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VSLint Dyer walks into the café at a rehearsal complex in South London. It’s chilly – or as chilly as one can be given the sweltering weather of early September – of a passage from Get Up, Stand Up !, a Bob Marley jukebox musical written by Lee Hall, best known for the screenplay by Billy Elliot. and the following musical, which he co-wrote with Elton John. I see the end of the rehearsal, the finale of the show, which goes from Marley being diagnosed with terminal cancer to a version of Three Little Birds starting tentatively, as if Marley can’t summon the emotions necessary to deliver her message. carefree, then gradually gaining momentum. It’s a truly intriguing repositioning of a song blunted by familiarity, the strength of the performance aided by the fact that, even in a rehearsal studio, with the wig he wears to simulate Marley’s obvious dreadlocks, Arinzé Kene has the late singer’s onstage moves – pointing and gesturing like a preacher, the skanking dance that regularly morphed into a sort of jog in place – full blast.
It remains to be seen how a Bob Marley jukebox will do in the West End. A previous attempt to stage Marley’s life story punctuated by his songs, One Love by Kwame Kwei-Armah, took place in Baltimore in 2015 and at the Birmingham Rep two years later, but Get Up, Stand Up! is a very different proposition. Kwei-Armah’s play focuses on the years Marley spent in exile in England after surviving an assassination attempt in 1976, when “it’s hopefully the whole trip,” as it puts it. Dyer. “I think it’s a lot more of an impressionistic dive into Bob’s heart and mind, so of course we’re embracing what really happened. But as Bob would say, the only real fact is Jah, and I think we are following that kind of line, in that we are trying to convey his ideals and his philosophies. We’re much more interested in getting the essence of Bob than being a dramatic story of his life, or a stage in his life.
Granted, it’s hard to see how the play could have ended up with a more suitable director than Dyer. Not only because of his stellar list of theatrical achievements – he was the first British black man to direct a West End musical (acclaimed 2005, The Big Life nominated by Olivier), he is the only British black artist to have worked at the National Theater as an actor, writer and director, and was appointed deputy artistic director of The National in January – but because he’s obviously a complete fanatic of Marley, obsessed with the differences between the Jamaican recordings of the singer and those he made with an Anglo-American market in mind, intrigued by the complicated relationship between Marley and his wife, Rita.
Dyer tells me that he put his children to sleep when they were babies singing Marley songs to them, despite the fact that the lyrics were “inappropriate – but the melodies were beautiful – they wouldn’t know, so it’s okay.” He said, “I think some people have learned nursery rhymes; I was taught Bob Marley songs. I feel like it’s completely and totally my DNA… We got to know each other through the songs. I was going to school and the only story they wanted to tell me about people who come from countries where I come from was that we were slaves – that was it! So when the Rastas suddenly came up and said, “Well, actually, I think you’ll find…”, it was “What? Most of the time, they did it with humor, they did it with the greatest style and conviction. It was a very seductive way of hearing your truth.
Nevertheless, the production was not without upheaval. There was Covid to deal with – “I had a cold, had a false positive and had to run Zoom for three days while we waited for a PCR,” sighs Dyer, “which was murder”- and last year, Get Up, Stand Up! became part of the ongoing conversation about race in British theater, when its original director, Dominic Cooke, stepped down saying the conversation had “changed … like all of society”. He called Dyer directly to ask him to take his place: they had worked together at the Royal Court when Cooke was artistic director and Dyer directed Rachel De-lahay’s acclaimed play The Westbridge and during Cooke’s revival in 2016 Black Bottom by Ma Rainey at the National. , in which Dyer played seasoned trombonist Cutler.
When I ask Dyer about the phone call, he pauses for so long before answering that at first I think he chooses his words carefully, but no. “So,” he finally begins, “he called me the night before I entered the hospital for cancer treatment. It was one of the weirdest, most dizzying things that has never happened to me. Second time I had cancer – another this time, which was particularly upsetting. I have high blood pressure, so I had to stay alone the night before and rest. So Sunday evening Dominic called. I only answered because there is always an element of him being my boss at the Royal Court: “Dominic! Hi! Hi! Yes, everything is fine! ‘ Things weren’t going so well. And he said he wanted to quit and he wanted me to direct him. I think he had seen Death of England that year “- the National Theater show with Rafe Spall as an angry working-class man mourning his father and his nation, which Dyer co-wrote and directed.
“I guess he thought it was right to resign because of the political situation – you would have to ask him,” Dyer continues. “If he would have [stood aside] and tasked everyone with bringing in someone just because he was black, someone he didn’t think he could, I don’t know. But I don’t think he felt like he was letting him down if I did. He’s laughing. “Ask me to direct a musical about a guy who died of cancer – the irony was not lost on me, trust me!” Dear, oh, dear!
After the announcement, Dyer was asked if any progress had been made on diversity in UK theater. He said he was not optimistic, “Whether or not that guilt turns into something recognizable for people who have suffered… some kind of reparation, that would be an interesting position to put people in.
Today, he adds, “I think what tends to happen is people say, ‘OK, let’s train some black kids,’ and then you have to wait until all these people have. enough experience to then be considered good for the job, and then another generation of people is lost. There is more need to recognize the people who actually did it, under terrible circumstances, and make sure that they are, on the one hand, announced to have survived a fucking tyranny, and two, being given respect and work to justify omitting the story of their talents. There are loads of people out there who are clearly engaged in this industry – they must be damn engaged because they’ve put up with all this bullshit for fucking years – why would you pick a kid then who just finds out if he’s there. like it or not? They shouldn’t have the pressure of the world and the business to say “Look! We try to help diversity; you must be brilliant! ‘ They don’t have to be bright! They don’t have to save your business!
Dyer got the nod after cancer treatment in week two of rehearsals. No, he said, he never thought of refusing the job, on the understandable reason that he already had enough on his plate: outside. ‘”
The challenge, he says, is to produce a piece that projects very familiar music in a new light. “Everyone thinks they know their songs, until they really hear them. So our job is to make sure people really hear them – so do I. You think you know a saying and then you say, “Oh my God, he was really saying that. You think you understand the real power of a song, then you understand that the story behind it means it’s also a personal song, as opposed to just an empowerment hymn. It actually comes from something that happened to Bob, or is a phrase that is very personal to Bob. So what we’re hoping to do is personalize these songs, so that we can get into Bob’s head and heart.
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