The Pirates of Penzance The Pirates of Penzance
Cast
Committee
Production
NotesTicket sales for this show were 1355 in Manchester, of which 639 were sold before show week.
Cornwall, England, with Queen Victoria on the throne. The infamous Pirates of Penzance are throwing a birthday party for their young apprentice Pirate, Frederic, who is now a fully-fledged swashbuckler! Alas, he reveals that he is to leave them that very day and devote the rest of his life to them down. He loathes their villainous ways and became a Pirate only because his nursemaid, Ruth, apprenticed him by mistake. Heartbroken, the Pirates depart.
Frederic is left with Ruth, who has persuaded him that she is in fact a beautiful woman, despite being a haggard forty-seven. All looks good for Ruth until Frederic spots dozens of girls approaching, all of them young and gorgeous. He storms at her treachery: she flees: Frederic, prudently, hides The women arrive in a state of huge excitement, the Daughters of a Major-General Stanley on a grand picnic. They're just about to throw caution and clothes to the wind and hop in for a dip when Frederic leaps out to stop them. Their horror at being observed is tempered by their realisation that this ex-Pirate is also a very cute young man. When he pleads with them for one of them to be his wife, it is all they can do to resist his charms, but they all do, prudently putting position above principle.
All, that is, except one - much-bullied bookish Mabel, who spots her chance and puts herself forward to the suddenly nervous innocent Frederic. The bitchy Daughters throw a few snide remarks and then delight maliciously in the awkward Mabel and confused Frederic as they attempt to get to know each other better. Their painful courtship is interrupted, however, by the sudden return of the Pirates, who quite naturally attempt to seize the maidens and carry them off (to the nearest clergyman, of course). Battle ensues, until from the midst of the affray suddenly pops the Daughters' papa, Major-General Stanley.
The Major-General, realising the danger, pleads that he is an orphan. The Pirates are famous for freeing orphans they capture - being all orphans themselves - and gritting their teeth at the now triumphant Daughters, they do exactly that. The Daughters, Major-General and Frederic and Mabel make their escape.
Awakened in the middle of the night, the Daughters find their father in the family crypt racked with guilt at his lies. Frederic comforts him with the news that he has assembled the local Police, who march in demonstrate their heroic manliness. Unfortunately, the Daughters notice that the Police are terrified and taunt the poor coppers with descriptions of their mutilated corpses, so they flee again with everyone in hot pursuit.
Frederic is about to follow, when from the shadows sidles his old master, the glorious Pirate King, and his old flame Ruth, now a full-fledged Pirate. The two reveal that Frederic was apprenticed until his twenty-first birthday, not his twenty-first year, and since the young whippersnapper was born on leap day he's now only five, and a thus a Pirate once more.
Frederic, dutiful as ever, solemnly agrees. The Pirate King and Ruth leave to round up the Pirates and bring them back to slaughter everyone. Frederic tallies only long enough to see Mabel for one last time, where each finally confesses their love for the other. Ecstatic, they swear to wait for each other until Frederic is again free of his indentures in some sixty years' time, and Frederic departs to rejoin the Pirates.
Mabel, however, is not the sort to sit about and pine until 1940. She summons the Police again and orders them to go after the Pirates. Their philosophical musings are terminated by the arrival of the furious Pirate band, out for blood. The Policemen hide, and then the Pirates hide in turn as Major-General Stanley appears. The appearance of his Daughters is the cue for the Pirates to pounce. The Police leap from hiding only to be completely trounced.
Just as the Major-General is about to be beheaded by the triumphant Pirates, the Police try one last patriotic tactic: they appeal to the Pirates to yield in the name of Queen Victoria. The Pirates being proud Britons, this succeeds immediately, and they surrender. All is now lost for Frederic and the Pirates, as they face imprisonment or worse. One last surprise awaits, however. Ruth reveals that the Pirates are in fact noble Peers, fully-fledged members of the House of Lords. As the highest legislators in the land they obviously don't deserve to be imprisoned for a little boyish fun like piracy. The Police, respectful of rightful rank, release the Pirates and the daughters smartly grab a Lord each. The Major-General gets his whole brood married off, and Frederic and Mabel fall into each other's arms, united and happy at last.
PIRATES is a great show. It has some of the most beautiful music in the canon, and the best plot. Approaching this MUGSS PIRATES I decided I wanted to entertain three audiences: first, the student friends of our current members, who make up the bulk of our sales, and who are generally ignorant of G&S and often the theatre; they should see a vibrant, active show that might encourage them to join next year, learn more about G&S and tell their friends that they really enjoyed the show when they emerge from the theatre. Second, the relatively small group of loyal people who come and see MUGSS shows each year because they like the society and G&S. These people will have a detailed knowledge of the show and often the approved D'Oyly Carte direction. This group deserves a show that reflects a knowledge of the text and respect for the music, and most importantly – and sadly ignored – faith that 9Gilbert is dramatic and funny without introducing slapstick for cheap gags. Finally, the other audience is the volunteer, student society, many – most! – of whom have never been on or back of stage before. These people are the real future of G&S and amateur theatre: they need a show where they can all participate and are directed to produce as good a show as they can, a show they will enjoy and look back upon with pride.
