Beautiful Little Fool ★★★★★

Beautiful Little Fool, a new musical, tells the tale of the relationship of legendary writer F. Scott Fitzgerald (David Hunter) and his equally legendary wife, artist Zelda Fitzgerald (at this performance, Amy Parker for the indisposed Hannah Corneau) – starting from their very first meeting – and it doesn’t stray away from the darkness. F. Scott died in relative anonymity, while Zelda spent much of her life locked away in brutal mental health institutions before meeting a terrible death there at the hands of negligence and apathy.

Which begs the question: how do you write a 100-minute musical about a failed writer and an institutionalised artist’s toxic marriage without it becoming pure lamentation? Lyricist and composer Hannah Corneau has chosen to tell the story through the eyes of their now-adult daughter Scottie (Lauren Ward). This perspective ends up being a stroke of pure genius. The upward trajectory of Scottie’s life forms the perfect counterbalance to the downward spiral of her parents. It lends the show a wonderful tone – a bittersweet, light and dark, sharp and soft quality so necessary when depicting such complex people. F. Scott and Zelda are humanised in Scottie’s eyes so that an audience can connect with them in an entirely unique way. This choice is one that can’t be praised enough.

This is a seriously well-produced piece. Every element is spot on. Shankho Chaudhuri‘s set is pure spectacle: two floors of bookshelves and potpourri, a writer’s office, a band stage and a drum cage – the scale is almost overwhelming. There is a sense that the show is practically bursting out of the theatre, especially if one is sitting up close. A well-used light wall at the rear adds another layer to the visual, as does Laura Hopkins‘ impeccable costume design.

Particular attention must be drawn to the direction – which is flawless. At no moment is there a breath of dead air. 100 minutes is a long time, but Michael Greif makes it feel like a flash – the cast perfectly lunging and riposting off one another before catapulting into the next song.

The songs must be mentioned – beautifully composed and performed; thoughtfully chosen moments that delicately articulate our journey through time, through these people’s lives. The live band hugely contributes an explosive performance to these.

There are a few moments of slightly cheesy dialogue. But this is a show which wears its heart on its sleeve. These are more than made up for by other moments in Mona Mansour’s book – moments of axiomatic wisdom, simple comic poignance, or terrible, uncompromising honesty.

On top of the cohesive brilliance of the cast, there are also some absolute standout performances. Lauren Ward is mesmerising as Scottie, her pain constantly bubbling under the surface – while at the same time she is able to embody the innocent frustration of a 6-year-old child, and subsequently is even able to pick apart the granular differences in the performance of an awkward 15-year-old with a brash 17-year-old to an extent that has one rubbing their eyes in disbelief. Amy Parker, covering for Hannah Corneau as Zelda, put on a stunning, powerful and embodied performance across from David Hunter – whose rueful characterisation and boyish charm played brilliantly against the darker undercurrent of his endless ambition. David Austin-Barnes and Jasmine Hackett were also brilliant as ensemble – charismatic and totally in control – this cast has a deep bench.

The hardest thing to do with obscure or specific subject matters – such as the lives of 20th-century literary figures – is to create a world in which the characters can dwell that isn’t entirely obscure to an unknowing audience. One could (for a fact) go and see this show knowing embarrassingly little about the Fitzgeralds and within moments be drawn completely into their world. That is no small feat.

‘Thoughtful’ is the word. The whole piece feels even-handed and gentle in a way that is unusual and refreshing. There’s a real reluctance to portray anyone as a villain here, a kind of ambivalence normally reserved for feelings about family. The care and respect the creatives have for this story is apparent.

The penultimate song, So Alive, sung by Scottie, is an ode to women locked away and misunderstood. A hair-raising track – an uncompromising one. One that captures the essence of the show: a tragedy that refuses to be tragic.

Beautiful Little Fool tells a story that has fascinated people for decades. It manages to do so in a way that is unique, heartfelt, and formally brilliant. What more could you want?