Hercules - Review

Theatre Royal Drury Lane, London

**

Music by Alan Menken

Lyrics by David Zippel

Book by Robert Horn and Kwame Kwei-Armah

Directed and choreographed by Casey Nicholaw

Luke Brady

Rarely does a show descend from the pantheon of animated Hollywood class to the underworld of live-action West End mediocrity, but so it is with the legend of Disney’s Hercules that sees a gloriously witty movie regress into an evening of overpriced tedium.

It is hard to know where to rest the blame for this Herculean disappointment. Does it lie with Robert Horn and Kwame Kwei-Armah for their luke-warm, cliche-riddled book? Or with Casey Nicholaw for sloppily helming an overly camped-up show that is riddled with wardrobe and prop malfunctions? Or with James Ortiz and Dane Laffrey’s designs whose clunky depictions of beasts and monsters appear to have learned nothing from the puppetry genius of The Lion King? Or with Jeff Croiter’s lighting design that incredibly (for a stage as large as Drury Lane’s) dispenses with follow-spot operators, relying instead on pre-programmed lighting plots that frequently fail to illuminate their subject? 

Mostly the acting is strong - Luke Brady goes the distance in the title role, looking and sounding dutifully divine. Mae Ann Jorolan as Meg makes fine work of her solo numbers, while the five Gospel-infused Muses are a blast. Trevor Dion Nicholas reliably turns in a decent shtick as Phil, Hercules’s guide on his path to godliness.

The biggest casting disappointment however lies in Stephen Carlile’s Hades. James Woods’ 1997 voicing of Disney’s original Hades was an inspired delivery of the sharpest satire and to be fair, a devilishly tough act to follow. Carlile emasculates this most infernal of bad-guys, reducing him to a poorly performed pantomime villain. 

Alan Menken’s two strong compositions, Go The Distance and Zero to Hero support act one. The second half offers nothing that’s hummable, in a show that (almost) takes Disney’s Hercules from hero to zero.

Booking until 28th March 2026

Photo credit: Matt Crockett

Dreamgirls - Review

Savoy Theatre, London


****

Music by Henry Krieger
Lyrics and book by Tom Eyen
Directed and choreographed by Casey Nicholaw

Marisha Wallace

Dreamgirls is now well settled into the Savoy Theatre and comfortably booking up until the autumn. So for a reviewer with no real interest whatsoever in the TV series Glee or its much lauded star Amber Riley, what better way to assess the show than on the one night in the week when Ms Riley rests her remarkable larynx, with her Effie White played (as advertised) by Broadway diva Marisha Wallace.

The story of Dreamgirls should be well known by now. A fictitious yarn whose roots stretch back to the days of American segregation when soul and rhythm and blues, essentially “black music” (a description taken from the show’s programme notes) were striving to break into the pop charts. A Michigan trio The Dreamettes are backing vocals to R&B star Jimmy Early. Curtis Taylor Jr, an opportunistic manager recognises their potential and lures them away from Early to headline their own act billed as The Dreams. Along the way there’s love, rivalries and jealousies that play out to a backdrop of a ruthlessly cutthroat music business and some sensationally sung songs.

Strip away the music and Tom Eyen’s book is paper thin – it’s Henry Kreiger’s melodies that make the show. Wallace’s closing of the first half with a jaw dropping take on And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going proves a stunner of a powerhouse, that sends the (predominantly female) audience reeling as they totter to the bar for their half time Proseccos.

The show’s other big number is One Night Only - a song that many of today’s kids will have come to know through its X-Factor regularity, even though its chart history dates back to the 1980s – and the three Dreamgirls, along with the ensemble, give it a powerfully polished outing.

Credit where it’s due – Liisi LaFontaine and Ibinabo Jack are superb as Deena and Lorrell, Effie’s partners, Joe Aaron Reid’s Curtis is a pantomime baddy but he holds the stage magnificently. Adam J. Bernard’s Jimmy Early is a groin thrusting lithe limbed delight, while Tyrone Huntley as songwriter C.C. White is, yet again, simply magnificent in his West End presence. Huntley is already riding high in the nation's musical theatre pantheon – he can only soar further still.

Casey Nicholaw’s direction and choreography oozes imagination, Gregg Barnes costumes are as sexy as they are period-perfect, while in the pit Nick Finlow’s orchestra serve up Kreiger’s score with panache.

Bravo to Sonia Friedman and her co-producers for bringing this Broadway bonanza to London. It’s a great night out!

Booking to 21st October

Something Rotten! - Review

St James Theatre, New York


****


Music and lyrics by Karey Kirkpatrick and Wayne Kirkpatrick
Book by Karey Kirkpatrick and John O'Farrell
Directed and choreographed by Casey Nicholaw

Brad Oscar and  Rob McClure

Readers with sharp memories will recall that Mel Brooks' The Producers begins on Broadway outside the opening night of Max Bialystock's latest show Funny Boy, A Musical Version Of Hamlet. So….fast forward to today and Something Rotten! is born of a similar mock-Shakespeare stable. Set in that cliched world of olde Elizabethan England that many Americans believe still exists on the other side of the Atlantic it's all ruffs, Tudor beams and, for British readers of a certain age, a bit of an American take on Carry On Shakespeare.

We meet the Bottom Brothers (Rob McClure and Josh Grisetti), two playwrights continually frustrated with living in Shakespeare's shadow. Nick Bottom is desperate, just for once, to trump the Bard at writing, so cheatingly consults soothsayer Nostradamus (fabulous work from Brad Oscar) asking what Shakespeare's greatest hit will be.

Nostradamus informs Bottom that not only will Shakespeare's greatest hit be a show called "Omelette" (think about it….), but that also, in the future, audiences will enjoy a new theatrical genre to be known as “musical”. This lead in not only allows Oscar to steal the show’s first half with the irresistibly funny number A Musical that sends up most of the classic Broadway shows brilliantly, it also sets the the scene for the Bottom Brothers to set about creating Omelette – The Musical.

From there flows a string of corny gags as the show references classic Shakespeare quotes and misquotes and much like Mel Brooks' creation of a preening pouting Fuhrer in Springtime For Hitler, so too do Karey and Wayne Kirkpatrick send up Will Chase’s William Shakespeare even further by camping him up as a leather clad sex god, bestriding the stage reciting suggestive sonnets.

The show’s melodies are memorable for their style and the dance routines are superb. The script however, is no Spamalot. Whilst there's a modicum of wit in Shakespeare's self-proclamation that he "put the I Am into iambic pentameter" it's extinguished by the Ensemble telling Nick Bottom "Don't be a penis, the man is a genius". Oh, and the act one closer has that bottom-scraper of a title, Bottom's Gonna Be On Top. Classy, not.

Of course no one in modern theatre knows better than Nicholaw how to put on a show. The dance work is lavish and stunningly drilled and the theatre was packed with Americans who for the most part were sobbing with laughter. Packed with industry references and in-jokes, if you know your musical theatre, you’ll love the show. And confessing a guilty secret…this Brit really rather liked it too.

On Broadway until December, and then touring across the USA

Photo credit: Joan Marcus