By Marilyn Lester***It’s probably safe to say that Noël Coward (1899-1973) was the Stephen Sondheim of his day. Of course he was quite, quite English, yet also accessible to appreciative Americans (listen to Steve Ross’ “Mrs. Worthington,” for example, to understand why). Coward, certifiably a genius, wrote music and plays and more. Notable for his keen obs
ervations and sharp wit, like Sondheim, Sir Noël isn’t necessarily easy to perform. Jason Henderson, in Getting To Noël You at Don’t Tell Mama, possibly channeling the man himself, made it look easy, guided by the direction of Barry Kleinbort.
New Zealander Henderson, with charm galore, a mellow singing voice and a delightful accent to match, had a leg up on Coward diction, bringing song lyrics to life with meaning sometimes lost on American ears—particularly when sung by performers not necessarily up to clearly shaping some of the twists, turns and demands of the songs. Henderson proved his metal throughout, and for a prime example of the excellence of his delivery there was “Why Do the Wrong People Travel,” a biting tune about low-brow American tourists.
But perhaps more than “a talent to amuse” as Cowar
d had self-described, Henderson matched the master in drollery and badinage, and with perfect timing. His narrative was brilliantly constructed—clever, witty, literate and funny as can be. Yet, lurking beneath the surface were layers of seriousness about striving, home and leaving home, forging ahead, setting goals, creating a new life reality and more. And wait for it—all of this framed by the metaphor of Henderson’s various day jobs as an office worker. The alignment of Coward to the text was sublimely perfect: Henderson at some point in his young life noticed there’s a Noël Coward song for every life circumstance. Imagine the Master beckoning to young Jason, à la “Come to Me,” that there’s a panacea for every occasion.
Concurrent with office work, was Henderson’s goal of coming to New York to be part of the cabaret and theatrical communities. Visa limitations and then Covid interrupted that journey. Meanwhile, in the office, little dramas played out. A loud phone call emanating from a n
earby co-worker’s cubicle was matched with ““The End of the News.” The obligatory office party was, of course, addressed in “I’ve Been to a Marvelous Party.” An unsuccessful office romance: “If Love Were All.” Yet it was Henderson’s diatribe against the office copy machine that was the most hilarious and also thought-provoking in “World Weary.” A bonus of this pairing was that Henderson’s renditions were presented with a contemporary, modern lift. Aiding Henderson in their fine delivery was music director-pianist Christopher Denny, whose skill on the eighty eights was nonpareil.
Henderson has recently graduated from The Neighborhood Playhouse School of the Theatre. His last journey to New York City from his homeland was beautifully captured in an au revoir: “I’ll See You Again.” Poignantly, “I Travel Alone” and “Sail Away” saw his arrival on these shores to start a new life. A dream come true was echoed in “I Like America.” 
Now on the cusp of working on a visa that allows him to stay in the USA, he acknowledges that “This is a changing world, my dear/ New songs are sung—new stars appear.” (“This Is a Changing World”).
Summing up, Henderson reveals that what he’s come to know most deeply is, that when all is said and done, it’s people that matter. He ended with a beautiful and evocative rendition of one of Coward’s most magnificent ballads (too little known and too little performed), “Come the Wild, Wild Weather.” Its final lyric, “For wherever we chance to go/we shall always be friends” reveals the depth and pleasure of a remarkable evening, tied with a marvelous bow.
See this show. See it again. Getting to Noël you is reprised on October 26 at Don’t Tell Mama.
Photos by Jeff Harnar
