Charing Cross Theatre – until 29 July 2023
Reviewed by Claire Roderick
3***
After a staged concert at The Other Palace last year, the inspirational true story of cyclist Gino Bartali premieres at Charing Cross Theatre.
Gino Bartali may not be a familiar name to many, but his fame in Italy as a champion cyclist and two-time winner of the Tour de France made him a household name. The truth about his wartime exploits, which he never revealed, only raise his star higher. Under Mussolini’s rule, the crackdown against partisans and targeting of the Nazi Reich’s list of undesirables led to curfews and travel bans. Unknown to the Blackshirts, Bartali, his accountant Giorgio “Nico” Nissim and Cardinal Elia Dalla Costa were working together against the cruelty of the regime. Taking advantage of his success and celebrity, Bartali was allowed to cycle around Italy on training rides as he acted as a poster boy for Mussolini. Hidden in his bicycle frame were forged documents for the hundreds of Jewish people (mostly children) in hiding around Tuscany, enabling them to be smuggled out of Italy. It’s a story that makes your heart swell, and needs to be shared, even though Bartali and Nico were content with the private knowledge that they had done good.
One of the problems with Victoria Buchholz and Todd Buchholz’s book is the reverence they obviously have for these heroic men. In trying to include as much background and information as possible, many relationships and motivations get muddled and lost. Within the first few minutes, Bartali’s younger brother has died, he’s been threatened by the local gangsters and won the Tour de France. After this rush of action, the rest of the first act moves at a sometimes glacial pace towards Bartali’s decision to join the cardinal and Nico in their work. The second act is more evenly paced, with various antics as the trio try to bribe officials, and tense moments of jeopardy as their mission is threatened. The rush to set up Bartali’s childhood friend Mario (the imposing Fed Zanni, doing his utmost with this underwritten character) as a pragmatist willing to deal with an enemy to protect those he loves signposts, albeit unsubtly, his future under Mussolini – but throwing in a love triangle between Mario, Bartali and Adriana (Bartali’s future wife) completely muddies the build up and Mario is suddenly a petulant, if lethal, jilted lover. Perhaps much of the backstory could be better included in conversations between the characters (most of these facts are already repeated over and over again in confrontations).
This is obviously a labour of love for the Buchholz’s, but some fresh eyes could sharpen the structure of the book to create a more engaging and thrilling, less movie-of-the-week atmosphere. The decision to use Italian accents is a little strange, as some of the scenes sometimes stray into ‘Allo ‘Allo territory. The accents are also unnecessary as PJ McEvoy’s beautiful set and video design indicate the location and time of various scenes. The intentional comedy in the show mostly comes from Daniel Robinson’s Nico, whose chemistry and timing with Josh St.Clair as Bartali is wonderful. Unfortunately, there is less chemistry between St.Clair and Amy Di Bartolomeo as Adriana. This is down to the writing, not the incredible performers who have voices to die for and do their utmost to create a believable bond onstage despite the lack of arc in their scripted relationship. The cast are all outstanding, elevating the material and nailing some gorgeous harmonies. Although Victoria Buchholz’s clunky lyrics would benefit from some polish, her music is enjoyable, with some fine choruses proving memorable. Orchestrator Jen Green and musical director Dave Rose ensure maximum impact with the cast’s wondrous harmonies and stellar performances. Josh St.Clair is an energetic and charismatic lead, managing to belt and emote while riding his bike, and Niall Sheehy’s calm presence as Cardinal Dalla Costa belies his soaring voice as he sings one of the best (and most obviously Les Mis inspired) numbers “800 souls”. Ruairidh McDonald almost steals the show as Felix, a musician forced into becoming a Blackshirt.
With performances like this, Glory Ride is well worth a look. There is much to admire in this well-meaning production, and I am sure that future productions will build and improve to present a more coherent and satisfying show, but Glory Ride is not yet worthy of the yellow jersey.