Ordinary Days. Upstairs At The Gatehouse.

Adam Gwon’s shortish, sung-through musical Ordinary Days first appeared in London at the Finborough Theatre in 2008. Since then, it has had numerous off-West End and off-Broadway revivals, and it is easy to see why. The piece’s minimalist setting, catchy tunes, strong quartet of characters, and relentlessly optimistic narrative about love, loss, and self-discovery make it a solid bet.

Director Karl Steele’s production at Upstairs At The Gatehouse plays to the show’s simple strengths: no fancy choreography, next to nothing in the way of set or props, and only a single piano to accompany proceedings. Do not anticipate much plot complexity here, but four top-notch performances and masses of gentle humour make for an engaging evening.

The storyline follows ambitious Deb (a sparky, acerbic Dora Gee), a directionless graduate student searching for meaning in her Virginia Woolf thesis and, more generally, in her deeply unsatisfactory life. “I’m a dork, I moved to New York”, she tells us, but Manhattan is not the problem here. Warren (Aidan Cutler), an aspiring artist who spends his days cat-sitting and is probably gay and probably on the spectrum, finds Deb’s lost notebook. He drops her an e-mail. The two meet up at the Met Museum. An odd-couple friendship beckons if only Deb would chill out and, like the maddeningly cheerful Warren, see beauty in life’s ordinary things.

Meanwhile, bickering romantic partners Claire (Melisa Camba sings beautifully) and Jason (James Edge) are also at the Met. He likes old masters, “give me a portrait where a face is a face”, he tells us. She likes “wackier stuff”. Are the duo’s differences in art appreciation (and in life) irreconcilable? The pair are on the cusp of moving in together, so they better make their minds up. Claire’s unresolved grief at the loss of a former partner complicates matters, as does Jason’s belief that love should be like a fairy tale. This being a feel-good musical, events come to a head over nothing much more threatening than the choice of wine for a dinner party.

Steele directs with confidence, aided by all-around good performances. Gee, in particular, has a talent for comic timing, most evident in a neatly devised scene set in a poorly staffed coffee shop. Bare-bones staging sees the action unfold on nothing much more than a series of wooden boxes. Umbrellas hanging upside down from the ceiling add a Singing in the Rain feel to the piece. This is a simple show, done well, though opinions will vary on whether ordinary New Yorkers are all as resolutely focused on bright-eyed soul-searching as this group.

Music & Lyrics: Adam Gwon

Director:  Karl Steele