ajhlovestheatre

BANK OF DAVE 

Book and lyrics by Rob Madge

Music and lyrics by Pippa Cleary

directed by Nikolai Foster 

Curve, Leicester – until 30 March 2026

running time: 2 hours 30 minutes including interval

https://www.curveonline.co.uk/whats-on/shows/bank-of-dave/

Some stories are so strange they could only be true, and this tale of a Lancashire minibus salesman who opened an independent loans and savings company because major banks weren’t lending to many working class people in the wake of the 2008 global financial crisis, is one such. Bank Of Dave (his slogan was “Bank On Dave”) has already been the basis for an award-winning TV documentary and a movie, and now it’s a jolly, raucous, big-hearted musical.

Surprisingly though, Dave Fishwick himself (played with a winning combination of brashness and warmth by Sam Lupton) isn’t really the starring role in Pippa Cleary and Rob Madge’s tuner. That honour goes to Hugh, the London lawyer who foregoes the delights of Primrose Hill and the City for the earthier charms of rundown Northern mill town Burnley. Lucca Chadwick-Patel, all ringing tenor, floppy hair and likeable swagger, proves himself an ideal leading man and makes convincing Hugh’s journey from snobbish Southerner to champion of the people.

Madge’s on-the-nose book has a tendency to go for the most obvious humour, and gets a tedious amount of mileage out of the tropes of people from up North being kindly salt-of-the-earth types while Southerners, but especially the bankers naturally, are icy, duplicitous and venal. It’s a bit like shooting fish in a barrel, and the writing, stronger on (literal) knob jokes than finesse, is more efficient than surprising. The script takes liberties with the true story that inspires it, as is pointed out in the shows final moments, one of several where characters refer to the fact that they’re actually in a musical. 

There’s a sense, both in the writing and in Nikolai Foster’s staging, of everything being hurled at the wall to see what sticks, so we get a chorus of bankers dressed as pigs, a SatNav played as a sassy woman, a visual joke involving Coronation Street’s Gail Platt, dancing pensioners, a drag queen modelled on Cher…. It’s kind of messy but it has real charm.

Cleary’s score, pastiching umpteen genres of popular music and reminiscent of her work on the Great British Bake-Off musical a few years back, is similarly scattershot but likeable. Chadwick-Patel gets a roof-raising 11 o’clock power ballad, there’s gospel, a bit of rock, a smidge of Music Hall, some full-throated anthems, and a hip-hop infused number for the blingy London bankers that could have been cut from Operation Mincemeat. If the score doesn’t have a clear identity of its own, it’s at least stirring and moderately tuneful.

Hayley Tamaddon is lovely as Dave’s endlessly supportive and upbeat wife but the show literally doesn’t require her to do anything other than, well, just be supportive and upbeat. Lauryn Redding has more to sink her teeth into as an opinionated local doctor, and brings a cracking voice and formidable comic timing to her role. Claire Moore delivers fine, funny and ultimately very moving work as pub landlady Maureen, as big of heart as she is of mouth, and nails, exquisitely, ‘Nowt To Lose’, a rather wonderful ballad of lost love and grief, one of the few moments where the score doesn’t feel like it’s pushing hard. Joni Ayton-Kent is great fun as Holly’s laconic sidekick, and Samuel Holmes an absolute knockout as a nasty banker pitched half way between panto and Bond villain.

Visually, Foster’s colourful, frequently inventive production strikes a nice balance between working class naturalism and showbiz pizazz. Amy Jane Cook’s set suggests local pub and community centre, but transforms pleasingly into exteriors and more upmarket locations with the help of Ben Cracknell’s malleable lighting and the use of, but not over-reliance on, overhead projections (superb work by Duncan McLean). If Ebony Molina’s choreography is a little over-used, it has some moments of genuine flair.

Bank Of Dave isn’t a great musical but it’s fun; it’s too potty-mouthed to be wholesome exactly, it’s about as subtle as a brick, and some of the singing is more enthusiastic than accurate, but the audience roars its approval. In an increasingly difficult world, there’s a lot to be said for stories about underdogs triumphing, and of good people trying to do the right thing (all profits from Fishwick’s company are ploughed into charity). Like the man himself, its heart is definitely in the right place.