ajhlovestheatre

STANDING AT THE SKYS EDGE

Book by Chris Bush

Music and Lyrics by Richard Hawley

Directed by Robert Hastie

Gillian Lynne Theatre, London – booking until 3 August 2024

https://www.skysedgemusical.com

Since garnering rave reviews at Sheffield’s Crucible Theatre, and subsequently here in London at the National last year where it was a total sell out, Standing At The Skys Edge has won the Olivier Award for Best Musical. Watching it again in its belated West End transfer at the Gillian Lynne, it’s impossible to escape the feeling that this won’t be the only such accolade it picks up. In Robert Hastie’s complex but clear staging, it remains something very special: a ballsy, blousy, lyrical blast of a show that raises the roof and breaks the heart. It has transferred impeccably, with some substantial but very successful recasting, although this time, moved and impressed as I was, its record album origins felt more obvious and the sense that the beautifully crafted songs by Richard Hawley comment upon and stand outside the action rather than propel it forward is more pronounced.

Although more sophisticated in execution, Standing At The Skys Edge has a similar open-hearted ebullience as perennial favourite Blood Brothers and deserves to achieve a similar longevity. Chris Bush and Richard Hawley’s epic creation also recalls the inspired Conor McPherson-Bob Dylan tearfest Girl From The North Country with it’s employment of pre-existing songs to complement and comment upon a searingly effective script.

Bush’s mastery of a trio of female-centric stories, set in the same flat on the infamous Sheffield Park Hill estate but decades apart, is enthralling. Rose and Harry (Rachael Wooding and Joel Harper-Jackson replacing Robert Lonsdale) are a young couple moving into the brand new dwelling in the 1960s, full of optimism and overjoyed at having escaped the slums. Then there’s the family of Liberian refugees who move in during the 1980s (Baker Mukasa returning to his original role, now joined by Sharlene Hector and Elizabeth Ayodele) when the estate has become rundown and plagued with crime; the modern tranche of the story sees affluent Londoner Poppy (Laura Pitt-Pulford) relocating to the now-redeveloped area and nursing a broken heart. In clean, intelligent strokes, with salty, realistic dialogue, refreshing humour and a brace of vivid characters, Bush’s terrific text embraces community, social change, migration and gentrification, with a bracing theatricality.

It’s ambitious but galvanising and accessible in Hastie’s capable hands. If it’s sometimes reminiscent of soap opera, that’s only because it’s so compulsive and relatable, and how much and how deeply we come to care about these characters. There’s a running theme between the stories, which I won’t spoil here (though there is a clue from the outset in Ben Stones’s starkly imposing set design) but it carries a massive emotional wallop when the realisation dawns, and feels like the hallmark of truly great storytelling. There is a scene near the end, which refracts an exchange of dialogue from early in act one through what we have since discovered, and which is one of the most breathtakingly brutal and ingenious examples of turning a moment on its head, that I can remember, and it’s heartbreakingly played by Ayodele, who is flintier but no less effective than her predecessor as the appropriately named Joy, and Samuel Jordan, already terrific during the previous run but even better now.

Hawley’s songs, some of which originated on a 2012 concept album, range from achingly lovely to real bangers. There’s a lot of light and shade, and a variety of popular music genres, but the predominant sounds tend to be shimmering, strings-heavy impressionism then thundering, portentous rock. It’s more attractive than memorable perhaps but it works tremendously well as theatre music. Watching it a second time, I do wonder if it could afford to lose a couple of solos and some of the extraneous dances, especially in the second half.

Anybody who still subscribes to the hackneyed cliché that “real” acting seldom happens in musicals needs to see this though, the acting right across the company is outstanding. Watching the sunshine drain out of Rachael Wooding’s adorable, tough-but-tender Rose, her contended family unit decimated by the destruction of the steel industry where her husband previously flourished, is deeply painful. Wooding’s beautiful portrayal is warm, open, and, crucially, unsentimental which makes it all the more moving. The way both she ages as the story progresses is a masterclass, aided in no small measure by intelligent costume and wig design. Opposite her, Harper-Jackson manages the descent from ardour to despair with extraordinary delicacy.

Laura Pitt-Pulford, in another gem of a performance, invests lovelorn, conflicted Poppy with an endearing daffiness that makes more sense for her story arc than her more grounded predecessor and she sings like a dream. Lauryn Redding is a wonderful addition to the cast as a messy, mouthy, deeply lovable lesbian with a strong political conscience and a propensity to enter every social situation like a bull in a china shop. She’s utterly captivating and hilarious, and when she describes herself as “a lot” you totally believe her. There isn’t a weak link in the supporting cast either, with an especially invaluable contribution from newcomer Mel Lowe as a narrator whose connection to the central storyline is only revealed later in the show. Mukasa continues to carve out an unexpectedly joyous showstopper from the number he leads.

Hastie’s staging is laser sharp, negotiating the gear changes from tender family moments to rioting and much in between, with real flair. His work is augmented by Lynne Page’s expressive, if over-used choreography, which invests “real” people with an unusual grace, while remaining grounded in a gritty naturalism. Ben Stones’s towering set looks suitably monumental on the new stage, and is stunningly lit by Mark Henderson.

Revisiting Sky’s Edge I found myself more taken with Chris Bush’s ingenious, emotionally charged storytelling than the score perhaps, but it still soars, and remains one of the finest things on any current London stage. Vital, haunting music theatre, magnificently staged and performed, it’s supposed to be a limited run but one can’t help feeling this will end up being a permanent West End fixture. It certainly deserves to be.