Before getting to the lowdown on I Wish You Well, billed as “The Gwyneth Paltrow Ski-Trial Musical” — book and additional lyrics by Roger Dipper, music and lyrics by Rick Pearson, direction by Shiv Rabheru, choreography by Arlene Phillips — there are two things a potential I Wish You Well-goer might want to know:
- The first words heard in the bumptious enterprise are: “Before we begin, take a deep breath. What’s that smell? It’s my vagina.” This, for those unfamiliar with Paltrow’s health and wellness brands, is a reference to her much-publicized vagina-scented candles as well as a nod at her frequent feminist statements.
- For the musicalization, Paltrow’s business name Goop is altered as Poop. For a short time, a few of the four cast members even wave large fans reading Poop. This, for those wincing, is a tip-off to the level of humor too often shoved into the 60-minute entertainment, now arriving at the West End following a celebrated bow at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe.
Perhaps at this point, readers who recall the funny old phrase “too pooped to pop” — readers who may even remember Chuck Berry’s “Too Pooped to Pop” — could be wondering if I Wish You Well pops. The answer is a resounding, resonant, throbbing yes. It pops like a son of a gun.
The set-up is that the four players – The X Factor beloved Diana Vickers as Paltrow (a wow of a lookalike), Tori Allen-Martin as Utah prosecuting attorney Kristin VanOrman, Mark Antolin as plaintiff and retired optometrist Terry Sanderson, and Idriss Kargbo as Judge Jude — spoof the broadly watched court proceedings. It might be thought that the real-time hijinks were spoof enough, but they’re nothing next to what goes on here at the highest decibel levels seemingly available.
Perhaps the keenest observation bookwriter Dipper makes as I Wish You Well speeds by is building on lawyer Kristin’s treating Gwyneth during her examinations as a cordial chum. As much as she wants to win a case for her client, of course, her hidden aim is becoming a Gwyneth bff. And make no mistake, at the trial VanOrman did give off such vibes. Allen-Martin, whose plastered-on smile is omnipresent, makes the most of her opportunities, not least of which is an air-piercing voice.
As for the other figures, Dipper doesn’t quite extrapolate characteristics from them as much has he finds supposedly hilarious antics for them. Vickers’ Gwyneth carries on banshee-like a good part of the time, which the actual Gwyneth, more the serious but pleasant businesswoman-sometime actress, did not. For his take on Sanderson, Terry is on-and-off campy. At one merry moment he lowers his trousers to reveal red-sequined underwear and black net stockings. (David Shields is the designer.) It’s unlikely the real Terry turned to these fashions after claiming lasting physical damage as part of his legal claims. Kargbo’s Judge Jude, announcing his sister is (ha-ha-ha!) Judge Judy, is an even more flamboyant figure, shedding his robes at one rousing juncture and, of a sudden wearing glittering white, dives into a sizzling dance where his several splits win cheers.
About Pearson’s 11-song score, with the additional Dipper words, more might be said. But as played by musical director Debbi Clarke, guitarist Dominic Barker, and drummer Joel Mulley-Goodbarne, more might only be claimed if it weren’t sung and then amplified so that the resultant shattered air is transformed into ear-battering pellets. (Dan Samson is the sound designer, although he may not be the leading sound decider.)
And by the way, Allen-Martin isn’t the lone strong singer. They all are — as well as tireless performers — but they’re encouraged to belt such that those belts practically have the effect of lashings. The upshot is that the songs blend into each other, eventually becoming one long number. The lyrics are too often lost altogether. It’s almost as if the creators, director Rabheru among them, aren’t interested in what the songs express. Rather, they just want them forcibly knocking the audience over the head through the musical’s sixty-minute duration.
The title tune, as many trial watchers know, is a reminder of what the collision-on-the-slippery-slopes trial-winner Paltrow whispered in trial-loser Sanderson’s ear as she was on the way to collect her one-dollar settlement. “I wish you well,” she graciously imparted. It’s clear the I Wish You Well producers et al wish their product is likewise wished well. Unfortunately, with ears and intelligence assaulted, it’s not that easy to do.
I Wish You Well opened September 11, 2024, at the Criterion Theatre (London) and runs through October 12. Tickets and information: criterion-theatre.co.uk
