Billie Holiday was one of the greatest jazz singers of all time, but she had a difficult life.
She faced racism and abusive partners. She had serious trouble with drugs and drink. She spent a year in gaol.
This production of Lanie Robertson’s play captures brilliantly both the genius and the pain.
The piece consists of a single gig at Emerson’s Bar and Grill. Holiday sings and, between songs, banters.
Zahra Newman’s performance of Billie is absolutely outstanding. Supported by a seriously classy band (Kym Purling, Victor Rounds and Calvin Welch), Newman’s rendition of Holiday’s songs is pure gold. But it’s her performance of the banter that makes this extraordinary theatre. Robertson’s script is an astounding tight rope walk; what could be the drunken ramblings of a traumatised individual becomes a glorious invitation to empathy. Holiday has been hard done by, and despite the beautiful dream that suffering makes us saints, it rarely does. (The fact suffering does not automatically make you better is at least one of the reasons we call it suffering.) Billie is both flawed and worthy of our deepest respect; not because she was a star, but because she was a person. Newman’s portrayal of this Billie is superb, a true image of humanity, a window into the soul.
The only reservation I have about this production is Pepe. Pepe is a dog. Pepe is carried onstage. Pepe may have loved the experience, but it didn’t seem to me he did. I might be wrong; thanks to Newman’s performance, I can understand what it might have been to be Billie, but I really have no idea what it is to be Pepe. We definitely live in the age of call out culture, and if I see injustice, I am to name it. (This appears to be the criteria for modern sainthood.) But, here, I don’t have the necessary certainty; I can only record that Pepe’s presence made me feel uncomfortable.
Paul Gilchrist
Lady Day at Emerson’s Bar and Grill by Lanie Robertson
at Belvoir until Oct 15
Image by Matt Byrne
Theatre Red 