Writer: F Scott Fitzgerald (adapted by Leopold Benedict)
Director: Leopold Benedict
In a desperate effort to attract the lovely Daisy Buchanan, mysterious millionaire Jay Gatsby buys an opulent Gothic mansion across the water from her house and throws extravagant parties. The Great Gatsby was published 100 years ago this April. F Scott Fitzgerald’s masterpiece is a story of passion and exploitation, brutal reality and luxurious illusions. This pacy, perfectly cast staging conveys the novel’s luminous compound of yearning and wonder. It combines the literary lyricism and metaphysics of the text with songs, dancing and dynamic theatricality.
As narrator Nick Carraway, Alex Figueiredo addresses key passages directly to the audience. Leopold Benedict’s brilliant adaptation keeps these brief and vital, counterpoising them with music and movement. We never see a house, proper furniture, or a full-size car and yet mansions, steam trains, motorcars and Jay Gatsby’s fabulous parties are conjured up through lively ensemble work.
After touring Eastern Europe with their low-budget high-octane foxtrot through Fitzgerald’s iconic novel, this talented cast and crew arrive in Camberwell. The ephemeral glamour of 1920s New York is crammed into an 83-seat theatre behind the Golden Goose pub. Singing, dancing and miming, the cast are forever morphing from human to animal to machine, male to female, joyful to lovelorn and beyond: all while waltzing and Charleston-ing across the stage to Aila Floyd’s quickfire choreography.
The ever-shifting glitter of sequins and creativity more than compensates for the lack of huge sets or orchestras. With violins, guitars and tuneful voices, these seven actors intersperse Gatsby’s story with evocative songs from the Roaring Twenties like Ain’t We Got Fun, Tea for Two and The Best Things in Life Are Free. Saskia Marguerite’s voice is particularly enchanting and contrasts with her languorous physicality as socialite-golfer Jordan Baker.
Benedict, who also directs, plays the title role with a flawless mix of swagger and longing. In his production notes, he writes that: “Where Jay Gatsby, the moniker, is redolent of jazz, pizzaz, and razzmatazz, James Gatz, the character, has a journey far more Romantic in nature.” This sense of a deeper, wilder impetus underlying the character’s polished veneer haunts and illuminates Benedict’s charismatic interpretation. Gatsby’s elegant pink suit glows among Ruth Norwood’s stylish costumes. Benedict also plays the flamboyant Catherine as a drag queen in fake fur coat and turban.
The Great Gatsby has its roots in a very specific time and place. But this production also highlights the renewed relevance of several heavyweight themes including racism, war, greed, materialism. Near the start, an explosion of sound and light and fleeting tableau of scattered corpses represents the First World War. Soon afterwards, the narcissistic Tom Buchanan (Andrew Mockler) expounds white supremacist views that sound frighteningly similar to those of some present-day Republicans. He interrupts and assaults with bombastic violence and the awkward pause after his words is one of the well-judged moments when unstinting action lapses into pregnant silence.
“Open the whiskey, Tom. And I’ll make you a mint julep. Then you won’t seem so stupid to yourself,” Daisy tells him later. There are plenty of comic moments to leaven the perennial foreboding. The puppy that Tom buys for his mistress Myrtle Wilson (Eloise O’Connor) is a playfully puppeteered toy dog. Voices on the other end of a phone line are mimicked by a kazoo. In straw boaters, beaded headpieces or jester’s caps, the cast switch hats and roles dozens of times without sacrificing the individual characterisation.
The women are given more space and autonomy than in Fitzgerald’s original and female cast members also double as police officers, soldiers, gardeners, and musicians. Lois Baglin as Daisy sparklingly conveys both the golden girl with a “voice full of money” and a complicated woman with limited agency and deep, unresolvable sadness. Her eyes often glitter with unshed tears and she comments sadly: “That’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.” Touching, twinkling and satirical, this slickly-staged Gatsby celebrates the novel’s centenary in style.
Reviewed on 11 January 2025