Here he joins a gang of child pickpockets ruled by Fagin, a grotesque who was surely pushing things even in 1960, and who I can only assume the show just about gets away with today because it's by a Jewish writer and generally casts a Jewish actor, but still isn't without controversy.
The musical is older than I am so I don't know how much it contributed to the general image of Oliver Twist as a cosy story for all the family, but this being Chickens in full political, exposure of hypocrisy and inequality mode it's a dark story. Bart's adaptation assumes the story is well-known so speeds its way through the early stages of Oliver at the workhouse and undertaker's with a quick succesion of big musical numbers which have become standards. Matthew Bourne's production is determinedly not here to reinvent the wheel so, not having seen this on stage before, I got very much the cheesy chorus of cheerful urchins I'd associated with it. I can't say either the comedy stylings of Bumble and Widow Corney (Katy Secombe,) or the three dozen Dick van Dykes gorblimeylawdluvaducking their way around the stage were for me. Although OK, the running gag about regularly dosing the kids up with gin is pretty funny.
A couple of things markedly improve as we get to the main thrust of the story though, one being that both musical and production start to embrace quite how nasty the story is. Lez Brotherston's set is a marvel of interlocking parts, but under Paule Constable and Ben Jacobs' severe lighting it's also a dangerous maze of spiral staircases, rickety bridges and hidden corners any dodgy character could be lurking in. The first act's big musical numbers are largely dominated by the Artful Dodger (Billy Jenkins,) Oliver's cheerful teenage guide into the criminal underworld, but there's still a sadness to the character - when Dodger's told, intended as a compliment, that he'll grow up to be like the murderous Bill Sikes (Aaron Sidwell,) it's clear he rightly sees this as a miserable fate.
In the second act the big musical star is Shanay Holmes as professional doormat Nancy, a powerful performer in both her rousing and emotional numbers. But the second major thing that lifts the production is of course the scene-stealing role of the child gang's dodgy mentor: In a world of Sylvia Young precision, Simon Lipkin's Fagin brings a real sense of anarchic unpredictability, from the moment he arrives on stage in a weird, awkward shuffle as if not sure what the hell the tiny child in front of him is supposed to be. He gets the most moments of comedy as he interacts with the audience and orchestra and, being Simon Lipkin, even when he's not been given a puppet he still manages to have an argument with his own hand.
He even manages to get a few gags in acknowledging the Jewish stereotype the character sails close to the wind with; given the circumstances it's probably best that Fagin is presented largely as a sympathetic, tragic figure, without digging too deeply into what he's doing with all those little boys. So to some degree Oliver! does live up to the cheesy image I had of it, the chaos Lipkin brings with him lifts the whole enterprise, and although it takes a while the show does acknowledge that this is a really grim story, even undercutting the way Oliver, who turns out to be secretly rich, gets his happy ending: Dodger, who isn't secretly rich, can go fuck himself.
Oliver! by Lionel Bart, based on Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens, is booking until the 28th of September at the Gielgud Theatre.
Running time: 2 hours 40 minutes including interval.
Photo credit: Johan Persson.
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