London's hottest theatre ticket,
Mamma Mia!, makes its North American debut at the Royal Alex by Robert
Maurin
If you took a handful of truckers or bikers - any burly, cliché- macho, testosterone-oozing guy, the kind of guy who might have a DISCO SUCKS tattoo from the 70's inked onto his forearm and who still thinks it was a good idea - and put each one in a room with a hidden camera, and began to play ABBA hits on an unobtrusive stereo system, what would happen? I suggest - wholly unscientifically, but my hunch is strong - that behind closed doors, with nobody around, even they would start grooving, and could sing almost every word with missing a beat. Just like you and me. That is the ABBA phenomenon.
ABBA was launched to superstardom on April 6, 1974, when they wowed England's Eurovision Song Contest with "Waterloo." For the next seven years, they bounced along at the top of record charts across the globe, pumping out hit after cheery, optimistic hit. Critics, professional and (mostly) not, have often criticized ABBA's music as ephemeral, cloying geek rock with bad lyrics (to wit: "Nina pretty Ballerina now she is the queen of the dancing floor," "I cross the stream I have a dream," " Bang a boom-a-bommerang dum dee dum dum da dum dee dum dum dum"). But here I am, about 20 years since the last time I admitted to listening to an ABBA album, and I still know all the words. And just like the hypothetical truckers offered above, I do a little bouncing and head-bopping when the music sneaks into my life.
Thought it's been 18 years since the group split up, with this sort of hold on their original fans, plus a generation of new followers who are too young to have ever heard ABBA on eight-track, it's no surprise that Mamma Mia!, the musical inspired by everybody's favourite Swedish supergroup, continues to break box-office records in London's West End. Björn Ulvaeus, one of ABBA's two men (the beardless one way back then, though he has a beard now), was in Toronto when the show began rehearsals. The flashy clothes and platform boots have been replaced with simple denim and a black blazer, thank goodness, but the smile is still there. "When I look at that guy 25 years ago in leotards, I cringe," he laughs. Down-to-earth and approachable, he described, in English with a near-pure London accent, how this unlikely show, "a musical we didn't know we had written," came about. "I had a vision of what an ABBA musical could be: uplifting, funny, touching and above all," he says, grinning mischievously, "with a lot of hits."
The
vision wasn't enough, though. This was not to be a biographical play about the
life, times, love and divorces of Agnetha, Benny Björn and Anni-Frid. The
members of ABBA aren't nearly so self-involved or they would have accepted offers
reputedly as high as $1 billion to reunite. Enter Catherine Johnson, a British
playwright. "She listened to our music again and again to find out how a
story could be woven around the collection. She soon found that the songs from
the earlier part of our career...were sort of oriented towards a teenage audience
more than those from the latter part, which were more mature. So the idea was
born that it could be about women of two generations."
More Muriel's Wedding than ABBA: The Play, Johnson's story takes place on a Greek island where a single mother, Donna, runs a taverna with her daughter, Sophie. Sophie is about to get married, and though she wants her dad to give her away, Donna won't tell which one of three former loves is Sophie's father. ("She was one of those fiercely independent '70s women," says Ulvaeus. "I was married to one myself..") So Sophie invites all three to the wedding, and we have ourselves a plot. By some accounts, it's not much of one, merely a vehicle that strings together the songs. But nearly everyone says that the show is such a fun, feel-good event, it does the trick of justifying 22 ABBA hits quite magically. Audiences howl at the obvious setups for the songs, seeing tunes like "Chiquitita," "Money, Money, Money" and "Take a Chance on Me" coming miles away, and then joyfully mouthing the words along with the actors.
Toronto's is only the second production in the world for Mamma MIA! At their first rehearsal, when the all-Canadian cast first met Ulvaeus, every one of them was cheering, clapping and stomping like groupies at a concert. For them as for us, ABBA is a memorable part of the past. Louise Pitre, the powerhouse singer/actor who plays Donna, admits that there might be a bit of typecasting in her role. "It makes me sad to think that I can play the mother of a twentysomething, [but] I was one of those '70s women, I'm afraid...I mean, in the '70s, when I went to university, I was the dancing queen." At the other generational end, Adam Brazier plays Sophie's fiancé, Sky. Like Pitre, he connects personally with the music he'll soon be singing. "I have a picture of myself at the age of two, sitting in my high chair with headphones on, listening to ABBA. In the photo, you can see the ABBA symbol on the record." Tina Maddigan, who plays Sophie in the biggest role of her young career, remembers "bouncing on the sofa as a child at home in Newfoundland, listening to ABBA records." ABBA fans know no generational lines.
The London show is still sold out months in advance, and the Toronto production is showing all signs of doing the same. Mamma MIA!'s first-day ticket sales reached 10,500 smashing Rent's first-day total of 4,000. Discs such as ABBA Gold, which have been on the Billboard charts since the early '90s, also help convert new fans and re-establish old ones.