As a theatre maker, I have had the privilege of seeing productions at all levels of good and bad, complete and incomplete, and moving and unmoving. Once in a blue moon, however, I get lucky enough to see a show that reminds me of why I started making theatre in the first place; a show that fully transports me and everyone else in the room to a fuller understanding of humanity through a breathtaking display of artistry. From the incredible actor/musicians, to the versatile set, to the beautiful lighting, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button was one of the best theatre experiences of my life. Despite having a title character, this is an ensemble piece through and through. Every performer on that stage carried the weight and joy and sorrow and melody of both the story and one other with nothing but the utmost care. This production is currently being performed at The Ambassadors Theatre in London, and I cannot recommend it highly enough.
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button has been adapted from a short story of the same name by F. Scott Fitzgerald. While maintaining the same premise of Fitzgerald’s story – a man, Benjamin Button, is born as an old man and ages backwards throughout the years – it departs very quickly from the source material. Whereas Fitzgerald’s story bases itself around the city of Baltimore, this production sets itself in a small town on the Cornish coastline. This concept came from Jethro Compton who grew up on the Cornish coast and had the initial idea for taking this short story and turning it into a musical. This change of setting offered several boons: firstly, in the same way that Fitzgerald had a connection to the place he was writing about, so too did Compton. Secondly, being an English-produced show, it gave the opportunity for others brought into the fray to find a way into the story. Lastly, and in my opinion most importantly, the Cornish coast gave the opportunity for the music of the world to be that of sea shanties and folk songs. The harmonies lifted the story, and every performer played multiple instruments resulting in a euphony of voices and violins, drums and basses, and guitars and flutes.
The setting is only the beginning of the vast differences between short story and musical. Another large shift is in the treatment of women throughout the plotline. In Fitzgerald’s story, women are mostly afterthoughts – Benjamin’s mother is not mentioned once, even on the day of his birth. The woman he marries in the story, while at first described as beautiful and desirable, quickly turns into a subject of disgust for Benjamin. In the musical, however, the stories of the women are uplifted. We get to meet Benjamin’s mother, though only for a short time, and grow to understand her. We get to see Benjamin fall for “the only woman he would ever love,” Elowen Keene, and follow her life and strife and dreams almost as deeply as his. This deepened understanding of the other people in his story let the thematic elements ring ever more clearly.
At its core, this is a story about time and belonging. Time, or lack thereof, or too much thereof, or the way we as humans push back against its linear nature, is all over this piece. A man aging backwards, who knows he was born at the age of 70, knows exactly how much and how little time he has left. However, it is his lack of sense of belonging that pushes him through his life. Benjamin is a man who is different, and who among us can say that we have never felt different? For most of his life, Benjamin allows this difference to get in his way of living – he runs away at every opportunity and keeps his secret hidden away. It is not until he realizes that home is not the places you go but rather the people you love that he finally finds his way.
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