I Can Die Too review – Vibrant pop songs can’t bring the actor’s story to life | stage

IIf Frances Ruffell wanted to put on a one-woman cabaret show, that would be very good. The West End and Broadway star has certainly put together a good collection of original songs to embody ‘I Could Die Too’.

Written by dozens of songwriters and brightly arranged by musical director Fro, it has the vibe of 80s and 90s pop like Cyndi Lauper, Britney Spears and Ultravox. A touch of torch song here, a slice of synth ballad there. Backed by cello, violin, keys and drums, Rovell sings in her element: nothing theatrical and good judgment to know when the song needs to sway the hips, shuffle the soft shoes or just perform straight with the eyes closed.

However, this is no cabaret show – although it’s hard to say exactly how to classify “I Could Die Too.” Credited to three writers – Ruffell, Sally George and Pitlochry’s artistic director Alan Cumming – it is about actress Lily who rehearses a performance of Jean Cocteau’s La Voix Humaine.

In this 1930 monologue, a woman spends an anxious night phoning her lover on the eve of his marriage to someone else. In this version, Lily is repeatedly interrupted by a script she finds so fatal that she can’t share memories from her love life—a lost teenage lover, a domineering boyfriend, an adopted child—and nothing out of the ordinary.

Her mental state is a nod to the songs the five musicians play when they’re not doubling as a sketchy backstage crew. As is typical in backstage dramas, Lily is a drunken narcissist who infuriates her colleagues, but the play is so scripted that it is difficult to distinguish between the fictional actor and the character she is playing.

The only action happening on stage is the unconvincing quarrel between Lily and her manager James (Steven Ashfield). Everything else is happening somewhere else at a different time, far away and unexciting. In hindsight, a story emerges – an emotional reunion between mother and daughter – but it’s too late to invest in it.

Bill Bockhurst’s production, a well-resourced studio show, feels as if it has ambitions for a longer life. If so, it will take more than just good songs to carry them.