13 – 15 July
Don’t be put off by the title. Goya Theatre Company’s latest musical is about love and life in all its rainbow-tinged glory. You’ll come out of the theatre smiling.
Four Felons and a Funeral trails four mates on a road trip to scatter the ashes of their dear friend, Charlie. Chester motorway services and Holyhead Ferry port may not sound like romantic stop overs, yet they accrue a new magic through the wit and joy of these ill-assorted travellers. There’s Saz, law abiding, and anxious, both the outsider and the pivot around whom the others revolve, ably portrayed by Rua Barron. The experience of the trip opens her eyes to a larger world of tolerance and understanding. Her lover Millie (Gabrielle Friedman) has a more relaxed approach to relationships and legal niceties, but in the course of the short journey she too grows and changes.
Indeed, one of the striking things about this piece of musical theatre is how much is packed into the single hour that covers the characters’ twenty-four-hour trip. The pace is fast and furious and by the end each individual is transformed. Wilf (Jordan Broatch) charismatic and sensitive, comes to see that he can accept the differing view of others. And Bex (Maddy Maguire) the dead man’s sister, is able to come to terms with her grief in unexpected ways.
According to the blurb, the musical is ‘kind of about queerness’ as well as ‘chosen family and fidelity’. It’s ‘kind of’ because it never preaches. Wilf may be trans, but their identity speaks through their heart rather than their head, and Wilf is not the only character to feel themselves an outsider. In this sense, Four Felons and a Funeral has universal appeal, reflecting the pain of dislocation that exists in every human being, as well as the magic of love and friendship that helps us to belong.
The voices, spoken and sung, are all strong, with fluent piano accompaniment from Math Roberts who wrote the music and lyrics with Sam Woof, who is also responsible for the direction and book. The score is both edgy and touching, switching with ease from comedic wit to full hearted melancholy and, while distinct and individual, carrying unmistakable echoes of the great Stephen Sondheim. The staging is clever and economical. Four boxes and a portable steering wheel are enough to suggest the Fiat Punto whizzing over the Irish countryside. The distant sound of a foghorn is enough to suggest the ferry departing from Holyhead.
My main reservation about this joyous touring show is that the performers are so heavily miked that at times, when all four are singing or talking, it’s hard to distinguish the words. At other times, the combined energies becomes so extreme that the atmosphere verges on the histrionic.
The production works best in moments of quiet or solitude, as when Bex steals the theatre with her heartbreaking solo about the loss of her brother. Or the tender moments between Millie and Saz. That said, when the lyrics are audible, the wit is sparkling. Broatch’s paean to the joys of motorway shopping is unforgettable, evidencing a delight in the unexpected that is present throughout and reaches its peak in the brilliant and hugely satisfying ending.
★★★★☆ Ros Carne 14 July 2023
photographer credit: Steven O’Gorman
