Jethro Compton directs and designs this lively musical as well as providing the book and writing the lyrics along with composer Darren Clark. He borrows the basic outline of the story from one that F Scott Fitzgerald published in Collier’s Magazine in 1922 but, like the Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett film of the same name, reinvents it.
Compton begins the action not in America in the mid-nineteenth century but in Cornwall in 1918 at the end of the First World War where, in a little fishing village, pregnant Mary Button is delivered not of a baby but of an already old man who comes, it seems, complete with tweed suit, walking stick and bowler hat. “Baby” Benjamin is destined not to grow older but to regress, becoming ever younger. Once you accept that curious concept, this becomes a serious tale free of whimsy.
This isn’t a sunny Cornwall of sunshine and surfing and beach games but a much darker place where the wind and the waves, the time and the tide mark out life with the narration constantly reminding not just of time passing but of the exact day and hour of each point of the action.
Benjamin’s mother can’t handle what has happened and flings herself to her death from a clifftop. His distraught father keeps his son hidden. Years pass before Benjamin insists on going out into the village, and for the first time encounters barmaid Elowen who will become the love of his life, a woman who will age as he becomes younger, a woman he will marry when they both reach forty.
John Dagleish somehow seems to grow younger as Benjamin, touchingly innocent and uncertain, stressed in his relationships by what he knows is his fate. After years pass, former friend Jack, companion for years in the fishing fleet and then in the Navy, won’t believe that he has ever known this now-young man.
Benjamin’s shyness and their circumstances prevent his relationship with Elowen flowering—it is not until they meet again in the Second World War that they really pair up and 1948 before they get married—this is not just their story, but he shares his hopes with her. Looking up at the moon, he dreams of man going there—and does live to see it happen, though reaching babyhood, he won’t remember.
Clare Foster is delightful as Elowen, accepting their predicament but wanting to enjoy being together while they can. She sings beautifully too, especially in her duets with Dagleish, but this cast of actor-musicians is full of good voices.
Darren Clark’s music echoes folksong; it is full of rich sounds with fast-paced, jig-like dance numbers that the cast perform nimbly, often while still playing their instrument. A nice touch is a number in Kernewek, the old Cornish language.
Essentially an ensemble piece, there are fine contributions from Philippa Hogg and Benedict Salter as Benjamin’s parents and Jack Quarton as shipmate Jack. This is a tale told in sprightly musical narrative with only key moments fully re-enacted, which conveniently overcomes problems in staging some things and glosses over the unrealities of the story, but though Benjamin’s life is heavily shadowed, it is the joy of its telling and the surge of its songs that make this such an enjoyable experience.