Writer: Christopher Isherwood
Adaptor: Jonathan Watkins
Director: Jonathan Watkins
Music: John Grant & Jasmin Kent Rodgman
The Manchester International Festival recipe for success: bring together some less than obvious collaborators to create a new work that premieres at the Festival then does the rounds in the UK and internationally. People in Manchester still talk about 2015’s Tree of Codes, the creation of Olafur Eliasson, Wayne McGregor and Jamie xx. Aviva Studios opening show Free Your Mind brought together Danny Boyle, Boy Blue, Es Devlin and Gareth Pugh. While it’s always difficult to predict what will be the stand out show of the Festival, the one that everyone remembers, A Single Man may well be it, thanks to its fantastic pedigree – the Royal Ballet, Jonathan Watkins, John Grant, Manchester Collective – but it’s not without its flaws.
Christopher Isherwood’s A Single Man is a brave, beautiful novel which charts a day in the life of a gay British man living and working in California in the 1960s. After the death of his partner in a car accident, he is torn between debilitating grief and a love of life. The story was brought to a more contemporary audience with the well-respected 2009 film starring Colin Firth, but while it brilliantly portrayed much of the melancholy and atmosphere of the novel, the inner voice of the novel was somewhat lost. Adapting it in dance and music, then, which requires less narrative form, certainly has potential, and there are some truly beautiful scenes in this production, but there’s a desperate and unnecessary need in much of Watkin’s Direction and Choreography and Chiara Stephenson’s design to stick to the narrative. We don’t need a neon sign that says ‘bar’ to know where George (Ed Watson) and Kenny are drinking. In fact, we don’t need them doing almost comical drinking actions either, or a writing mime (the one you do across a restaurant to ask for the bill) to understand that Kenny is leaving a note as he tiptoes out of George’s house after a passionate evening. We certainly don’t need John Grant standing inside a big neon head to understand that his words are George’s inner monologue. It’s all just a bit too obvious.
But putting these clumsy creative decisions aside, there is a lot to like. While Isherwood’s novel has a lot more light and shade than this re-imagining – Watkins has mostly focused on the darkness and it’s a bit humourless – but there is a cheeky, sexy tennis match, a beautifully choreographed scene where George and his friend Charley get falling over drunk. And everything comes together perfectly in a gorgeously evocative (not quite) naked swimming scene.
Chiara Stephenson’s ‘airfix kit’ design cleverly suggests the idea of George putting his life back together but does make the stage feel unnecessarily cluttered, but Simisola Majekodunmi’s lighting design works well with it, creating a sumptuous atmosphere, and results in interesting shadows across the stage and auditorium walls. Eleanor Bull and Holly Waddington provide costumes that seamlessly transform from cute 1960s student skirts and slacks to fleshy, visceral bodysuits.
What really pulls all of this together, though, is the music. A tremendous score by Jasmin Kent Rodgman perfectly reflects the dissonance of the novel’s modernist style and the raw emotion of the story. It’s flawlessly brought to life by Manchester Collective and interspersed seamlessly with John Grant’s mournful, emotive songs, performed live by the man himself. Even if you sat with your eyes closed this would be worth the price of a ticket.
Runs until 6 July 2025
