Blonde Bombshells are fun but flawed

SWINGING from light nostalgic comedy through a gritty piece of WW2 girl-power to a full-blown big band concert, there's a smoothness to this production which almost, but not quite, makes up for its lack of focus.

There again, a play about an all-female big band in 1943 (the Blonde Bombshells of the title) is highly likely to pick up on those three elements.

The difficulty is that in trying to be all of those things, Blonde Bombshells of 1943 ends up being none of them. And while it passes for a perfectly acceptable piece of general entertainment, the anticipation of something more particular makes the reality a bit of a let down.

There are some good performances, however. Enough to carry the very slight plot – the band is desperately auditioning new players in time for their big break on the BBC that night – while creating some slick and credible musical moments.

The four existing members of the band – embittered Australian pianist May, hard-drinking war-widows Vera and Grace on trumpet and bass and their leader, the single-minded Betty – all succeed in creating characters who are reflected in the way they play their instruments.

While they all put in solid performances, it is newcomer Bethany Audley as schoolgirl, Liz, who really stands out. She creates and maintains that sense of teenage gawkishness, without overdoing it.

Which cannot be said of Siena Lloyd as Lily, a nun, and Helen Power as Miranda, a posh driver from the army. While both actresses visibly try to hold back, their characters are written with such broad brushstrokes that it is very hard to be subtle.

Ironically, Matt Connor as Patrick, a drummer who is on the run from being called up and who ends up performing as a Bombshell in drag, creates a degree of subtlety.

Nostalgia is the biggest bugbear here, thanks largely to all those sugary, lightly comedic looks at the WW2 Home Front on TV. Which, of course, includes playwright Alan Plater's original The Last of the Blonde Bombshells.

Plater does succeed in making many references to the staple nostalgic elements integral to the plot. May's promise to visit Liz's parents with nylons and whisky to smooth their approval of Liz joining the band is a case in point.

On the whole, however, his use of this nostalgia is in such a shorthand manner as to appear cliched. And it makes any gritty examination of one particular aspect of how women took over traditionally male jobs during the war become lost in a series of increasingly smutty jokes.

At times, it even feels as if the whole audition process is delaying the time when the band can get down to some serious music making – rather than creating a sense of anticipation for that moment.

It is as if director Mark Babych didn't know what he wanted.

He's taken a whole load of carefully-constructed elements and some excellent performances but singularly failed to build anything unique with them.

The musical direction, however, is very tight. The concert finale delivers all the promised goods in a memorable set of tunes to hum on the way home. Fun but flawed.

Run ends tomorrow