Stage: Warrior queens

Frankie Goes to Bollywood
director & book Pravesh Kumar
music Niraj Chag • lyrics Tasha Taylor Johnson
costumes Andy Kumar • sets Rebecca Brower
with Laila Zaidi, Helen K Wint, Navin Kundra, Katie Stasi, Gigi Zahir, Geet Sagar, Qoobi Robinson, Nikita Johal, Dhruv Ravi, Anna Maria Barber, Tamara Verhoven Clyde, Hari Chandresh, Kuldeep Goswami, Tash Bacarese-Hamilton, Catherine Puri, A'isha Verhulst
Queen Elizabeth Hall, London • 31.Jul-18.Aug.24 ★★★★

Making the very most of richly hued lighting and lavish costumes, this lively musical tells a terrific story about a bright young woman who gets caught up in movie stardom. This may sound familiar, but the plot is actually a celebration of integrity and inner strength, complete with an energetic cast, witty dialog and gorgeous design elements. And while it remains celebratory and bouncy, the show also takes on darker aspects of the Bollywood film industry, from the way productions have been run like mob families to the prejudicial treatment of women.

The story opens in England as young Milton Keynes cinema employee Frankie (Laila Zaidi) imagines her late mother as a star of the epic Indian musicals she can't stop watching over and over again. This makes her feel closer to her mum and her ethnic heritage, but she has no desire to perform herself. Her best pal Goldy (Katie Stasi), on the other hand, is yearning for a chance to sing and act. So it's a bit tense when Frankie inadvertently lands the Bollywood role Goldy was auditioning for. And now Franking heads off to Mumbai, meeting her implausibly young-looking costar, the veteran actor Raju (Geet Sagar). But filmmaker Prem (Kundra) finds his ambitious script watered down by the "family" that controls the industry. And Frankie has little choice as she's propelled into mega-stardom.

All of this is frequently punctuated with lavish musical numbers that are choreographed in fine Bollywood style, with some sparkly new flourishes. Then in the show's second half, more serious issues emerge as Frankie begins to push back against the restrictive contract she signed. The question is whether she can recapture her bond with Goldy. And will she end up tossed aside like Raju's previous superstar partner Malika (Wint)? This raises larger issues around men who hang on to power, refusing to allow women to make their own decisions. So Frankie's inner drive fuels a lively revolution.

The cavernous Queen Elizabeth Hall kind of swallows this show, especially when viewed from seats high up in the back, where nuanced performances (or the song lyrics) are difficult to catch. The staging is relatively simple, with a single versatile set standing in for various locations, augmented by lots of coloured lights and a steady stream of glorious costumes (tricks with vast expanses of fabric are stunning). The emphasis is on the talented ensemble of dancers, who shape the scenes beautifully and play a range of superb supporting roles, including swaggering social media star Timmy (Robinson) and Frankie's eager assistant Mandy (Johal), who really wants to write scripts centred around powerful females. 

Enjoyably, the story's romantic elements surge and twist in original directions, while the main plot heads elsewhere. Each scene is livened up by a sharp sense of humour, often thanks to fabulous scene-stealer Gigi Zahir as the film crew's wonderfully snappy choreographer Shona. So even if the underlying themes are seriously pointed, giving the show a kick of urgency, the show remains joyful. With its cleverly British perspective, this is an open-handed expression of love for Bollywood movies, what they've meant in the past and how much more they can be in a hopeful future.

For info, RIFCO THEATRE >

photos by Rich Lakos • 2.Aug.24

Stage: I wanna live forever

Fame Wh*re
writer-director Tom Ratcliffe
performer-lyricist Gigi Zahir
producer Sarah Allen
set Alys Whitehead
lighting Hugo Dodsworth
King's Head Theatre, Islington • 5-29.Oct.22

Cleverly riffing on the idea that today's youth believe that they deserve to be famous, this one-person show bristles with huge ideas relating to social media and reality television. And while it centres around a hilarious drag act, with a constant barrage of razor-sharp punchlines, it's ultimately a remarkably dark story that spirals into a series of painful emotions. Most importantly, writer Tom Ratcliffe never tries to elicit the audience's sympathy.

That job is left to performer Gigi Zahir, aka Crayola the Queen, who plays Becky Biro with an entitled sense of desperation. Becky knows that she will be a huge star, and that there's no way she won't land a spot on the hot reality competition show Drag Factor. In fact, her life can't be complete without this expected triumph. So it's galling to her that her friend and arch-rival Cindy has achieved that stardom without her. Becky has worked herself to the bone to be a success, and she's not going to be held back by her still-small number of social media followers. She has a plan to fix this, as long as it doesn't backfire.

Zahir bounds around the stage delivering earnest pleas to her followers, while offering cynical asides to the audience that reveal her deep insecurities. Although since it's in performed the round, there are a few long stretches where we're looking at the back of her huge blue wig. It's a full-bodied performance, complete with costume changes, and Zahir's boldest work is in scenes in which Becky's insincerity and self-loathing are on full display.

Becky is delusional about her importance in the world, and her friends aren't very loyal, including both Cindy and Becky's trans drag-king boyfriend Chris. These and other characters (all played by Zahir) appear on video projections that cleverly recreate FaceTime calls and a Zoom hearing of a drag council that determines Becky's fate.

In a brisk hour, Ratcliffe's script adeptly punctures the intense pressure wannabe influencers inflict on themselves about their social media status, veering from the highs of going viral to the lows of vicious trolling. To many young people, followers are the ultimate currency, and expectations are often unrealistic. There are also pointed references to cancel culture, online sex work, transphobia and violent assaults. 

Thankfully, the tone is lightened by a series of hilariously lacerating jokes and riotous pastiche songs like the bouncy Cheese Is Lovely, which Becky notes is, like her, both delicious and nutritious. So while we're hugely entertained, it's the complexity and depth of the material that leaves us with something to think about. 

photos by Charles Flint • 11.Oct.22