A folkie musical adapted from F Scott Fitzgerald’s short story about a man who lives life in reverse, relocated to 20th century Cornwall? I approached this prospect with dread, only to find myself both charmed and moved. Writer Jethro Compton and composer Darren Clark’s show, first conceived in 2019, has a directness and simplicity that goes straight for the heart. It features a tight ensemble of actor-musicians led by Jamie Parker in the title role. Their harmonies alone are a source of joy.
Compton, a Cornishman, wrote the book and co-wrote the wittily lolloping lyrics with Clark (sample: “He handed her a saucer/already fantasising about the day he would divorce her”). He also directs and designs a production infused with a potent sense of home and a yearning to belong. Three decades ago I spent a blissful, alcohol-free New Year’s Eve locked in a gaslit pub in Fenland listening to strangers effortlessly jam with fiddles, guitars and bodhran drums: this show reminded me of that night.
In the original story – probably best known now through the 2008 Brad Pitt film – Button is born aged 70 in 1860 but is expected to play with local children, attend kindergarten and apply to Yale: he makes a success of the family business and fights in the Spanish-American War in his middle years but his condition wrecks his relationship with his wife and son before he eventually regresses out of existence.
Here Benjamin is born, complete with a tweed suit, pipe and bowler, in a small fishing village in 1918 and hidden away by his father after his mother kills herself in shame. After 11 years, now aged 59, he escapes and makes it to the Pickled Crab pub where he falls for young barmaid Elowen (soulful, sweet-voiced Molly Osborne). Even though she’s keen they lose each other through shyness and mischance. Benjamin pines and slaves for years in the tin mines and meets Elowen again in wartime Normandy. They marry in 1948, both aged 40.
Their romance is couched as a relationship between the sea and the moon and studded by the momentous events of World War Two and the Apollo lunar landing, but the overarching theme is that human life is short, often fraught, and always precious. The spaces between events in Benjamin’s life are ticked off in precise periods of years, months and days, underlining that every second counts.
The 12-strong cast flow around the stage, strumming and plucking, performing choreographer Chi-San Howard’s stirring, foot-stomping jigs. They build and dismantle sets out of crates and planks and flit easily between multiple characters: costume and associate stage designer Anna Kelsey deftly brings key figures into focus by adding colour to their outfits.
After some awkward “old man” acting in the early scenes, Jamie Parker is an impressive Benjamin, becoming visibly more spry but also more emotionally damaged as the action goes on. Wisely, Benjamin’s final regression into childhood is touchingly described rather than shown.
The plot is vague at times – hardly anyone seems to notice our hero’s condition - but the score is full of rich, lovely numbers and topped and tailed by a wistful Cornish song. Every element of the production feels smoothly integrated, from prop design to orchestrations. A strange case indeed, this musical, but one that is a surprise and a delight.
