Titanique at the Criterion Theatre review: get on board with this outrageous Celine Dion parody
God knows we all need cheering up right now: and this archly camp spoof of James Cameron’s 1997 blockbuster Titanic, repeatedly interrupted by the songs and the presence of an air-punching, faux-modest Celine Dion, might be the show to do it.
It comes from the American school of wilfully schlocky, sloppy gay parody, packed with pop culture references, always seemingly on the brink of hysteria and collapse.
For instance: Layton Williams plays a generic sailor character called Seaman and later channels Tina Turner as the silver-clad “Iceberg Bitch” determined to sink the liner; and he is still probably only the third most outrageous thing on stage.
Titanique started life in 2017 in LA as a one-off concert created by writers Marla Mindelle and Constantine Rousouli, orchestrator and arranger Nicholas James Connell and director Tye Blue, and became a hit off and on Broadway.
Today, Blue’s production still has the air of a cabaret performance, with the cast, band and backing singers occupying a stepped set only lightly suggestive of nautical architecture. A giant, cheap replica of the movie’s McGuffin, the blue diamond necklace, hangs above.
At the start, Quebecoise diva Dion (Lauren Drew) hijacks a tour of the Titanic museum to insist she was on the boat when it sank in 1912. She proceeds to retell the film’s cross-class romance between Rose (Kat Ronney) and Jack (Rob Houchen) so that it’s pretty much all about her.
Each of the film’s tentpole moments – the couple “flying” on the prow and Irish-dancing in steerage; the “paint me like one of your French girls” sex scene; the sinking and the floating-door denouement – is recreated with wry, lo-fi wit.
There are countless filthy jokes, sideswipes at other musicals including Sunset Blvd and The Devil Wears Prada, and an extended, digressive pastiche of RuPaul’s Drag Race.
The most prominent insertion though is Drew’s hilarious Dion. Dressed in a sparkling, slash-thighed frock and matching pants, she hunkers down to a succession of the singer’s power ballads like a prop entering a scrum.
Her expert pastiche of the singer’s lung-busting stylings and yodelling arpeggios are laced with whoops, squawks and mock-sincere, glutinously-accented asides about how much she “lurves” us.
Houchen’s Jack is a little insipid and off-key but Ronney has a fine voice and a natural comedian’s knack of playing every scene dead straight. There’s a screamingly OTT, scene-stealing turn from Stephen Guarino as Rose’s controlling mother and strong vocal and comedic support from Jordan Luke Gage as her fiancé Cal.
Some of the contemporary references and in-jokes fall flat, and there are arguably too many of Dion’s honking, identikit anthems even for a 100-minute show.
But this gorgeous, bijou, inside-out wedding cake of a theatre seems to work best as a home for anarchic parodies, from The 39 Steps to Pride and Prejudice* (*sort of). Let’s hope Titanique floats here.
Booking to March 30, titaniquemusical.com.
