*/
Reviews by Daniel Barnett
It’s not opera. It’s not musical theatre. It’s something in between. Andrew Lloyd Webber’s The Phantom of the Opera, based on Gaston Leroux’s 1910 novel, is a haunting tale that intertwines romance, obsession and tragedy within the opulent walls of the Opéra Garnier.
Collaborating with lyricists Charles Hart and Richard Stilgoe, Lloyd Webber crafted a score that is sometimes operatic and sometimes distinctly musical theatre. The production debuted at His Majesty’s Theatre in London in 1986 (remember Sarah Brightman and Michael Crawford hitting the Top 10 with ‘Music of the Night’?) and has since become one of the longest-running shows in West End history.
Set against the backdrop of 1881 Paris, the musical follows Christine Daaé, a talented young soprano who becomes the object of obsession for the Phantom, a mysterious and disfigured musical genius lurking in the shadows beneath the opera house. As Christine rises to fame under the Phantom’s tutelage, she rekindles her childhood romance with Raoul, a slightly pompous nobleman. The Phantom’s jealousy of their relationship leads him to terrorise the opera company to secure Christine’s love.
The narrative unfolds through a series of stunning musical numbers that reflect Christine’s internal struggle between her affection for Raoul and her complicated (and slightly weird) feelings towards the Phantom. The tension escalates as the Phantom’s possessiveness drives him to desperate measures – culminating in a dramatic climax that tests Christine’s loyalty and compassion.
You’ll know a lot of the music. I promise. It’s impossible to be unaware of the title song. Other tracks you’ll recognise (oh yes, you will) are the iconic ‘The Music of the Night’ (above), ‘Think of Me’ and ‘All I Ask of You’. Go on. Play them on Spotify. You know you want to. (I’m now imagining Temple with the crashing percussive and organ-based introduction to ‘The Phantom of the Opera’ blaring out through windows.)
The current production stars Lily Kerhoas, who shines as Christine, bringing a fresh interpretation to the role with her ethereal voice and nuanced emotional depth. Her performance in ‘Think of Me’ is an absolute audition for stardom. Kerhoas captures innocence while hinting at burgeoning strength – an essential balance that enriches the character’s journey.
Dean Chisnall as the Phantom balances menace and vulnerability; his ability to convey power and fragility makes you empathise with the Phantom’s tragic plight. His rendition of ‘Music of the Night’ is haunting; you can feel his longing as he attempts to seduce Christine into his world.
Under Harold Prince’s direction, every moment is crafted to enhance storytelling. The pacing is deliberate and dynamic; scenes shift from intimate moments to grand spectacles without losing emotional weight. The choreography by Gillian Lynne complements this vision beautifully – particularly during ensemble numbers like ‘Masquerade,’ where vibrant costumes swirl around you, immersing you in the opulence of the opera world.
The technical aspects of the production are integral to the storytelling. The use of space is striking; scenes in the Phantom’s lair are cloaked in darkness, contrasting sharply with the bright lights of the opera stage. This interplay between light and shadow not only reflects the Phantom’s duality but also serves as a metaphor for love’s complexities – illuminating joy while obscuring pain.
Matt Kinley’s set design transports you into another era; from the grand chandelier that looms ominously above to the intricate details of the Phantom’s subterranean lair, every element is thoughtfully designed to evoke both beauty and dread. And if you don’t know about the chandelier – well, no spoilers here.
The Phantom of the Opera is an experience – one that captivates both casual theatre-goers and seasoned aficionados alike (this was my tenth time). Its ability to weave together music, story, performance, and technical artistry makes it an enduring staple in London’s theatrical landscape. It’s a cornerstone of musical theatre, blending gothic horror with lush melodies and dramatic storytelling. If you’re not a musical theatre fan, this is a good place to start.
The Phantom of the Opera is at His Majesty’s Theatre, London
Let’s be honest: The Great Gatsby should be a slam-dunk for musical theatre. There’s drama, decadence, doomed romance, and a glittering 1920s backdrop practically begging for jazz hands and champagne towers. So you might be surprised, as I was, to leave the London Coliseum’s new musical adaptation feeling… indifferent. Like a guest at one of Gatsby’s legendary parties who slipped out early because the vibe was off.
Directed by Marc Bruni (Beautiful), with a score by Jason Howland and Nathan Tysen and a book by Kait Kerrigan, The Great Gatsby arrives dripping in gold and ambition. But for all its theatrical flair – and there is plenty – the show struggles to find a heartbeat beneath its sequinned skin.
