One Man Musical

AS Labour’s attempt to get rich landowners to pay their fair share demonstrated, hell hath no fury like Andrew Lloyd Webber. 

I’ve met the Lord Lloyd Webber three times.

First, I stood beside him at a urinal at The Other Palace in 2018 (I didn’t look). 

Second, at the London Palladium, where I told him to stop banging on about nonsense and do more campaigning for arts in schools. 

And third, after the pandemic restrictions eased, I asked him about the disastrous closing of Cinderella (which he called “a costly mistake”). He ran off down a corridor.

While Lord Lloyd Webber, with his quirks and complexities, may seem like an easy target, crafting sharp satire is challenging.

One Man Musical is a parody of musical theatre that also aspires to be both spoof and morality tale.

George Fouracres, as ‘king of musicools’ ALW, achieves a trance-like quality in some scenes. He portrays the megalomaniac impresario with expertise and infectious delight, while the comedy duo Flo and Joan accompany on keyboard and drums.

Needless to say, Lloyd Webber—recently seen clutching his therapy Havanese dog at a farmer’s protest in Westminster—has always craved the critical reverence bestowed upon Stephen Sondheim. Critics have often dismissed his work as overwrought. 

The New York Times, in particular, has expressed disappointment, declaring Jesus Christ Superstar had “minimal artistic value” and deriding Evita as “like reading endless footnotes from which the text has disappeared,” along with Cats (“if you blink, you’ll miss the plot”) and Sunset Boulevard (“lurid”).

We hear of ALW’s notorious disdain for critics; I guess his work belongs to the breakneck era before TikTok and before publicists began to slavishly court lapdoggy influencers.

But where were we? Ah, yes: the Lloyd Webber journey. Growing up in West London, walking his cat Perseus on a lead, developing a love for Gothic architecture, and meeting his long-time collaborator Tim Rice (played by a bag of rice) while falling in love with his first wife, Sarah.

ALW sings one touching ballad for his first wife, Sarah, and then recycles it into a ballad for his second wife, Sarah 2. (For your information, Michael Ball sang “Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini” at Lloyd Webber’s wedding to his current third wife, Madeleine Gurdon, in 1991).

Anyway, the fun production really finds its footing during the jaunty “No One Says No to Andrew,” which consists mostly of boisterous ALW melodies and similar-sounding chords.

At times, I felt the show could benefit from sharper edges, although both Elaine Paige and Lin-Manuel Miranda are mercilessly mocked (ALW jokes about shoes made from leather harvested from Patti LuPone’s back).

There ought to be a number lamenting the fact that almost every new musical seems based on an old movie.

There’s the fact that Lloyd Webber (ranked 282 on the 2024 Sunday Times Rich List) famously turned up in the House of Lords to vote in support of tax credit cuts for the working poor is brought up. So is his cowardly refusal to acknowledge any responsibility for the critical and commercial disaster (a $71 million loss) of the 2019 film Cats “nothing to do with me.”

Look, Lloyd Webber is a complicated person, but his legacy is extraordinary—a genius, and the British public love him.

Indeed, there are clever, gleeful digs at certain producers, directors, and performers, but even those who detest musicals could enjoy themselves. There is a hilarious audience participation sequence.

The whole thing seems to exist in a frame of reference that rules out genuine feeling, but then the mask slips at the end, suggesting ALW is capable of righting the wrongs of all the people he has screwed over.

ALW’s desire for success and relevance continues; he suggests his next show will feature lyrics by “Billie Eyelash.”

While the evening isn’t entirely satisfying, I think it would benefit from a late-night summer slot. Yet, even at its most ragged, it holds one’s interest.

Today, musical comedy could be seen as a dying art in the UK. We need more musical comedies and comedy plays.

Even ALW himself would find himself weeping with laughter at its precision-engineered ridicule. It offers an evening of gloriously impure fun.

One Man Musical is at Underbelly Boulevard, London, 16 January to 2 March