This is the hour: ‘Saigon’ cast, old and new, together
(Editor’s Note: Our columnist, the original Kim in the Claude-Michel Schönberg and Alain Boublil musical “Miss Saigon,” performed in the 25th anniversary gala Monday night in London’s West End. This concludes her journal (on this recent trip), which she shares with Inquirer readers.)
Monday, Sept. 22
SCENES FROM A GALA (clockwise from far left): Jonathan Pryce passes red jacket to Jon Jon Briones; two Engineers in the “American Dream” number; Rachelle Ann Go and the author sing a duet; past and present principals take centerstage. Photos by Richard Davenport
Over the weekend, perhaps because of the tiredness from Manila catching up to me, plus the work we’ve been putting in for the gala today, my body was starting to feel a bit run down. I asked to see the doctor in the morning, and lo and behold, it was the same doctor who took care of me 25 years ago! His name is Dr. Keith, well-known by every cast member of (producer) Cameron Mackintosh’s shows in the West End. He looked down my throat and said I might be battling something viral. The only thing he gave me was a Vitamin B12 shot, something to just give me a little boost for the rest of the day. It worked. My doctor from home, Melfred Hernandez, also said to supplement with megadoses of Vitamin C to fight off whatever my body was threatening to catch.
Right after my lovely doctor’s visit (yeah, even with the injection) were interview sessions to be videotaped, with the British Broadcasting Corporation. We were doing these in pairs: Eva Noblezada and myself, Jonathan Pryce and Jon Jon Briones, Simon Bowman and Alistair Brammer.
Immediately after, it was time to prepare for our final technical run-through, in costume and with microphones. As in all technical rehearsals, things took longer than we thought they would. A few numbers were done more than once, just to make sure nothing would go wrong; speeches, too, to ensure they wouldn’t go overtime or become overindulgent. Spacing was checked and rechecked; moments were revisited, some restaged.
Once 4 p.m. hit, we were broken up for dinner.
SINGING with Simon Bowman again after 23 years: “We breathed together, started and ended together.” photo: TIN SAMSON
The actual musical started at 7 p.m. It ran two hours and 45 minutes to an audience that cheered every single number louder than usual. From backstage, I could hear scenes that I wanted to watch, so I would pop down intermittently from the dressing room [I was sharing with Eva] to take a few peeks.
Special performance
After the curtain call, Jon Jon announced something special was coming up, and would everyone please take a glass of champagne while waiting for it. Soon, the lights dimmed.
Behind the curtain, I was preset center stage with lines of original, alumni, and current cast members behind me in the dark. The intro to the presentation began.
I stood in my Rajo Laurel tuxedo, wearing a coolie hat, head bowed. On a particular musical cue, I tilted my head up to the light above me and removed my hat. The sheer curtain then rose to reveal me completely.
The audience response was such, that I could barely hear our overture playing. It felt like a wave of love, 25 years of all this collected emotion coming at us from the audience. It seemed to go on forever. Once things quieted down, it came time to sing lines that I had sung in past Boublil-Schönberg concerts:
This is the hour, this is our land
We found the power in our brother’s hand
Then everyone on stage joined in, first quiet, and as the current “Saigon” principals made their entrance, the singing gradually grew stronger, more celebratory, becoming full-throated and assured toward the end. Then we all made our exit.
A slideshow was then presented, photographs of the original (1989) and revival (2014) productions, side by side. I came out to catch the last few pictures—the final one a photo of myself and Simon, on our knees, in a tight embrace.
Looking at my 18-year-old self, I was incredibly emotional, as it placed me in a time warp that hurtled me back to the first few weeks of previews, the ramp-up to opening night, presenting this character to audiences for the first time and wondering how everything would turn out.
It brought back the memory of first kisses and romantic clinches, writhing in a bar alongside muscled men and lithe women, an oversized fatigue green T-shirt that symbolized enduring love, and singing some of the most beautiful music ever written for the theater.
I realized how incredibly blessed everyone in that original company was, to be part of something much bigger than ourselves, working as one to tell an audience, night after night, the same story: of how a 17-year-old bar girl and a twentysomething American GI fell in love but were torn apart by war… of a sleazy Eurasian pimp and his delusions of grandeur… of people desperately wanting to escape to America to make their dreams come true.
All these came rushing back in just a few seconds, after which it was time for me and Rachelle Ann Go to sing “Movie in My Mind.”
Amazing Shin
Earlier at rehearsal, Cameron and Claude-Michel told us that we could play with the vocals and sing it our way, because we were comfortable on both the concert and musical theater stages.
Shin (Rachelle Ann’s nickname) added ad-libs, while I used a deeper, more grown-up voice. I wasn’t going to sing the song like Kim; that was Eva’s job. I was going to sing it like… me. It was so much fun singing with Shin again. (Damn, this woman is amazing.)
