The same difficulty I have with the musical version of "Les Miserables" applies equally to "Oliver." Instead of the composers' writing in the stylistic period of the play settings, they merely wrote Broadway-type melodies, which were historically unidiomatic and stylistically skewed.
Too, the blatant brutality and unsavory activities of the dramaturgy do not mix well with some of the sunny ditties which permeate the score. It's a uncomfortable mixture that leaves a decidedly sour undertaste.
The casting of the boy Oliver doesn't help matters: tentative of timbre and vexingly precious, there's something less than solid here. Fagin performs his traditional routine adequately, though the tunes he's obliged to sing have little basis in period manner.
"As Long As He Needs Me" is given a strident rendition, throaty and strained. The two big production numbers, "Who Will Buy" and "Consider Yourself" seem over-produced, with everything but the kitchen sink thrown in. It's one thing to go all out, yet another to cross over the line into excess.
The gloom, despair and depravity of much of the novel does not seem to lend itself to such ditties and choreography. While the novel is considered a classic, I must confess I have trouble with Mr. Dickens' consciousness, in that his works tend to emit a negative vibration. This may be due to the extension of his joyless personal life, which was full of disappointment and regret.
Not all the combined talent of this production, either on- or behind camera, can overcome the unconstructive nature of the basic material. All this results in an uncomfortably downer experience for me.
Too, the blatant brutality and unsavory activities of the dramaturgy do not mix well with some of the sunny ditties which permeate the score. It's a uncomfortable mixture that leaves a decidedly sour undertaste.
The casting of the boy Oliver doesn't help matters: tentative of timbre and vexingly precious, there's something less than solid here. Fagin performs his traditional routine adequately, though the tunes he's obliged to sing have little basis in period manner.
"As Long As He Needs Me" is given a strident rendition, throaty and strained. The two big production numbers, "Who Will Buy" and "Consider Yourself" seem over-produced, with everything but the kitchen sink thrown in. It's one thing to go all out, yet another to cross over the line into excess.
The gloom, despair and depravity of much of the novel does not seem to lend itself to such ditties and choreography. While the novel is considered a classic, I must confess I have trouble with Mr. Dickens' consciousness, in that his works tend to emit a negative vibration. This may be due to the extension of his joyless personal life, which was full of disappointment and regret.
Not all the combined talent of this production, either on- or behind camera, can overcome the unconstructive nature of the basic material. All this results in an uncomfortably downer experience for me.