Göteborgs-Posten 2025-06-06
By: JOHAN LINDQVIST
The musical Änglagård (House of Angels) is a strong story about fear and xenophobia. At the same time, one happily plays with all the possibilities of the musical.
Star Helen Sjöholm sparkles in every scene (…)
House of Angels has a generous abundance of Edward af Sillén’s witty, quick-witted and often reference-elegant humor. Smart, popular winks are mixed with a bit of ham-acting and it’s nice that there’s room for both.
In the conscious play with different styles and traditions, the script hooks up with Fredriks Kempe’s music. He and Sillén both come from schlager and Eurovision and when that competition is at its most entertaining, it’s free in all its broad, burlesque and pounding romantic expressions. The love for that kind of entertainment burns like a flame throughout the musical.
Kempe sneaks in splashes of Abba here and there
It’s a joy to hear how Kempe sneaks in splashes of Abba here and there as a homage to the masters Björn and Benny.
But the music is even richer than that. The rural environment in Yxared is drawn with the help of a folk music tone that is included in the introduction and then returns at regular intervals. Both in a sheer form and in the joyfully swinging En enkel gubbe.
Here, Kurt Weill’s cabaret music as well as French chanson and neatly cut glam pop also pass through. We get Nanne Grönwall’s punchy Kött och blod and Sticka, sticka that sounds like it was taken from a prog 70s musical. Of course, also parade numbers like the pompous but still restrained Farfars händer – incredibly tastefully sung by Fredrik Lycke. Who then makes a perfect musical duet with Helen Sjöholm in Moln av vita lögner.
Tommy Körberg takes the chance to be a cozy uncle
Helen Sjöholm, in the role of Rut, is the engine of the story and the brightest star of the show. A smart adjustment from the screenwriter, the film is based more on Fanny and Zac, and a casting that is indisputable.
Wow, what a singer and actor she is. Helen Sjöholm sparkles in every scene, regardless of whether she does it alone or in an ensemble.
Tommy Körberg takes the chance to be a cuddly uncle but lets that voice loose a few times. Not least in Ljusa minnen.
Körberg, who seems to have a lot of fun on stage, shows his brilliance even with small means. Like when he seemingly spontaneously and with a mischievous smile hangs on a little tail of blues towards the end of one of his songs.
The stinging, blackened and very clear message about prejudice, xenophobia and the fear of the unknown remains from the movie. Even stronger and more relevant now than then.
Towards the end, the walls break down as the characters in the story dare to face themselves and others in different ways. Facades crack, lies burst and hearts open (…)