Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat at Mirvish Productions
Photo by Cylla Von Tiedemann
“We’ve read the book, and you come out on top” quips Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat’s Narrator (Vanessa Fisher) in the show’s bombastic act one finale “Go, Go, Go Joseph”. The book in question is the Book of Genesis, from which the musical adapts the story of Joseph (Jac Yarrow).
The narrator's sly acknowledgement of the show’s source material is a joke. But it speaks to the show’s larger philosophy: the content of the narrative is not what’s interesting, here. We’re supposed to know what’s coming. Instead, the focus is on the way the narrative is told. For a commercial show, this approach is refreshing: over on Disney+, fans of cinematic universes obsessively avoid “spoilers” of what will happen next to their favourite characters; but by delighting in its telling, and treating the narrative as unimportant, Joseph moves away from such concerns. What’s important is the theatre of it all: the moment-to-moment sensory pleasures of lights flashing, a live band playing, and a large ensemble singing and dancing.
The show was composer Andrew Lloyd Webber’s first major project, so the music is not as consistent as Jesus Christ Superstar or Evita. But its highs are still high, and this production makes as full a theatrical meal of each number as it can. The score straddles styles, and the production’s design follows it wherever it goes: “Go, Go, Go Joseph” is a cheerleading number, complete with the outfits; “Close Every Door” literally closes the door on the bright cyclorama that backgrounds the rest of the show, creating an appropriately dark atmosphere for the brooding, vibrato-filled number; and when Tosh Wanogho-Maud’s Elvis-impersonating Pharoah showstoppingly enters the scene, statues of gold roll on to tower over the action.
Add to this a chorus of local children who frame the action as a childhood story, and the whole thing comes off as supremely playful. Joseph practically begs its audience to turn off their brains and enjoy the fun. But the show’s depiction of Egypt, which is rife with stereotypes, makes this difficult to do: it was hard for me to ignore the feeling that something is not quite right, here. As Karen Fricker rightly pointed out in the Star, the production’s particularly British sidestepping of questions of representation feels out of place on a Toronto stage.
The production’s marketing team is pushing the narrative that its Joseph, Jac Yarrow, is a brilliant new discovery, the show the birth of a star. They are right to. While the role starts small, it takes off towards the end of act one, and Yarrow rides it high into the sky. His voice is perfectly calibrated for the part: he sounds like a rich baritone on the bottom end and a pop star tenor on the high end. And he’s young enough — 24 — to not look awkward next to the chorus of children.
This Joseph does what it needs to. Though it cuts costs by having a smaller adult ensemble, it impressively still dazzles enough to fill the cavernous Princess of Wales Theatre. Its pixie stick energy and obsession with rainbows can make it feel like a Skittles commercial at times, but I’ll be damned if it isn’t the best Skittles commercial I’ve ever seen.