After our duet, I delivered a little spiel about how I had played opposite so many wonderful Chrises… and how no girl ever forgets her first. I then introduced Simon Bowman. Together, we performed “Last Night of the World.”
Singing with him again after so many years (the last time we did was in a Royal Variety Show, in late 1991) felt just like riding a bike. We picked up right where we left off. We’ve had successful careers since “Saigon,” but coming together for this was a combination of muscle memory and actual love.
First proper kiss
He was the first man I ever properly kissed (on stage and otherwise), the one whom my mother and I trusted wholeheartedly. I knew from the start that he would protect me and take
PARTYING after the show (from left): Ray Shell, Peter Polycarpou, Hugh Maynard, the author, Jon Jon Briones, Jonathan Pryce, Alain Boublil, Eva Noblezada, Cameron Mackintosh, Simon Bowman, Claude-Michel Schönberg and Alistair Brammer; back row: Jimmy Johnston and Kwang-Ho Hong. Richard Davenport
care of me on this journey. He was always so wonderful, and our Kim and Chris were in incredible sync. Our mutual respect and affection have endured; thus, everything we did onstage tonight belied the 23-year interruption. We breathed and phrased together, started and ended together.
I learned much about being a romantic leading lady from working with him, so I have carried a little of him to every romantic role I have ever played.
Halfway through the song, we were joined by Eva and Alistair in what choreographer Bob Avian calls our “Follies” moment (for the uninitiated, these are moments when the older and younger selves of characters appear on stage side by side). It was a wonderful, playful moment for the four of us singing together, the younger ones looking at us as their future, and us older ones looking at them as our past.
Original Engineer
After our exit, the first strains of “American Dream” began to play. A pedicab with its hood pulled down drove to center stage. The hood was flipped back to reveal our original Engineer, Jonathan Pryce, seated and wearing his iconic red jacket. The theater erupted in thunderous applause, which did not seem like it would ever end.
He sang the first few verses… changing a few lines, adding to the comedy, making everyone in the house, including backstage, roar with laughter. He’s 67, and couldn’t move as nimbly as before. But he didn’t have to; all he needed to do was stand there. One wave of his hand in a certain way, and that was that. He was The Engineer once more.
There were more dancers who took to the stage at this point than in the actual show—a combination of current and alumni cast members. The stage was filled with boys in turquoise tuxedos (brought on by Jon Jon wearing the same outfit as Jonathan’s), and girls in sparkly red-white-and-blue bikinis.
Cadillac men
When it came time for the Cadillac to come down, instead of just the usual driver and a sexy woman in a fur coat as occupants, it held Cameron (driving the car), Alain (holding a glass of champagne), and Claude-Michel (wearing the fur coat).
Jonathan gave a speech about how “Miss Saigon” was his first musical after an entire career doing Shakespeare and Chekhov.
He said this new production was extraordinary, and that the new Engineer, Jon Jon, was brilliant (he is!). Jonathan then did a symbolic “passing of the jacket,” crowning Jon Jon a most worthy successor. Then Jonathan said his experience in “Saigon” was made even sweeter because of Cameron, Alain and Claude-Michel. It was their cue to speak.
Cameron talked about the musical’s incredible beginning under the helm of Nicholas Hytner, and its return to the West End under Laurence Connor, with Bob Avian as choreographer for both productions.
Alain mentioned that his colyricist, Richard Maltby Jr. was celebrating his birthday on this very night, and was sorry he couldn’t join us. Claude-Michel paid tribute to orchestrator Bill Brohn and the original musical director, Martin Koch.
Cameron said “Miss Saigon” would not have been possible without the original 1989 company. He then called us out on stage to take a bow.
Jon Jon walked out to the center and joined us, but Jonathan and I pushed him to far stage right, where the other current ensemble members stood. At the end of that bow sequence, though, all our 2014 counterparts came to join us: Jonathan by Jon Jon, me by Eva, Simon by Alistair, Peter Polycarpou (original John) by Hugh Maynard, Claire Moore (original Ellen) by Tamsin Carroll (2014 Ellen), Keith Burns (original Thuy) by Kwang-Ho Hong.
We all then sang “Happy Birthday to ‘Miss Saigon’” and started sipping champagne. Red and gold confetti rained on us, as the orchestra played music from the show.
REMNANTS of a party: Flute glasses and champagne bottle, red and gold confetti photo by Tin Samson
Afterparty
A few of us principals stayed on stage for some interviews. Then we headed to the Prince of Wales for a wonderful afterparty, where all of the cast members, crew, production staff, and our families could enjoy a few drinks and yummy cocktails.
I stayed until my feet died. Just as well, as I had a flight the following day to Belgrade (which is where I am right now) for the Il Divo European tour.
I shall be kept aloft by the incredible events of Monday night, celebrating “Miss Saigon”—its glorious past and electrifying present, a brand-new company taking the reins from all the companies that came before, ushering in a new era for this now classic musical. Congratulations to you all!
Happy birthday, “Miss Saigon”! Cheers!
