STAGE: The Last Ship

The musician Sting grew up in the shadows of the shipyards of Wallsend, near Newcastle in northeast England. His stage musical The Last Ship, now playing at the Ahmanson at the start of a national tour, draws on that heritage and experience in telling a multi-layered story of what happens to a small community whose livelihood and whole way of life is bound up with one industry, when that industry is in decline. There are some personal stories in here, about children who want to escape the town, and who chafe against stepping into their fathers’ boots and working in the shipyard like their fathers and grandfathers. And there is a romance suspended when one young man did escape. But the crux of this haunting work is about the shipyard workers and their families, and how they react when the last shipyard is closing down and the last nearly-completed ship is to be torn up for scrap rather than finished. There are some wonderful songs and strong performances in this evocative production, further bolstered by a marvelous set which, through clever use of lighting and projection, transforms from home to pub to shipyard to ship to a seawall where you can see and almost feel the spray of the waves crashing up on it. Though some complained that the show is long, we enjoyed it and found the music, story, and characters engaging. And though it’s set in a specific distant place and time (1980s England), I found it quite relevant and thought-provoking. On the surface, it is a simple union workers versus “the man” story with no pretense about where its sympathies lay. The good salt-of-the-earth union folks are distinct, fleshed-out characters that we get to know and like, while the owner/manager appears just enough to propel the plot, and the government is represented by “Baronet Tynedale”, a thinly veiled caricature of Margaret Thatcher. But the play is actually more thoughtful, giving some depth to the predicament. The workers understand their dilemma, acknowledging that they have only bad choices, and even understanding (while trying not to think about it) that the shipyard may actually come to an end. And while the baronet is cold and charmless, it’s hard to argue with the facts of economic reality that she delivers. There’s no buyer for the ship they’re building because it’s too expensive, and British shipbuilding is no longer competitive on the world market. It is no small irony that this last ship’s name is Utopia, as it is going nowhere. The climax of the show manages to be dramatically very satisfying, while also giving due to the unresolved socio-economic issues that linger. I was still thinking about them days later, even as some of the tunes still sang in my head.