This entrancing cabaret musical lasts just 50 minutes, and has a cast of just two – singer Daniel Anderson, accompanied by Germaine Gamiet on the piano. But it has the heart and soul of a West End spectacular, as it runs us through the entire life of Vincent Van Gogh. A treat for the senses, it uses projection, narration and most of all song to capture the essence of the famous painter – exploring the passions that motivated him and, perhaps, which drove him to his end.
It’s the richness and range of Anderson’s singing voice that makes this show, but he’s an engaging storyteller too. Slightly other-worldly, just a little fey, he reads extracts from Van Gogh’s letters and tells the stories of his sadly-doomed loves. We explore, too, the painter’s delight at colour, his wonder at the world around him. Images of paintings from each phase of the story are projected onto the ceiling, literally illuminating the insights into his life.
The songs are a comforting mix of familiar pop anthems and West End musical numbers – but I won’t name examples, since part of the joy is hearing the opening bars and smiling with recognition of what’s about to come. Each one is perfectly-matched to its place in the storyline, and the anchor to the narrative draws new attention to subtle meanings that were always present in the words.
Though the tunes are mostly familiar, Gamiet’s arrangements are fresh and surprising. A funky rock anthem is stripped down to a thoughtful vocal; a supportive ballad becomes an angry assault. One song is even presented as a music-hall turn. Most commonly though, the performances are desperate and imploring, bearing a hint of the tragic instability that came to dominate the painter’s life.
It’s worth knowing that Anderson’s bravura performance makes few concessions to the intimacy of the space he’s performing in. For me, it went magnificently large without ever becoming too much – but it flirts with that tipping-point, and I wouldn’t criticise anyone who took the opposite view. He can draw it back when he needs to, though; the final number is tender, poignant and all but unbearable. It’s the perfect conclusion for a moving and magnificent show – which in turn, is a fitting requiem for a brief but brilliant life.