You know the story: man of mystery Jay Gatsby throws extravagant parties hoping to win back Daisy Buchanan, the woman he loved before war, wealth, and bad timing intervened. Narrated by Daisy’s cousin, Nick Carraway, the tale is a slow-motion train crash of yearning, illusion and emotional cowardice.
Jamie Muscato, recently brilliant in Heathers and Moulin Rouge!, is as smooth as Gatsby’s suits and has a leading-man voice that could make a telephone directory sound dramatic. But for all the polish, his Gatsby lacks inner life. He smiles, he broods, he monologues about the green light, but it’s performative, not lived-in. You see the dream, but not the desperation behind it. His Gatsby feels, at times, like a Ken doll with a Harvard degree: shiny, poised, but a little too perfect to bleed.
Frances Mayli McCann fares better as Daisy, blending elegance with a flicker of sadness (you’d expect nothing less from a woman who once stole scenes in Bonnie & Clyde). But the chemistry between her and Muscato never fully ignites. For a central romance built on obsession, you never quite believe either of them would torch their lives for the other.
Corbin Bleu, best known for High School Musical but now all grown up, plays Nick with an easy, affable energy. He’s less the brooding chronicler of Fitzgerald’s novel and more your slightly tipsy mate telling an unbelievable story over cocktails. Elsewhere, West End legend Rachel Tucker injects some grit as Myrtle, and superstars John Owen Jones and Jon Robyns (both hugely successfully Phantoms and Valjeans) play characters who remain footnotes. One song each, when each actor could command Wembley stadium, is a gross underuse of their talents.
Musically, Howland and Tysen’s score is… fine. There are occasional flickers of brilliance, particularly the melancholy torch songs like ‘Beautiful Little Fool’, but much of it floats past without impact. The uptempo numbers try to summon a riotous Gatsby party but feel more like musical theatre’s idea of a wild night rather than something truly visceral.
Dominique Kelley’s choreography injects energy, especially in the party sequences, where Charleston flourishes clash cheekily with more contemporary moves. But the dancing often feels like a distraction from the lack of dramatic tension, as if trying to shimmy past the emotional void at the show’s centre.
Yet technically, the show dazzles. Paul Tate dePoo III’s set design is sleek and versatile, turning the stage into a kaleidoscope of art deco opulence. Peter Nigrini’s projections steal the spotlight more than once: the shimmering green light, the floating text from Fitzgerald’s novel, the kaleidoscopic cityscapes. They’re clever, atmospheric, and beautifully rendered. Digital waves crash against the stage during Gatsby’s dreamy monologues; the blinking green light at the end of Daisy’s dock shimmers in ghostly 3D. At one point, Gatsby’s house folds out like a pop-up book on steroids, all glinting staircases and endless horizons. You half expect a hologram of Leonardo DiCaprio to sidle in and raise a glass.
And it’s not just pretty wallpaper: the projections cleverly echo the novel’s themes of illusion and unattainable dreams. When Gatsby reaches for the green light, it literally flickers out of reach, a neat visual metaphor that lands better than some of the script’s more laboured lines. In a time of rampant inequality, toxic nostalgia, and Instagrammable excess, you’d think Gatsby would have have little difficulty with biting social commentary. But this production seems afraid to get its gloves dirty. The show gestures at wealth’s corrupting influence and futility of longing, but never commits. Instead, we get a lot of sighing and stargazing, as if that’s enough. Compare this to Cabaret’s recent revival, where glamour and danger entwined to devastating effect, and this Gatsby feels like it’s playing dress-up with nothing at stake.
You’ll likely leave the theatre impressed by the spectacle. And then, 30 minutes later, realise you’ve emotionally retained almost nothing. For a story about the illusion of the American Dream, maybe that’s fitting. But it doesn’t make it satisfying.
The Great Gatsby is at the London Coliseum until 7 September
Daniel Barnett practises from Outer Temple Chambers and presents the legal hour on LBC radio.
It’s not opera. It’s not musical theatre. It’s something in between. Andrew Lloyd Webber’s The Phantom of the Opera, based on Gaston Leroux’s 1910 novel, is a haunting tale that intertwines romance, obsession and tragedy within the opulent walls of the Opéra Garnier.
Collaborating with lyricists Charles Hart and Richard Stilgoe, Lloyd Webber crafted a score that is sometimes operatic and sometimes distinctly musical theatre. The production debuted at His Majesty’s Theatre in London in 1986 (remember Sarah Brightman and Michael Crawford hitting the Top 10 with ‘Music of the Night’?) and has since become one of the longest-running shows in West End history.
