Le Boeuf sur le toit is a jazzy, tango composition by Darius Milhaud. I like it hugely and think the best translation is “Beef on the roof”.
But this is an excuse to write about Fiddler on the Roof, the 1964 musical that ran for more than 3,000 performances on Broadway, a record then. I gave my mother the vinyl LP and although I listened to it, the memory has faded. I have just seen it for the first time at the Polish Cultural Centre in Hammersmith, put on by final year students at LAMDA. “If I was a rich man…” is the number you will know but it is not a feel-good musical. However, it resonated with a Broadway audience fifty years ago – the horrors of the Holocaust still fresh in their mind. It is set in Russia in 1905 but the pogroms fore-shadow Hitler’s Germany.
Dark though it is, it is not as dark as the reality for Jews in Russia at that time. It was a controversial subject for a musical then and no less so now. Musicals aren’t usually thought-provoking. The LAMDA production doesn’t pull any punches. There is the icing that legendary producer Harold Prince insisted on for 1964 Broadway audiences and beneath that there is a gritty reality; Jews were still being persecuted and displaced in the 20th century. Muslims in the 21st century are getting the same treatment, even if they don’t get a Broadway musical.
Cabaret, the play not the musical, tackles similar issues but not so confrontationally. Modern musicals, I regret, are saccharine pap fed to West End audiences who deserve their fare. Revivals deserve a cheer and I was fortunate to have been invited to the all-time great Guys and Dolls last week. I’m still singing Luck be a Lady in the bath.
In all due respect to LAMDA and the serious subject matter of its recent production, the last time I saw Fiddler on the Roof I thought it was at least 25 minutes too long. I suppose it comes with age – that all shows could be shorter. The notable exception being Guys & Dolls which is perfection on all accounts.
Since you mention it, I did hope that Fiddler was playing straight through, with no interval. After 1 3/4 hours there was an interval and, catastrophe, no bar. Guys ‘n Dolls could just go on for ever……