Joanna Riding has two Olivier Awards to her name, one for Carousel and the other as a replacement Eliza in My Fair Lady—not to mention further credits ranging from The Witches of Eastwick on the West End to Anne in A Little Night Music at the National Theatre opposite Judi Dench. She’s back this season co-starring opposite cabaret singer Meow Meow in The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, Kneehigh Theatre director Emma Rice’s sung-through adaptation of the bittersweet Michel Legrand film musical about young love. The production is closing on May 21 at the Gielgud Theatre after a shorter-than-expected run, but the style and sass that Riding brings to Madame Emery, mother of the lovesick Genevieve (Carly Bawden), will be long-remembered.
It’s great to have you back on the West End. It has seemed a long time between sightings!
Well, you know, I’m a mum now—my youngest, Louis, is nearly two—and it’s kind of bonkers when you’re trying to juggle home life and a career. You try and keep everything ticking over, so it’s essentially a question of balance, which actually just means muddling through [laughs].
Has being a parent shifted your focus?
Yes, in that it’s not all about the career in the way it once was; it’s more about keeping my craft and my career ticking over, as I say. If I am able to do something different and a little bit challenging and have a really good time, then that’s a bonus—but it can’t be back-to-back [work] as it once was. I wouldn’t want that. That said, my daughter Skye, who’s four, has seen [Umbrellas] three times and adored it; she has quite a good concentration span.
Were you familiar with the 1964 Jacques Demy/Catherine Deneuve film of Umbrellas?
Horror of horrors, I hadn’t actually seen the movie until I was up the part. Seb [Riding’s partner, Sebastien Maillot] had, but many, many moons ago. The show doesn’t really fit into any category—it’s out there on its own, as the film is, and the film is this quirky, chic, slightly bizarre piece that casts a spell over you. I’ve always responded to things that are a bit different. I’m aware that some people love it and others hate it and that the reviews were very mixed, but anything that’s a little bit brave is always going to be divisive. On the whole, we seem to be delighting our audience, and that’s what counts.
Your partner is French, and now here you are playing a French maman!
[Laughs] For a while, I did appear to be chased by all things French. When Seb first came to see the show, he was both delighted and horrified to see how close I’d got to both his mother and his father’s mother, though I can’t in myself say where these characters have come from. I get that costume and that wig on, and something happens: I seem to bring to the stage some previous life.
You do look amazing in that green dress.
That’s my favorite: wasp-waisted and very, very fitted, with that glorious red wig and curls tossing about hither and thither. The outfit forces you to stand and walk in a particular way, and they’ve fattened me out a little in the hips and the bosom, so I feel a bit Mad Men. There’s some Christina Hendricks going on, and a wiggle that I wouldn’t normally have; I’m loving it!
Madame Emery takes a hard line with her daughter, Genevieve, who falls for a mechanic, only to marry someone else once Guy goes off to fight in Algeria. What do you like about the character?
I think she is actually very maternal. When you first meet her in the show, you assume she’s going to be very severe, but she surprises you. The point is, she knows how easy it is to follow the heart, and that is what you do when you’re young. She’s tough on Genevieve because she doesn’t want her daughter to make the same mistakes she might have made herself, but there’s a warmth that comes through that is surprising.
And the entire show is sung!
I’ve done that before, with Martin Guerre, but here it’s as if the dialogue has been dropped into the melody rather than the music being written to accommodate the words, like recitative. We have these lovely Michel Legrand melodies with different themes for each character, and then the soaring “I Will Wait For You,” which does recur—a little too often for some [laughs].
Do you find yourself singing the score in the shower or on the way home?
I never sing my own bits; I always end up humming someone else’s bits!
Now that you’re back on the West End, do you find yourself scanning other shows for possible roles?
Yes, that is precisely what I did with Billy Elliot [in which she took over as Mrs. Wilkinson, the Haydn Gwynne role]. I was looking for a piece of work that appealed to me and would allow me to be in London, and that was the first time I’d rung a casting director and said, “Can I be seen for this?” Sometimes I do think it would be great fun to do Mamma Mia!, or what have you, as long as you’re not standing still. What I have to keep reminding myself is that you never stop learning; you have to keep stretching yourself.
Now that you’re a bit older, you can graduate to a whole new realm of parts. What about Desiree in A Little Night Music?
Well, I experienced Judi Dench doing that role night after night [in 1995, with Riding as Anne], and that’s pretty insurmountable [laughs]. But if a show were to involve Sondheim, yes, of course, because I am a great fan of his, as I am of Frank Loesser. I also want to do more straight roles, like Maggie Hobson in Hobson’s Choice, which I got to do up in Manchester. I never intended my career to be in musical theater, that’s just the way it went—and rather magnificently, especially when I was working at the National on Carousel, Guys and Dolls and Night Music. But for me, it’s never been about the songs, it’s always about the character. The song is just another piece of dialogue for the character.
Does it feel odd that Cherbourg will close at the end of May, rather than playing through September?
No, insofar as the process has been a happy one and there is solidarity in the company. We do have another seven weeks. I’ve done plays in regional theater that only had a life span of six weeks, anyway, so I feel as if we will have had a decent spell. What matters is that I’ve had a ball doing it, and that’s the marker for me. Whether the show’s a hit or not matters less than if I had a good time. That’s what counts.