Set against the backdrop of 1881 Paris, the musical follows Christine Daaé, a talented young soprano who becomes the object of obsession for the Phantom, a mysterious and disfigured musical genius lurking in the shadows beneath the opera house. As Christine rises to fame under the Phantom’s tutelage, she rekindles her childhood romance with Raoul, a slightly pompous nobleman. The Phantom’s jealousy of their relationship leads him to terrorise the opera company to secure Christine’s love.
The narrative unfolds through a series of stunning musical numbers that reflect Christine’s internal struggle between her affection for Raoul and her complicated (and slightly weird) feelings towards the Phantom. The tension escalates as the Phantom’s possessiveness drives him to desperate measures – culminating in a dramatic climax that tests Christine’s loyalty and compassion.
You’ll know a lot of the music. I promise. It’s impossible to be unaware of the title song. Other tracks you’ll recognise (oh yes, you will) are the iconic ‘The Music of the Night’ (above), ‘Think of Me’ and ‘All I Ask of You’. Go on. Play them on Spotify. You know you want to. (I’m now imagining Temple with the crashing percussive and organ-based introduction to ‘The Phantom of the Opera’ blaring out through windows.)
The current production stars Lily Kerhoas, who shines as Christine, bringing a fresh interpretation to the role with her ethereal voice and nuanced emotional depth. Her performance in ‘Think of Me’ is an absolute audition for stardom. Kerhoas captures innocence while hinting at burgeoning strength – an essential balance that enriches the character’s journey.
Dean Chisnall as the Phantom balances menace and vulnerability; his ability to convey power and fragility makes you empathise with the Phantom’s tragic plight. His rendition of ‘Music of the Night’ is haunting; you can feel his longing as he attempts to seduce Christine into his world.
Under Harold Prince’s direction, every moment is crafted to enhance storytelling. The pacing is deliberate and dynamic; scenes shift from intimate moments to grand spectacles without losing emotional weight. The choreography by Gillian Lynne complements this vision beautifully – particularly during ensemble numbers like ‘Masquerade,’ where vibrant costumes swirl around you, immersing you in the opulence of the opera world.
The technical aspects of the production are integral to the storytelling. The use of space is striking; scenes in the Phantom’s lair are cloaked in darkness, contrasting sharply with the bright lights of the opera stage. This interplay between light and shadow not only reflects the Phantom’s duality but also serves as a metaphor for love’s complexities – illuminating joy while obscuring pain.
Matt Kinley’s set design transports you into another era; from the grand chandelier that looms ominously above to the intricate details of the Phantom’s subterranean lair, every element is thoughtfully designed to evoke both beauty and dread. And if you don’t know about the chandelier – well, no spoilers here.
The Phantom of the Opera is an experience – one that captivates both casual theatre-goers and seasoned aficionados alike (this was my tenth time). Its ability to weave together music, story, performance, and technical artistry makes it an enduring staple in London’s theatrical landscape. It’s a cornerstone of musical theatre, blending gothic horror with lush melodies and dramatic storytelling. If you’re not a musical theatre fan, this is a good place to start.
The Phantom of the Opera is at His Majesty’s Theatre, London
Let’s be honest: The Great Gatsby should be a slam-dunk for musical theatre. There’s drama, decadence, doomed romance, and a glittering 1920s backdrop practically begging for jazz hands and champagne towers. So you might be surprised, as I was, to leave the London Coliseum’s new musical adaptation feeling… indifferent. Like a guest at one of Gatsby’s legendary parties who slipped out early because the vibe was off.
Directed by Marc Bruni (Beautiful), with a score by Jason Howland and Nathan Tysen and a book by Kait Kerrigan, The Great Gatsby arrives dripping in gold and ambition. But for all its theatrical flair – and there is plenty – the show struggles to find a heartbeat beneath its sequinned skin.
You know the story: man of mystery Jay Gatsby throws extravagant parties hoping to win back Daisy Buchanan, the woman he loved before war, wealth, and bad timing intervened. Narrated by Daisy’s cousin, Nick Carraway, the tale is a slow-motion train crash of yearning, illusion and emotional cowardice.
Jamie Muscato, recently brilliant in Heathers and Moulin Rouge!, is as smooth as Gatsby’s suits and has a leading-man voice that could make a telephone directory sound dramatic. But for all the polish, his Gatsby lacks inner life. He smiles, he broods, he monologues about the green light, but it’s performative, not lived-in. You see the dream, but not the desperation behind it. His Gatsby feels, at times, like a Ken doll with a Harvard degree: shiny, poised, but a little too perfect to bleed.
