Exploring the idea of how guys pick up girls and improve the way they do it is not new, but when it is girls playing the guys that are doing the pick up, the changed dynamics adds some interesting twists to what is often stereotypical perceptions.

And in M’Lady, a new original musical directed by Cassandra Tse with musical direction by Michael Stebbings, this very cleverly plays out through a simple but effective story line with catchy tunes and bouncy dance routines. [More] 

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

The clue is in the title, although My Bad Man might be a fairer representation. Billed as “A Meninist Musical”, M’Lady uses a Pygmalion plot to satirise New Zealand’s masculine archetypes (rather than Britain’s class system).

In Pygmalion/My Fair Lady, Pickering accepts Higgins’ wager that he can pass Eliza, a common flower girl with a thick cockney accent, off as a duchess in a matter of months. In M’lady the bet is that ‘nice guy loser’ Elliot can be transformed “from schmuck to skux” in just one week. In both cases, Eliza and Elliot ask their big-noting tutors to train them: it is they who feel the need to improve their own prospects.

Inverting Freddie’s love for Eliza, Elliot is in love with Freda. They have just seen Crash Bandicoot the Movie together but her real boyfriend, Dan, prefers Nora Ephron movies. So we’re not into ‘gross machismo v sweet and gentle’ male stereotypes here. Nevertheless it is because Elliott doesn’t understand why he’s been relegated to the ‘Friend Zone’ yet again that he is susceptible to G Thomas Poole’s claim that, as a graduate of The National Institute of Masculinity, he can make Elliot ‘Better than Beta’ by changing him into an Alpha male. It is G’s loyal friend Adrian who lays the bet.

In order not to add to the ‘more roles for men’ syndrome, creators Cassandra Tse and James Cain (book and lyrics) developed M’Lady with a clear casting concept. As the media release tells, us Director Tse is “interested in the subversive potential of cross-gender casting and drag, and how having our characters, who are often grossly sexist individuals, played by women or non-binary actors adds a layer of commentary to their actions.”

In this low-budget premiere, then, women are represented by limbless and headless tailors’ dummies – except for Freda, who gets to be a shop window mannequin in the opening scene.

This is not a ‘drag king’ show, however (see Tomboi: Laugh Your Bits Off); we are spared the gross, predatory, sexist so-called jokes Cathie Sheat’s Al Dente served up in this year’s Hen’s Teeth at the WTF!. Nor are we challenged by the uncomfortably charismatic masculinity of Alexander Sparrow’s How to Pick Up Women or its spinoff, Enigma.

M’Lady brings an entirely different aesthetic to its critique of the pickup artist (pua) and meninist (men’s rights activist) subcultures. Despite its website claim to be a “savagely satirical musical extravaganza” what comes through is a poignant exposé of male ineptitude in their quest to find love or get laid.

Aimee Smith’s Elliot (aka El) is a very engaging lost soul who makes us care, the more so because he turns for advice to G who, for all his blokey bluster, is soon revealed – in Jayne Grace’s manifestation – to be as vulnerable as the next person. As for Adrian, Freya Van Alphen Fyfe lays some intriguing clues as to what motivates his loyalty.

El’s backstory is revealed in scenes with his dad, Al (cf: Alfred P Doolittle) who – separated from his wife/ El’s mother – is now, like Ol (his dad, Oliver) before him, wedded to his La-Z-Boy and the Rugby Channel. Karen Anslow also finds the pathos in Al – whose final song about blame (‘Picture a Man’) is touchingly insightful.

Even G’s pua hero, Nemesis – played with appropriate swagger by Karen Anslow – is revealed as more pathetic than powerful, as are his meninist followers Fleischman (Marysia Collins) and Kurt (Greer Phillips). And Collins and Phillips’ render rugby commentators Roger and Jim as rather sweetly limited specimens of manhood.

The central quest is for Elliot to master his signature pick up ruse. I have a feeling that as the show plays in, the scenes that dramatise this will become more comically cringe-worthy than they are on opening night. Towards the end, without the chatted-up women there to add tension and resistance to the competitors’ antics, the ‘pick up off’ challenge to score the most names and phone numbers is less dramatic, let alone climactic, than it might be.

Michael Stebbings has composed 14 eminently singable songs, adding to Tse and Cain’s cleverly crafted lyrics. There are musical references aplenty, not just to My Fair Lady, with ‘She’ being a clear pastiche of ‘One’ from A Chorus Line. In after show chat aficionados name-check a number of other shows too. The scene where G accuses Nemesis of plagiarism signals this production is playfully self-aware.

Is there room, I wonder, for a number that packs more testosterone, referencing Stomp perhaps? Or is wanting that to misunderstand the whole premise of the casting?

In the small but perfectly formed band, stage right, Stebbings (clarinet, tenor saxophone, piano) is joined by Stephen Clothier (piano, violin), Bernadette Stander (upright and electric bass) and Felix Nesbitt (percussion). From where I sit in the BATS Dome space, the unamplified singing voices fare very well in the musical mix. One cannot help but wonder, however, how much more light and shade could be achieved with radio mics and a fully resourced sound mix.  

The choreography (Natasha Sime) is pretty basic and well enough executed; the costumes (Lisa Kiyomoto-Fink), with a special emphasis on hats, make clear character statements; the wall-of-posters set (Ben Emerson), as lit by Michael Trigg, draws particular pre-show attention to Scott Pilgrim, The Hobbit and Pulp Fiction – make of that what you will.

When the denouement plays out in shadow and soft silhouette (we only find out later that this is because the lighting desk ‘crashed’) everyone carries on regardless, incorporating the gloom as if is intended. It is a testament to our trust and willing investment in the show that I and those around me earnestly rationalise why this effect is included.

Considering all the key creative personnel are under 25 (M’Lady was a finalist in Playmarket’s ‘Playwrights b425 competition’ this year) we have cause to celebrate the emergence of talents setting themselves such an ambitious challenge. While there are clear values in M’Lady retaining its lo-tech ‘chamber musical’ charm, it is inevitable that consideration will be given to its potential on a bigger stage – the Hannah Playhouse, for example – with amplified singing voices and some ‘big boot’ choreography.

I’m guessing (and am happy to be corrected on this) that an unintended consequence of the casting convention has been the discovery of a level of compassion for men that has moderated the original intention to mount a “savage satire”. As it stands, M’Lady comes across – to me, anyway – as an affectionate exposé of male vulnerability.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer