Re-makes

There was a film on the TV in the bar of the hotel we were staying in. I didn't recognise it so I asked the barman; he said it was a remake of "Assault on Pricinct 13". He added: "Remakes aren't usually as good as the originals." Well, that very afternoon I had seen a sort of remake: that of "Singing in the Rain". No, not a film remake but a theatrical remake, a transcription I suppose it might be called. Not as good as the original? Actually it was as good. Though being a different medium one can't really compare them. What was so good about it was that it was pure theatre and it was fresh - a fresh take on a well-known and well-loved picture. It had all the songs, all the dance sequences, though of course, they changed certain routines to accomodate the strict space of the stage. But it also had differences: in the number "Moses supposes his toeses are roses..." instead of the voice teacher being amazed and a little horrified at the two dancers' antics as in the film, he got wound up in the joy of their response and joined in the dance. These small changes - though rather large ones when you think of the choreography that went into their creation - gave the musical a freshness that the film now, after many viewings, does not have. (It still has something this version couldn't rise to: Cyd Charisse).
We saw this at the Chichester Theatre Festival which runs for about half the year. It will surely transfer to London in due course. If it toured to Cardiff or somewhere near I'd see it again.
We also saw Terance Rattigan's "The Deep Blue Sea" the night before. Excellent. Rattigan has the knack of moving you emotionally with a gesture: the middle-aged woman's lover picks up a piece of paper at the end of Act 1 and slowly reads it to himself. You know what it is: she failed to commit suicide and he is reading the note she left for him. Until then he's been full of beans, happy, and he may be in love; now he is, by his face, a wreck of a man. Curtain.