A Saint She Ain't
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A Hollywood Spoof: A Saint She Ain’t on the West End
The West End has a knack for hosting eclectic and unexpected theatrical delights, and A Saint She Ain’t fits that mold perfectly. This musical comedy, with a book and lyrics by Dick Vosburgh and music by Denis King, made its London debut at the King’s Head Theatre on April 21, 1999, before transferring to the Apollo Theatre on Shaftesbury Avenue on September 22, 1999. Running for 133 performances until January 15, 2000, the show brought a tongue-in-cheek tribute to 1940s Hollywood musicals to the West End stage, complete with larger-than-life characters and a barrage of puns. Though it didn’t achieve blockbuster status, its playful irreverence and star-studded cast left a memorable mark on London’s theater scene.
Origins and Inspiration
A Saint She Ain’t owes its roots to Molière’s 17th-century farce Le Cocu Imaginaire (The Imaginary Cuckold), a tale of jealousy and mistaken identities. Vosburgh, an American writer with a deep love for classic cinema, reimagined this premise in a 1940s American port town, populating it with caricatures of Hollywood icons like W.C. Fields, Mae West, Jimmy Durante, and Rita Hayworth. Denis King, a British composer known for his versatile scores, crafted a pastiche of jazzy swing and movie-musical melodies, played on just two pianos a nod to the simplicity of wartime film soundtracks.
The show began as an intimate production at the King’s Head, a North London pub theater, under the direction of Ned Sherrin. Its six-week sellout run there, backed by producer Patricia MacNaughton, prompted the West End transfer. Sherrin, a veteran of British satire, saw the Apollo’s larger stage as a chance to amplify the spoof’s exuberance, though some critics felt the shift diluted its cozy charm.
The Plot: A Frenzy of Misadventure
Set against a backdrop of palm trees and wartime nostalgia, A Saint She Ain’t follows Anna Bagalucci (a Rita Hayworth-esque ingenue) and her sailor beau, Danny O’Reilly, as they plan to wed despite her father Ray’s objections. Ray, a malapropism-spouting Jimmy Durante type, guards Anna’s honor, while the sultry Faye Bogle (a Mae West stand-in) sets her sights on Danny, believing he’s fair game. Faye’s husband, Snaveley T. Bogle (modeled on W.C. Fields), misinterprets the chaos, fearing Faye’s infidelity. The plot spirals with tap-dancing lovers, a lost locket, and a wedding-day showdown, all resolved in a flurry of revelations and a happily-ever-after finale.
It’s a whirlwind of silliness think Hollywood fluff meets Molière’s mischief where the central conceit hinges on jealous lovers and absurd misunderstandings. The show leans hard into its spoofy premise, prioritizing laughs over logic, a choice that delighted some and baffled others.
A Musical Pastiche
Denis King’s score is a love letter to 1940s Hollywood, blending swing rhythms with syrupy ballads. Standouts include “The Banana For My Pie,” Faye’s innuendo-laden showstopper that gleefully flouts the Hays Code with lines like “I’ve got the fruit, you’ve got the crust,” and “You’re the Only Star in My Heaven,” a sweet duet for Anna and Danny. Ray’s “I Love to Hold Rose with the Rolled Hose” revels in Durante-esque wordplay, while “I Only Dig That Jive” adds a jazzy bounce.
Performed on dual pianos by King and musical director Chris Walker, the score leans into pastiche rather than originality, echoing the likes of Irving Berlin or Cole Porter without quite matching their bite. Critics noted its charm but lamented the lack of a killer tune to anchor the show’s legacy, with vocals occasionally overshadowed by the cast’s comedic chops.
The West End Run
At the Apollo, A Saint She Ain’t boasted a cast of British comedy heavyweights. Barry Cryer shone as Snaveley, his deadpan Fields impression dripping with booze-soaked quips, while Pauline Daniels vamped as Faye, packing “Banana” with Mae West’s signature swagger. Brian Greene’s Ray stumbled through malapropisms like “horns of a Dalai Lama,” and Rae Baker and Gavin Lee brought tap-dancing charm as Anna and Danny. Corinna Powlesland’s Martha Raye-inspired Trudy added zany flair.
Sherrin’s direction kept the pace brisk, with Lindsay Dolan’s choreography nodding to Gene Kelly’s Hollywood heyday. Paul Farnsworth’s sets palm trees and tacky Technicolor vibes evoked a B-movie soundstage, though some felt the Apollo’s scale stretched the intimacy that worked so well at the King’s Head. The 133-performance run was respectable but modest, reflecting its niche appeal in a West End dominated by flashier fare.
Reception and Beyond
Reviews were a mixed bag. The Evening Standard’s Nicholas de Jongh called it “a triumph of tongue and cheek,” praising its Molière-inspired silliness, while The Times lauded Vosburgh’s “unstoppable words” and Sherrin’s light touch. But The Independent’s Paul Taylor found the Apollo transfer exposed its flaws, with Cryer and Daniels’ impersonations feeling “leaden” in a larger venue. Across the pond, a 2002 U.S. run at the Westport Country Playhouse drew a scathing Variety review, dubbing it “dreadful” and a pale shadow of Dames at Sea.
Despite the critiques, the show earned a loyal following for its sheer daftness. Its journey from pub theater to West End and later to U.S. summer stages showed its pluck, even if an Off-Broadway bid fizzled. The musical’s reliance on dated Hollywood tropes and pun-heavy humor limited its staying power, but its fans cherished its unapologetic glee.
A Saintly Legacy
A Saint She Ain’t may not rank among the West End’s titans, but it’s a quirky footnote in Theatreland’s history a love letter to a bygone Hollywood era, delivered with a wink and a nudge. For 1999 audiences, it was a chance to chortle at Cryer’s Fields, swoon at Baker’s Hayworth, and marvel at Daniels’ West, all wrapped in a package of nostalgic nonsense. In a district known for grand spectacles, this modest spoof carved out a space for silliness, proving that even a saint she ain’t, she could still steal a laugh or two.