For the student audience, I wanted to address the perceived problem with G&S that it is meaningless nonsense. This requires making the audience really care about what is going on. G&S is sometimes criticised for lacking real warmth and human emotion. This is not entirely unfair: after all, they are satires, and Victorian ones at that, quite stylised and formal. However, I think this fails to take account of Sullivan's beautiful, emotional music, which lifts Gilbert's silliness and blunts his caustic cynicism. Relying on this, I have attempted a reinterpretation of the central relationship between Mabel and Frederic. I personally have never found Mabel to be a sympathetic character. Who cares if Frederic leaves her? She's tough, she'll be fine. So, I've attempted to make her more vulnerable, and left some ambiguity to Frederic's emotions towards her until… well, until the music tells you what he's feeling. I hope this interpretation holds the interest of this audience.
It was vital in addressing my second audience, G&S buffs, that changes like this are justified in the text and music. Gilbert wrote very funny dialogue and constructed dramatic scenes, and I always started with his text and Sullivan's music in deciding how to approach each scene and character. The huge success of the 1980s musical revamp of PIRATES by Joseph Papp in New York has lead many amateur societies to follow that direction, but I prefer the real operetta and trust in the cast to put the humour across and the audience to appreciate it; the Papp production is great fun, but relies on a good deal of silly business for gags which detracts from the real comedy. Another aim was to ensure that the corrosive self-mockery that spoils many G&S productions was avoided. The characters frequently say and do ridiculous things, but they must always sincerely believe in them or the ridiculous humour is lost. Finally, the great opportunity to direct a young cast who know nothing about G&S is that they don't know that there is a “proper” way to do things, so they approach the music and acting with fresh eyes.
My third audience, the society, required an energetic and strong show that respected the contribution of everyone. One issue was to decide what to do with the chorus of daughters, who have a submissive and silly role in the text not in keeping with the attitudes of modern young women. I amended this not on political grounds – if we choose to perform G&S we have to accept its attitudes - but dramatic ones: the chorus is better able to play strong women, and their strong actions help to spur the men into more dramatic reactions. I've also paired off Daughters with Policemen at the end of Act Two, which doesn't make any sense in the text but is jollier for all concerned. Another concern is to gauge the amount of production that can be asked of the society, where almost everything is made in-house. I hope I've utilised the resources of the society well.
This is my first attempt at direction, and I have learned a great deal in these few months. I offer my heart-felt thanks to the Society for giving me the opportunity to work with them and for all the hard work and support. Do enjoy the show!
11 years have passed since I first came across "The Pirates of Penzance", when I was fortunate enough to get involved in the chorus of a semi-professional production whilst still at school.
My initial impression of the music was of unsophisticated and simplistic melodies, antiquated fuddy-duddy stuff which a young person should know better than to try and perform.
Then why did I end up persevering, and eventually loving the show? Why am I now waving a baton in front of MUGSS, when most people my age would rather admit to an embarrassing venereal disease than a love of Gilbert and Sullivan? What on earth could turn a hardened death metal fanatic like myself into a G&S buff?
It's like this:
I sat in the wings listening to Mabel's entrance on the opening night all those years ago. Frederic was imploring those snooty girls to look his way. The snooty girls refused. Then the most beautiful voice I'd ever heard soared through the theatre. I felt a shiver go down my spine and a funny lump in my throat. There was no turning back.
Actually putting on a show allows a much closer inspection than a casual listen. The music of "Pirates..." is anything but unsophisticated. There's thunderous drama ("Away away..."), heart-tugging pathos ("Ah leave me not..."), slapstick comedy (anything involving the policemen), even a little surrealism ("I am the very model..."), this show has a bit of everything.
Sullivan was on top form throughout the operetta, and there is an inherent energy throughout, which can partly be attributed to extensive use of lively bouncing 6/8 time signatures.
It is the perfect show for Mugss. The huge and enthusiastic cast give you a large dynamic range to play with - whispered asides ("He's telling a terrible story..."), through to the shows high point (in my humble opinion of course) the epic "Hail Poetry".
I have taken a couple of liberties with the music, firstly with the inclusion of a section which was cut from the original ("To Queen Victoria's name we bow"), which I believe is a fabulous and dramatic piece of music which may be included without in any way hurting the narrative flow of the finale.
Secondly and perhaps most contentiously is what we have done with Ruth's song. What I wanted to achieve with this number was to go into new and uncharted territory, to show off the many talents of the cast, and to give the song a boost of spontaneous energy. No disrespect to Sullivan's music is intended, and I hope this is conveyed in the enthusiasm of the performers.
To finish off I'd like to thank Mugss for giving me this incredible opportunity, and Alasdair for being such a joy to work with. I hope you enjoy the show!
MusicRecordings provided courtesy of the marvellous Mike Harris.
Pictures
The Pirate King stands by his throne.