London’s Theatre Royal Drury Lane hosts the UK premiere of father-daughter team Jeremy and Kjersti Long’s rock musical – exploring the struggles of mental health as well as the lack of communication across three generations of the same family. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if its conscious story ends up deserving a piece of his mind.
“You’re starting to sound just like your mother.” We’re all afraid of ever being said that. Now that I think of it – she may be reading this review too… Good – now she knows. It’s a story that we’ve heard too many times – especially, in our own lives. We grow up thinking we shall never make the same mistakes as our parents, until we realize that that belief was, in fact, the biggest error of all. Of course, that doesn’t need to be always the case – as you’re probably aware, I’m perfect. But it’s not until we’re brave enough to face the very core of the problem that we’re be able to prevent it in the future. Too often, we’ve been brought up in culture of denial – advocating for the appearance instead of the actual feeling; and most importantly, understanding than the only wrong is not to admit that, somethings, things don’t have to be so right.
Last night, the Theatre Royal Drury Lane hosted the European premiere of Little Piece Of You, a new musical conceived in the thematic style of late classics in the genre such as Dear Evan Hansen or Next To Normal. Also exploring the struggles of mental health and the excessively usual lack of communication in inter-family relationships, the show deals with an introvert teenage girl whose whole world revolves around her rock idol – devastated to find that such inspiration has, against all odds, suddenly taken her own life. Coping with a depressed mother and a desperate father endeavouring to restore their lost stability, that shocking discovery will become the wake-up call leading to the salvation all of them crave for, but never had the courage to express out loud.
Establishing an extremely gripping premise, with the potential of delivering a tremendously touching, insightful observation on human connections that could resonate universally, the work (featuring a repertoire written in tandem by father-daughter duo Jeremy and Kjersti Long) makes an honest effort at appealing to the audience’s hearts’ through its overall pleasing tunes, despite the recurring derivative tone of its motifs. Yet, this is as much as the piece moves forward – with the rest of its elements unable to provide anything else but a continuous halt on what could have been a profound, stirring jaunt exploding with pathos and thought, but which instead (and most sadly) turns out to be a bland, shallow and quite underdeveloped experience with very scarce memorability.
Featuring a book by Melissa Leilani Larsson, the dialogue (and subsequently, the structure in general) is the strongest contributor to the ineffectiveness of the recount. Packed with too many cliched lines that also lack flow and depth (apart from an absence of wit in their frequently predictable jokes), there’s very little to grasp throughout a narrative that strives to bring sufficient interest and, overall, growth to its personages. There’s practically no story or character arc, most unfortunately – and as a result, it’s fairly difficult (if not, impossible) to care about their evolution; for the simple reason that, in reality, there’s fundamentally none in the first place.
The problem also stems from its saturation with unnecessary simultaneous timelines – presenting a tale that’s been granted enough exposition, but which is deprived of all the remaining components required to bring gravitas, rhythm and individuality to its jaunt. Ultimately, we are introduced to their background and a few hints of their aspirations, but we never get to learn much else about them. Built in a very archetypal manner, any specks of truthfulness and credibility are wistfully wiped out by its over-melodramatic approach. We are told that they are at the bottom of their heaps, and we are expected to trust them. Yet, no bonds are offered for us to understand and, eventually, be compelled by their plight. And as a consequence, we have no other option as viewers than to let them go.
Some credit must be given, any case, to its rather enjoyable performances. Starring West End faves Mica Paris and Dujonna Gift in the parts of Mother and Daughter, their vocals are, by far, the most solid asset in the whole montage – flaunting exceptional technique and impressive robustness in all of their renditions. On the other hand, writer Kjersti Long also makes a committed apperance as Sydney Hill (the daughter’s tragic hero). Boasting some presence and determination in her portrayal, there’s some necessary refinement to be acquired by her singing, nonetheless – oozing passion and poignancy, but regrettably displaying noticeable issues regarding pitch and range, too.
An ambitious first attempt that, despite its significant blemishes, manages to point in the right direction, Little Piece Of You sets up the path for a promising journey, but fails to materialize it, almost entirely, by casting too many shadows across the way, without supplying enough brilliance in return. A more rooted and personal look into the trials and tribulations its characters go through is the missing link for its chain of events to finally advance into something that actually matters – not only as for what it covers topically, but also what it is as an specific work of fiction. As the title seems to suggest, good things often come in small packages. But for that to occur, they need to carry something inside.
All pictures credit to Roger Alarcon.
Little Piece of You plays at Theatre Royal Drury Lane until 1 November. Tickets are available on the following link.