Little Miss Sunshine, currently on at Theatre HB in Hastings, is an all-singing-all-dancing rollercoaster of a roadtrip that delivers laughter, gasps, groans, and cheers as the underdog gets her moment in the spotlight. It tells the story of a white-bread family full of misfits thrown together by circumstance. It’s a sprightly romp through middle America in pursuit of ideals: a perfect marriage, dignified old age, beauty and charisma, social acceptance, escape. Always aiming for them, never quite getting there.
The first half of the show struggles, due in part to the set-up and subject matter. The sugar and spice required to carry what is at its heart quite a maudlin narrative is in the second half. To get to the action there is a substantial amount of beige to wade through. Once we’re there though, there’s fun to be had from slapstick physical comedy to banging musical numbers.
Heidi Nobel and Andrew Clibborn, as the imperfect parents bookending the cast, hit their straps towards the end of the first half when some physicality gives them opportunity to stretch out and explore the multidimensionality of their characters.
The shining light is child star Olive, who on opening night is played superbly by Juliette Douglas (with Isla Macklow in the alternate cast). Olive’s wide-eyed innocence coupled with an accomplished performance from 8-year-old Douglas provides respite from the self-absorbed adults around her.
There are some fairly challenging four-part harmonies that are difficult to nail. Duets and solos do far better with standout performances in acting and singing from Jesse Smith and Isobella Comber who take on a number of supporting character roles. Their chemistry is a delight especially as linchpins of the eponymous pageant itself.
The core cast of five do well to carry the story. The morose opening scenes, stark set and simple props mean each cast member must maintain pace to keep the piece moving. With most of the action happening in and around a VW combi it takes creative blocking and clever business to make full use of the stage while maintaining the illusion of being trapped within a claustrophobic dynamic. There is space and time to shoehorn in more activity to propel the cast, and the narrative, forward. Moments of levity are delivered by a miniature chorus of pre-pubescent “mean girls” who bring the spark required to lighten the piece. The trio of young bring comedic relief as well as an example of polished execution.
Little Miss Sunshine is on until 15 November.
