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Theatre Review It’s Piaf alright, but...

LYNNE WALSH leaves the theatre rueing the many imperfections of a production that should have promised so much more

Hymn to Love
Jermyn Street Theatre
London SW1
★★★

It’s often tricky to pinpoint where the gaps are in a production, but there’s something fundamental and important missing here.

Elizabeth Mansfield, delivering no fewer than 15 of Edith Piaf’s finest songs, is incredibly skilled — her delivery is flawless.

Hymn to Love is a challenging undertaking, neither musical theatre nor “tribute act.” It presents some insight into the life of La Mome Piaf [The Little Sparrow]. Abandoned at birth by her mother, she later neglected her own baby who died aged two. Betrayed lover, victim of violence, consumed by grief after the love of her life died in a plane crash.

There was always the sense that her frail body could not carry the weight of such emotional pain. The fact that she could stand in front of an audience at all, let alone belt out her heartache, is a huge part of Piaf’s enduring thrill.

Her affair with boxing champion Marcel Cerdan dominates this 90-minute piece. Though it lasted for a short time — summer 1948 to his death in autumn 1949 — the relationship consumed Piaf, who was inspired to write Hymne a L’amour.

The music is extraordinarily beautiful, of course, often haunting, sometimes music-hall funny. Pianist Patrick Bridgman is perfect, not only musically, but as Piaf’s long-suffering foil. He pours her drink, a tiny dash of whisky. Each one she pours for herself is a hefty glug. There’s no reproach from him, only a sigh and a slump of the shoulders.

There is frailty here, but Mansfield may be too assured to show us Piaf’s breaking points. There are glimpses, as in L’accordeoniste, ending with the wail “Arretez la musique!” when the memory of a dead lover is too painful.

Even the jaunty madness of Padam, padam reminds us of the real Little Sparrow, singing as if she were howling at her gaoler to set her free.

C’est a Hambourg really showcases Mansfield’s talent. Her award-winning role as musical theatre star Marie Lloyd some years ago was superb. Here again is the innuendo, the sparkle in the eye, making a come-on both innocent and lascivious.

The finale is, naturally, Je ne regrette rien, and it’s a huge relief to have this anthem sung in French. All others in this production are in English, an understandable decision by the theatre, accessibility being the name of the game.

The English translations, from the pen of the talented Steve Trafford, are too prosaic. Perhaps for the required angst, the real gut-wrenching pain of this woman, or indeed any woman, it’s a woman’s experiences that are needed to find the words to do justice to the beaten, brave Piaf and what her life meant.

Ends August 18 2018. Box office: jermynstreettheatre.co.uk

 

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