Frances Mayli McCann fares better as Daisy, blending elegance with a flicker of sadness (you’d expect nothing less from a woman who once stole scenes in Bonnie & Clyde). But the chemistry between her and Muscato never fully ignites. For a central romance built on obsession, you never quite believe either of them would torch their lives for the other.
Corbin Bleu, best known for High School Musical but now all grown up, plays Nick with an easy, affable energy. He’s less the brooding chronicler of Fitzgerald’s novel and more your slightly tipsy mate telling an unbelievable story over cocktails. Elsewhere, West End legend Rachel Tucker injects some grit as Myrtle, and superstars John Owen Jones and Jon Robyns (both hugely successfully Phantoms and Valjeans) play characters who remain footnotes. One song each, when each actor could command Wembley stadium, is a gross underuse of their talents.
Musically, Howland and Tysen’s score is… fine. There are occasional flickers of brilliance, particularly the melancholy torch songs like ‘Beautiful Little Fool’, but much of it floats past without impact. The uptempo numbers try to summon a riotous Gatsby party but feel more like musical theatre’s idea of a wild night rather than something truly visceral.
Dominique Kelley’s choreography injects energy, especially in the party sequences, where Charleston flourishes clash cheekily with more contemporary moves. But the dancing often feels like a distraction from the lack of dramatic tension, as if trying to shimmy past the emotional void at the show’s centre.
Yet technically, the show dazzles. Paul Tate dePoo III’s set design is sleek and versatile, turning the stage into a kaleidoscope of art deco opulence. Peter Nigrini’s projections steal the spotlight more than once: the shimmering green light, the floating text from Fitzgerald’s novel, the kaleidoscopic cityscapes. They’re clever, atmospheric, and beautifully rendered. Digital waves crash against the stage during Gatsby’s dreamy monologues; the blinking green light at the end of Daisy’s dock shimmers in ghostly 3D. At one point, Gatsby’s house folds out like a pop-up book on steroids, all glinting staircases and endless horizons. You half expect a hologram of Leonardo DiCaprio to sidle in and raise a glass.
And it’s not just pretty wallpaper: the projections cleverly echo the novel’s themes of illusion and unattainable dreams. When Gatsby reaches for the green light, it literally flickers out of reach, a neat visual metaphor that lands better than some of the script’s more laboured lines. In a time of rampant inequality, toxic nostalgia, and Instagrammable excess, you’d think Gatsby would have have little difficulty with biting social commentary. But this production seems afraid to get its gloves dirty. The show gestures at wealth’s corrupting influence and futility of longing, but never commits. Instead, we get a lot of sighing and stargazing, as if that’s enough. Compare this to Cabaret’s recent revival, where glamour and danger entwined to devastating effect, and this Gatsby feels like it’s playing dress-up with nothing at stake.
You’ll likely leave the theatre impressed by the spectacle. And then, 30 minutes later, realise you’ve emotionally retained almost nothing. For a story about the illusion of the American Dream, maybe that’s fitting. But it doesn’t make it satisfying.
The Great Gatsby is at the London Coliseum until 7 September
Reviews by Daniel Barnett
Chair of the Bar sets out a busy calendar for the rest of the year
Why Virtual Assistants Can Meet the Legal Profession’s Exacting Standards
By Louise Crush of Westgate Wealth Management
Examined by Marie Law, Director of Toxicology at AlphaBiolabs
Time is precious for barristers. Every moment spent chasing paperwork, organising diaries, or managing admin is time taken away from what matters most: preparation, advocacy and your clients. That’s where Eden Assistants step in
AlphaBiolabs has announced its latest Giving Back donation to RAY Ceredigion, a grassroots West Wales charity that provides play, learning and community opportunities for families across Ceredigion County
Despite increased awareness, why are AI hallucinations continuing to infiltrate court cases at an alarming rate? Matthew Lee investigates
The proscribing of Palestine Action under the Terrorism Act is an assault on the English language and on civil liberties, argues Paul Harris SC, founder of the Bar Human Rights Committee
Come in with your eyes open, but don’t let fear cloud the prospect. A view from practice by John Dove
Anon Academic explains why he’s leaving the world of English literature for the Bar – after all, the two are not as far apart as they may first seem...
Review by Stephen Cragg KC
