The advertising for
The Umbrellas of Cherbourg says it's a French romance that just happens to be sung. There are several words in that sentence that might put you off but none of them should, this is a really lovely tale about love and war, jazz and vin rouge and sunsets watched from ports, and other things the young build their lives around.
Her Mum owns an umbrella store
First it was a well loved, candy-coloured
film, of the same name, equally musical, and now it's being put on at the
Gielgud Theatre, using largely the same score, by Michel Legrand. Augmented with a sprinkling of his other greatest hits. And some of the same sung script.
He comes back to Cherbourg, early and wounded from fighting in Algeria, to find her gone and is naturally disappointed. But it's not quite the end of their love story.
The story is of your basic young girl meets young boy variety. They fall in love –
well, this is France circa 1957 - and pledge themselves to each other. Her mother says 'no', in that short French way, or at least not until he's completed his national service, before which they consummate their affections. Once he's left town for Algeria and the greater part of the next bit of her future, our young girl finds that he's left her with more than just memories, she's also expecting, so it's convenient that a dashing, and rather wealthy, diamond dealer has just brushed into town and offered to marry her on the spot.
Je t'aime
There's a lot of charm to this tale already, yet additional charm is added in the form of a cabaret star and a host of dancers in Breton stripes. Conversely the cabaret star delivers some of the productions only non-sung words.
There's a challenge in singing everything, it means that the banalities of day to life, the harshness of war, the fear of teenage pregnancy and the wonder of love all receive the same treatment and sort of flow into one. Which creates a feeling of the experience washing, deliciously, and romantically over you.
