The American election result is undoubtedly good news for rifle owners across the United States – even so, there are aspects of misogyny and racism endemic to Dorothy and Herbert Fields’s original book for Irving Berlin’s musical that seem a little distasteful even for Donald Trump’s America. Where do you begin with a show whose male lead believes that physical violence is the best means of putting a woman in her place? Or that the swindling of oil reserves from Native American lands is presented as a matter of rib-tickling hilarity?
Paul Foster’s production avoids a good deal of embarrassment by following the revisions made by Peter Stone for the Broadway revival in 1999. Stone’s version tones down the sexism by declaring the climatic shooting match between pint-sized Annie Oakley and egotistical big-shot Frank Butler to be a draw. Yet the Sheffield revival also dispenses with Stone’s quasi-Brechtian conceit of framing the action as if it were a vaudeville entertainment staged by Buffalo Bill’s wild west revue; which removes a distancing layer of irony but makes it hard to understand why the show is prefaced by a chorus of There’s No Business Like Show Business, other than as an excuse to reprise its biggest number as often as possible.
Photograph: Johan Persson
Thankfully, there’s no place for Butler’s inexcusable introductory number I’m a Bad, Bad Man; and though Ben Lewis gives a convincing account of the character’s eggshell ego, he is saddled with the dramatic problem of spending the majority of the evening in an enormous sulk. Yet it is impossible not to be outgunned in practically every department by Anna-Jane Casey, whose explosive performance as Oakley is theatrical dynamite. Casey brings to the role a touching vulnerability and a filthy laugh that resurfaces even once she has switched rabbit skins and dirty fingernails for long white gloves and royal engagements. It’s of particular note that among the list of hillbilly accomplishments outlined in Doin’ What Comes Naturally is an ability to pick her own banjo accompaniment. And though the character has a tendency to become less interesting once she loses her rough edges, Casey suggests that a willingness to compromise is a pragmatic quality that does not necessarily require sacrificing one’s competitive edge.
There’s strong support from Lauren Hall and Cleve September as a young couple determined to bridge the racial divide, and Maggie Service steams with resentment as Annie’s chief rival. Laura Hopkins’s expansive set suggests both the wide horizon of the midwest and the bright lights of the east coast with a rocky outcrop that later illuminates into the Manhattan skyline. And as the show accelerates towards its giddy climax, musical director Paul Herbert and choreographer Alistair David seem to inspire one another in accordance with the general principle that anything he can do, I can do better.
At Crucible, Sheffield, until 21 January. Box office: 0114-249 6000.
