Forget Flemington. This November, the only race that matters is from 1930, and it’s galloping back to life every night at Sydney’s Hayes Theatre. That’s right, Phar Lap – the racehorse underdog turned champion with an enormous heart who took the cup just once but burns brightly in our national consciousness in museum taxidermies, postage stamps and a film from 1983 played during countless wet-weather days at primary schools – is now the star of his very own musical.
We meet the legendary horse – played with bright-eyed and winningly sweet naivety by Joel Granger (The Book of Mormon) in a horse-eared jockey cap and long red braid – as he arrives on Australian shores from New Zealand. His Kiwi accent is thick, he’s on the skinny side and, while he’d be happier doing dressage, he’ll race – if only because it’s fun – but he can only dare to dream as far as coming second in the Melbourne Cup.
His owner, David Davis (Nat Jobe, Shrek the Musical), has instant buyer’s remorse but the gruff trainer Harry Telford (Justin Smith, The Last Anniversary) sees glory in the young horse’s future: his bloodline is stacked with racing legends, and Telford can feel the potential in his gut. Cue the training montage and slow climb to success.
But when the Wall Street crash of 1929 plunges the world – Australia included – into the Great Depression, desperate gamblers and dodgy bookies are suddenly playing with sky-high stakes. Can an innocent horse and his trainer make it through with their integrity (and their hides) intact?
The book, lyrics and music are all by the writer/composer/musical director Steven Kramer (the associate musical director for the Australian tour of Beauty and the Beast) and his musical is an irreverent love letter to a national treasure. He takes gentle aim at racing culture, which can place horses at risk for the sake of entertaining those with money to burn on bets – something that threatens to disillusion bright-eyed Phar Lap as friends and even his half-brother Nightmarch (Lincoln Elliott, My Brilliant Career) are moved into what he understands to be jobs in the glue factory – but the show keeps its jabs sly, silly and light.
It spends about as much time on the greed and darkness of racing as it does on horse jokes, dad jokes and dad joke-style horse jokes. Even Phar Lap’s death – traumatising in the 1983 film’s opening scenes – is easier to take here: rather than dive into questions of poisoning or injury, we skip to angel wings, horse heaven and one last song-and-dance number.
Phar Lap trains with fellow horses One-One and Two-Two; the races play out as tap-forward dance numbers to honour the metallic ring of horseshoes (the fantastic Ellen Simpson, choreographer of Muriel’s Wedding the Musical, is on duty); Phar Lap’s jockey, Jim Pike (Shay Debney, A Series of Poorly Timed Questions), is a leather daddy with a whip and, like every jockey we see on stage, in possession of a high-pitched speaking voice.
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Kramer has also clearly had fun writing the denizens of the track, from bookies and race-callers to Madam X, real name Maude Vandenberg (Amy Hack, Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown), a real-life betting woman who struggled to get her “unladylike” bets in but who also helped orchestrate a sensational Phar Lap scratching to cash in on a huge payday.
Kramer’s musical chops mean this show runs on the strength of its sound, and he honours the time period with a witty score that blends jazz and swing with contemporary electro-beats (they get a real chance to shine in an unexpected “hoof doof”). The resulting score is irresistibly bright, catchy, and peppered with laugh-out-loud references to everything from the traditional First Call racing fanfare to Swan Lake’s dance of the cygnets.
With musical direction by David Gardos (Chaplin, Finding Neverland) – and Manon Gunderson-Briggs (Come From Away) in a standout role as narrator, race announcer, and guide to the era – the 105-minute-long show is in confident hands and its throwback melodies feel bouncy, fresh and fun.
Directed with equal bounce and comic instinct by the writer-actor-director Sheridan Harbridge (Prima Facie, My Brilliant Career), Kramer’s book shines. Its tight structure and high joke count, coupled with Harbridge’s keen timing, means the show whizzes by – only pausing to make sure we’ve really heard a good punchline.
It’s an excellent production of a promising new musical that could easily scale into a large-stage spectacular or tour regional venues. Let’s hope it gets a chance to ride again: its irreverence and gentle ribbing of national icons taps into one of the best formulas we have for an Australian musical. Put it next to national song-and-dance satires like Keating! and The Dismissal: this musical takes our history, foibles, quirks and scandals and makes them sing.
