Nottingham Royal Concert Hall – until Saturday 23 August 2025
Reviewed by Louise Ford
4****
I must say, coming to see this production, I was a little unsure about the story. Aside from current world events, I only had a faint recollection of the 1971 film with Topol in the role of Tevye. With a bit of background reading and a perusal of the program, I felt better informed going to see the production. Through the mists of time, I could hear the various lyrics from the well-known songs (Matchmaker, matchmaker make me a match; If I were a rich man, diddle diddle diddel dum; Tradition), in my ear. Good news, the earworm is still there this morning, as I type my review!
Fiddler on the Roof is based on a set of short stories written by Sholem Rabinowitz (better known as Sholem Aleichem). The stories collectively known as Tevye’s Daughters were written between 1895 to 1915. Sholem grew up in the shtetl of Voronkov, which is the inspiration for the shtetl of Anatevka, the home of the Fiddler on the Roof, in modern-day Ukraine. As an aside, Sholem’s life story is worthy of a film or play in its own right.
The 1958 musical was written by Joseph Stein (librettist), Jerry Bock ( composer) and Sheldon Harnick (lyricist). The musical was an immediate hit and became Broadway’s longest-running show at the time, and on transferring to London, it clocked up over 2,000 performances.
Over the intervening years, there have been many productions and adaptations. The current production, under the direction of Jordan Fein, weaves a fine line between comedy and threat. The show originally opened at the Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre last year and is now on a nationwide tour.
When we walk into the auditorium, we are greeted by the vast grain fields of the Ukrainian countryside. The fields lift (accompanied by the sound of the fiddler) to become the roof and reveal the village. The set is underlit throughout (lighting by Aideen Malone), which enhances the dark humour, claustrophobia and struggles for the villagers and Teyve in particular. The ominous presence of those pesky Russians adds to the threat and drama, a portent of things to come.
The role of Teyve is played by Matthew Woodyatt, who outwardly is the stern patriarch trying to make a living and manage his five headstrong daughters whilst placating his hardworking wife. His rendition of “If I were a rich man” is superb and shows his softer inner dreamer. We are on Teyve’s side from the get-go as he talks to us and God about his troubles and dilemmas.
The role of Golde is played by Jodie Jacobs, she steers away from the stereotypical shrill fish wife and plays the role with a certain resigned exasperation and plenty of eye rolling!
The clown of the show is Yente (Beverley Klein), a darkly clad bundle of energy, plotting and scheming, trying to bring together the most unlikely matches. She does this with humour and quips.
Whilst we only see three of the daughters in detail, their stories drive the narrative and show the changes and moves away from tradition in Anatevka.
For me, the energy and drama of the production came from the dancers. They managed to combine traditional dances (high kicking Cossack) with almost balletic pieces. The choreography is by Julia Cheng.
The star of the show is, of course, the titular fiddler (Raphael Papo), who starts on the roof and is integral to the story, weaving and playing his way through the stage. A brilliant idea which helps to not only set the tone but also helps to make sense of the title and the importance of music to the Jewish community and the villagers. The production also has a live orchestra secretly in the corn fields at the back of the stage.
My only criticism of the show is that it seemed a little unbalanced. The first half, which contains all of the bangers, is an hour and a half long and sets the scene and signposts the changes taking place. The second half seems to be over far too quickly. Whilst the energy and tone absolutely follow the story, it seems to lack a little something before the dramatic quiet ending.
Shout it from the rooftops.