A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum
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A Riotous Romp: A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum on the West End
The West End has long been a playground for theatrical ingenuity, and few musicals embody its penchant for uproarious comedy quite like A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum. This farcical masterpiece, with music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim and a book by Burt Shevelove and Larry Gelbart, first crossed the Atlantic to London’s Strand Theatre on October 3, 1963, following its Broadway triumph. A gleeful mash-up of Roman farce and vaudevillian hijinks, the show has returned to the West End in multiple revivals, cementing its status as a beloved classic that proves “comedy tonight” is timeless.
Origins and Inspiration
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum was born from a desire to marry ancient comedy with modern flair. Shevelove and Gelbart drew inspiration from the works of Roman playwright Plautus, particularly his plays Pseudolus, Miles Gloriosus, and Mostellaria, weaving their slapstick plots into a single, chaotic narrative. Sondheim, then a rising star after West Side Story, provided a score that matched the book’s irreverence with witty, buoyant melodies. The musical premiered on Broadway in 1962, directed by George Abbott and choreographed by Jack Cole, winning six Tony Awards, including Best Musical.
Its West End debut came a year later, directed by Abbott with Harold Prince producing and Tony Walton designing the sets. Starring British comedy legend Frankie Howerd as Pseudolus, the production brought a distinctly local flavor to the Roman revelry, delighting London audiences with its bawdy humor and breakneck pace.
The Plot: Chaos in Ancient Rome
Set in a bustling Roman street lined with three houses, the story follows Pseudolus, a cunning slave desperate for freedom. His master, Hero, a lovestruck young Roman, promises Pseudolus liberty if he can secure the hand of Philia, a dim-witted courtesan from the house of procurer Marcus Lycus. Philia, however, is already betrothed to Miles Gloriosus, a pompous Roman captain. What ensues is a whirlwind of mistaken identities, cross-dressing, and outrageous schemes.
The plot thickens with characters like Senex, Hero’s lecherous father; Domina, his domineering wife; and Hysterium, the neurotic head slave, whose panic fuels the farce. From a fake funeral to a chase involving eunuchs and a “plague,” the story barrels toward a riotous conclusion where love triumphs and Pseudolus earns his freedom all while the audience roars with laughter.
Sondheim’s Playful Score
Stephen Sondheim’s music for Forum is a departure from his later, more complex works, embracing a light, vaudevillian spirit. The opening number, “Comedy Tonight,” sets the tone with its promise of “something appealing, something appalling,” delivered by Pseudolus with a wink. Songs like “Love, I Hear” captures Hero’s youthful swooning, while “Pretty Little Picture” revels in sly innuendo. “Everybody Ought to Have a Maid,” a quartet for Senex, Pseudolus, Hysterium, and Lycus, is a cheeky highlight, its rapid-fire lyrics dripping with mischief.
The West End productions leaned into the score’s accessibility, with orchestrations that popped in the Strand Theatre and later venues like the Piccadilly Theatre (1986 revival). Sondheim’s early genius shines through, balancing catchy tunes with clever wordplay that nods to both Plautus and Broadway tradition.
The West End Journey
The 1963 West End premiere ran for 762 performances, a smashing success driven by Frankie Howerd’s inimitable Pseudolus a role he reprised in the 1966 film adaptation. His mugging, asides to the audience, and impeccable timing made the show a personal triumph, earning raves like Kenneth Tynan’s quip that Howerd was “a vulgarian of genius.” The production’s simple set a colorful Roman streetscape kept the focus on the physical comedy and rapid-fire dialogue.
The musical returned in 1986 at the Piccadilly Theatre, directed by Peter Coe, with Ronnie Corbett stepping into Pseudolus’s sandals alongside British stalwarts like Roy Kinnear as Lycus and Ruth Madoc as Domina. This revival ran for over 200 performances, refreshing the farce for a new generation. A 1999 concert staging at the Mermaid Theatre, starring Desmond Barrit, further underscored its enduring appeal, though full-scale revivals have been sporadic since.
A Recipe for Laughter
What makes Forum a West End staple is its unrelenting commitment to comedy. The show thrives on lowbrow gags slapstick falls, bawdy puns, and outrageous disguises delivered with highbrow precision. Its Roman setting is a mere backdrop for universal humor, from marital spats to the eternal quest for freedom and love. The ensemble, including the dim-witted courtesans and Lycus’s scheming slaves, keeps the energy frenetic, while Pseudolus’s fourth-wall-breaking narration ties it all together.
For London audiences, the show’s British comedic sensibilities think music hall meets Carry On meshed seamlessly with its American roots. Directors often tailored the tone to local tastes, amplifying the farce with exaggerated accents and topical asides, ensuring each revival felt fresh yet familiar.
A Lasting Legacy
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum has never matched the marathon runs of some West End giants, but its influence endures. It launched Sondheim’s career as a composer-lyricist, proving he could master light comedy before tackling darker themes in works like Sweeney Todd. On the West End, it set a standard for farce-driven musicals, paving the way for shows like The Producers that revel in theatrical absurdity.
Its intermittent revivals each a burst of Roman chaos remind audiences why it remains a “funny thing.” The 1963 production’s success introduced London to a new breed of musical comedy, while later stagings kept the laughter alive. In a district known for spectacle, Forum proves that a clever script, a killer score, and a troupe of clowns can outshine even the grandest chandelier.
Comedy Tonight and Beyond
For West End theatergoers, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum is a joyous escape a chance to revel in the silliness of ancient Rome through a modern lens. Whether it’s Howerd’s sly grins or Corbett’s pint-sized bravado, the show’s Pseudoluses have left an indelible mark on London’s stage. As Sondheim’s lyrics promise, it delivers “tragedy tomorrow, comedy tonight” a pledge the West End has gleefully honored time and again. In the pantheon of musical theater, this Roman romp remains a hilarious, timeless treasure.