Rating: ★★★★☆
The final performance for Open Works Festival began with a melancholy attitude as a well-dressed, grey-haired woman slumped down on the sofa and spoke lovingly to her empty living room. This sad atmosphere promptly shifted and was forgotten behind an immediate slew of teasing dialogue, reminiscent of any ordinary Yorkshire household, whilst two grandparents await the visit of their grandson from university.
‘How Could I Forget’ is a brand new Sheffield musical, composed and written by Joe Carnall Jr (Milburn, Reverend & Makers), with plenty of local comedy that had the audience instantly connected. Laughs and smiles are coaxed out of the grandma’s – Cathy Breeze – many eye-rolls, hilarious jibes from an energetic, firmly-northern grandpa – Gerard Fletcher – who can’t help jumping from his crossword to playing the piano, and towards the softly reluctant grandson – Jamie Wray – who goes along with the song and dance.
Musical numbers burst out quite naturally with the help of music being so prevalent within these characters lives, including the grandson Billy’s dream of having the confidence to play his guitar in front of a live audience – his rockstar moments playing to the front-row sitters effectively liven up some of the slower parts. Despite quite simple lyrics and concepts, the melodies seem to wrap you up warm within the family.
This sets up a strong feeling of comfort and interest in the initial storyline – understanding the grandpa – Jack’s – past in the army, and Billy’s trouble with making friends (or finding a girlfriend as his grandma, Jean, consistently points out). You don’t notice until your guard is far down that the grandpa has stopped moving about, stopped shouting out the crossword answers, and stopped asking about his grandson’s life, or remembering him at all.
There is so much initially to work out about this family – in some cases scenes like the dance and fight at the bar perhaps need more of a reason to them at first to get behind – but there is nothing like the feeling in your gut when the momentum suddenly pauses to show grandpa Jack looking out to the back of the room with a harrowing, empty expression. It’s as if the actor, Fletcher, himself has genuinely physically transformed.
Heavy scenes with perfectly delicate dialogue between Billy and Jean discussing the deterioration of Jack, and yet, hoping for a miracle are crafted with a raw touch that brought multiple audience members, including me, to our first tears of the night (and this was even before the interval).
A stand-out was the incredibly creative musical transition of the set of the house into a care-home, where every movement was directed – by Lauren Partridge – with a purpose, a gut-wrenching realisation, and remaining in sync with the heartbreaking lyrics under music that lets the nature of his dementia dawn on you. This is performed immediately after a jarring, record-scratch of a song by Jack, smashing out-of-tune keys at his piano and giving us the first insight into his internal plea for communication. It was at this point that I realised the bruise of this musical’s core message had crept up on me.
It was immensely clever to focus the second half largely on Billy’s bashful and endearing pursuit of a relationship with his grandfather’s young carer. These themes of beginnings, yearning and nervousness to connect really latch onto you after so much talk of loss. The musical number where they are both plucking up the courage to text each other whilst unknowingly pacing around the same pub was smooth, very entertaining, and a needed breath of fresh air before a painful finale.
Another stand out was the solo song by Jean as a focal point for the anger and heartbreak of a mother who raised children and ran a household alone without the support of her husband, despite other dreams she had for her life. That this musical didn’t end without fully covering this additional familial tragedy, particularly of that generation, truly impressed me of its capacity to touch every member of the audience with both a lesson and a mirror.
The talent of this cast, including the extras bringing multiple parts completely to life, sold this musical at the height of what it was imagined to be. The phenomenal embodiment of characters allowed you to be transfixed on each universal stage of loving and losing people in your family as it is echoed back to you. This was the cause of constant loud sobbing, sniffles and rustling tissues throughout the second act, transforming the auditorium into a safe space to cry and reflect on those memories, and be held through it by gentle quotes and healing lessons woven into the script. As Carnall mentioned at the end, the overwhelming experience is like a love letter to grandparents.
It may not have been a glittering showstopper, but the point was very clear – this new musical is built to give you a collective cathartic experience you’ll never forget.
Image Credits: Sheffield Theatres
