Anyone Can Whistle review

Anyone Can Whistle is known for being a failure. Opening first on Broadway in 1964, it closed after just nine performances. This production demonstrates its potential.

Set in an economically depressed town, Cora Hoover Hooper (Alex Young), the corrupt mayoress, decides to fake a miracle to regain popularity. And in Georgie Rankcom’s production, her garish schemes are elevated to their most absurd. From an iceberg-like rock comes an eruption of rainbow confetti water, which brings a burst of hope – especially for the patients of a local asylum, uncomfortably named the “Cookie Jar”. As the hospitalised inmates begin to merge with the queueing crowds, the line between the mad and sane becomes increasingly blurred.

Sondheim described his show as a “cartoon”, which seems a fitting description for Rankcom’s fantastically silly retelling. Sitting on either side of a pastel pink catwalk, we watch from two banks of seats as the “cookies” strut along in a perfectly pitched chorus. But, we are more than mere observers here – we’re part of Rankcom’s civilisation too. Audience members are selected randomly to read from pieces of paper. One joins a conga line in celebration, while another is used in place of a chair for the mayoress to perch on. Though a bit bumpy at times, this is a refreshing restaging.  

In a production that celebrates all that are considered ‘other’ in society, it is fitting that the abundantly talented, diverse cast carries this largely muddled story. Chrystine Symone gives a polished performance as a stilted yet earnest Nurse Fay Apple. Her wistful daydreaming in the title number – Anyone Can Whistle, shows real vulnerability, while her singing of the widely anthologised There Won’t Be Trumpets has an undercurrent of determination. Jordan Broatch is a magnetic Hapgood, too. Their onstage chemistry is enchanting. 

But it is the mesmerising Young at the helm who dominates the stage. Shrilling her high notes, she is a hilariously scheming embodiment of an all-powerful governor. Entirely self-serving, she has tears in her eyes as she chaotically sings of her fears of losing control in A Parade in Town. In a post-partygate Britain, her manic shrieking of “I can do anything I want” hangs in the air horribly.

This is a commendable attempt to grapple with the confusion of Arthur Laurents’ writing that has long prevented Anyone Can Whistle from reaching great heights. It is still a bit all over the place. After two hours of striving to celebrate their difference, the final decision to re-cage all the ‘cookies’ back in their jar is illogical. Ultimately, we’re left asking: what does it all mean?