Even by the shaky standards of show-biz biography this production pushes its luck, not least in the casting of its lead man. Glenn Miller’s plane disappeared over the English Channel in 1944, when he was 40; Tommy Steele is in his eightieth year. Miller was leader of the most successful of the great swing bands; Steele is a one-time rock and roller, now long- established as a song and dance man. How can that possibly work? Well, in purely dramatic terms it surely can’t, but when you have an audience that is all too willing to forgive this show’s fundamental implausibility, you can get away with it – just. The Glenn Miller Story unashamedly exploits a kind of ersatz nostalgia, a wistful fondness for times gone by that the great majority of us are too young to really remember but which we bathe in a rosy glow. And there’s a touch of mythology that hovers around both Miller and Steele. The prosaic explanation for Miller’s death would be engine failure caused by carburettor icing, not uncommon in the 1940s and seriously bad news when you are in a single-engined aircraft over water. But wilder explanations have long been popular; perhaps he flew into the path of an RAF bomb, or was it that he was assassinated as a spy for the Allies? A number of possibly apocryphal stories are associated with Tommy Steele, too, not the least being that he once gave Elvis Presley a conducted tour of London (!). What can be agreed on is that Glenn Miller created some wonderful music, that Tommy Steele was the UK’s first bona fide rock star, and that both men are held in great affection by an audience of a certain age.
Ironically, The Glenn Miller Story is least convincing when it actually tries to tell the story. Part of the problem is that Glenn Miller did not really lead a life of high drama. Yes, he struggled to find the elusive, unique sound that would make his arrangements so memorable, and yes, the Glenn Miller Orchestra did eventually hit the big time, and that’s pretty much it. But the major problem arises when we see the portrayal of Miller’s relationship with his girlfriend, Helen Burger, who he married in 1928, when aged 24. Tommy Steele has unrivalled stage experience, but even he can’t avoid the incongruities created by the obvious age difference between the actor and the character he is playing. Sarah Soetart, who plays Helen, is over forty years younger than Steele. Miller’s love affair with Helen is conveyed with tactful restraint and much gentle humour, and Soetart is excellent as the patient, supportive wife, but there’s no getting over that age difference. There are times in the show when Steele acts as a narrator, rather than as Miller himself. They should have stayed with this approach, for these moments are by far the most successful.
As a biography therefore, The Glenn Miller Story may be decidedly weak; but as a musical celebration it’s not so bad, being attractive to look at and very easy on the ear. The first half is slow, and there are some clunky expository bits of dialogue. There was an audible sigh of relief near the interval when the full 16-piece orchestra appeared on stage and began to deliver classics like Moonlight Serenade and Chattanooga Choo Choo. This show comes to life in the second half when any attempt at coherent narrative is largely abandoned in favour of unadorned music and dance. Indeed, there are six excellent dancers and the orchestra replicates the Glenn Miller sound with aplomb. Tommy Steele may not be at all convincing as Glenn Miller, but he’s totally convincing as himself, all toothy smiles and Cockney sparkle, and he knows how to work the audience, leading the inevitable audience participation singsong at the finale. This is an undemanding, amiable show, but only the most devoted fans of its star will possibly think it’s a great musical, so I suspect that those who took part in a standing ovation last night did so largely in tribute to Tommy Steele’s undoubted status as a show-business legend. ★★☆☆☆ Mike Whitton 23rd February 2016
