunting rendition of Otis Redding’s Mr. Pitiful) and drummer Ryan Kelly. Michael Mahony’s guitar and Guy Freeman’s bass make up the rest of the band along with musical director George Francis. There may be other off-stage musicians, but since the venue no longer provides reviewers with printed programmes, that remains another unsolved mystery …
Holding the rag tag bunch of musicians and singers together is Jimmy Rabbitte (James Killeen) who rather sweetly gets his own song in the untidy second half. Ronnie Yorke deserves a larger bow for his comedy bouncer Mickay.
The vitality of the musical performances is in sharp contrast with some rather flat dialogue that glues the scenes together. The concept of soul (and its relationship with sex and politics, ridin’ and the people) is overexplained, dramatic pauses hold on too long, and the end of the story is terribly abrupt but disguised by a pantomime callout to the audience and a mandatory stand up and clap along to the final chain of hits … which are worth the adulation. The final, final encore, in particular is a cracker worth waiting for. But next time Roddy Doyle is in the back of my car – which happened last year, a long story – I’ll be bending his ear about his writing for musical theatre!
Tim Blazdell’s dingy, concrete, high-rise flats set rather skilfully unfolds itself, with Jimmy’s flat effortlessly appearing along with his wise-but-ignored father (Nigel Pivaro, previously know to soap fans as Terry Duckworth) at regular intervals. On-stage drumkits on wheeled platforms often slow down musical shows, but
The Commitments has mastered the mechanics and stagecraft necessary to get mics, amps and maracas in place without fuss. Great use of an electric scooter too (other than its hard to believe role in the plot’s conclusion). And keep an eye out for the unusually precise overhead lighting design that picks out individual cast members in crowded ensemble scenes to direct your attention to the most important action. Rather classy work by lighting designer Jason Taylor who also has to build in concert effects for the final medley.
High points include the covers of Four Tops’
Reach Out I'll Be There and The Persuaders’
Thin Line Between Love and Hate, together with the realisation that
Heard it on the Grapevine should forever more be sung with a bag of hot chips in your hand (and mouth). Director Andrew Linnie works the cast of 20 very hard over the two and a half hours, and overall
the Dublin humour and the strong music carries a show whose plot is
wafer thin.
The Commitments continues in the Grand Opera House until Saturday 25 February.
Photo credits: Ellie Kurttz
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