If you’re unfamiliar with US punksters Green Day you might be forgiven for thinking this was a topical Trump based musical but no, it’s another moronic president (let’s face it a Trump win looks more likely by the day), George ‘Dubya’ Bush, rather than the world’s most famous combover that the band had in its sights on the original album and single it spawned way back in 2004.
Ambitiously conceived as a punk rock opera American
Idiot focuses on three disillusioned young men from the fictional Jingletown,
USA, each of whom takes a radically different path through life, fatherhood,
joining the military and getting off their face on drugs. Frustrated with the
general state of their nation (no change there sadly) and lives the three, Will,
Johnny and Tunny, resolve to escape Jingletown and head off for the big city
but Will’s girlfriend Heather drops the bombshell that she’s in the family way
and he decides to stay behind. The other two hit the road and Johnny ends up
taking heroin, unleashing an alter ego known as St Jimmy, whilst Tunny does his
bit for Uncle Sam and enlists with predictably dire consequences. That’s the
basic plot, conveniently set up to incorporate the original album’s songs
without too much awkward shoehorning.
Of course the original source material’s pretty
awesome with the title track itself, Boulevard Of Broken Dreams, Wake Me Up
When September Ends and Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) arguably amongst some
of the best songs of the noughties and this particular cast, to borrow a
suitably American phrase, knock every single number right outta da park. From
the titular opening number there’s enough energy on stage to power Jingletown itself
with some particularly energetic muscle tearing brain damage inducing punk rock
thrashing about that'll make you want to tear up the theatre seats and join ‘em
onstage. Hell yeah, now that’s an opening. American Idiot’s made for a theatre like
the Northcott too. Relatively intimate with no raised stage and a sound system
that’s capable of making your vital organs vibrate like they’re in a food mixer
you’ve got an immediate connection with the action that’s almost impossible to
achieve in a bigger venue so even if you’ve seen American Idiot a dozen times
you won’t have experienced it like this.
There are some West End worthy performances too,
with Amelia Lily as Johnny’s feisty but caring love interest Whatsername (that’s actually the character’s name by the way...I’m not losing my marbles) and Lucas Rush channelling his inner Keiths (Flint, Allen and Moon) as Johnny’s
wickedly self destructive alter ego St Jimmy.
Making, as far as I’m aware, his professional
acting debut singer songwriter Newton Faulkner was a revelation with some beautifully
nuanced moments, notably Act 2’s drug taking scene, painful to watch but wordlessly
capturing the loneliness and desperation of addiction which ain’t easy without
making it all seem a little OTT. Almost unrecognisable after chopping off his trademark
dreads for a recent video he does a pretty good ‘dude’ accent too.
Of course
his vocal talents are what he’s best known for and in particular he gives some
of the more reflective songs like Boulevard of Broken Dreams a vulnerability
that even gives the original a run for its money (by a convenient twist of fate
Newton’s first group was a Green Day covers band too, not a lot of people know
that...unless they look at Wikipedia...but that’s cheating).
Like all great shows – and this is a real belter –
the whole cast perform their socks off though (actually that’s the one item of
clothing that Newton’s left with for part of the show but you get the point) backed
by a proper kick ass live band that’s worth the price of a ticket on their own.
Sell your granny (too much...okay, maybe just pawn
her for the night then) and go see this show right now, you’re guaranteed...oh
go on then it’s predictable as hell but let’s just say it anyway... the ‘time
of your life’.
American
Idiot is on at Exeter Northcott Theatre until Sunday May 22nd.
Tickets right here (grannies not accepted as payment...).
All photos courtesy of Darren Bell.
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