ajhlovestheatre

HIGH SOCIETY

Music and lyrics by Cole Porter

Book by Arthur Kopit

Additional lyrics by Susan Birkenhead

based on the play The Philadelphia Story by Philip Barry

directed by Rachel Kavanaugh

Barbican Theatre, London – until 11 July 2026 then touring 

running time: 2 hours 30 minutes including interval

https://www.barbican.org.uk/whats-on/2026/event/cole-porter-high-society

It’s tempting to contrast this summer’s Barbican musical High Society with the stunning Broadway revival of Anything Goes in 2022, or 2024’s sumptuous, starry Kiss Me, Kate, since they’re all stuffed with beloved Cole Porter numbers and played the same venue….but the comparison isn’t entirely fair. Kiss Me, Kate is a prime example of Golden Age perfection while, even in its rewritten form (the book was heavily revised for the 1980s Lincoln Center production), Anything Goes is a frothily well-crafted theatrical property. Meanwhile High Society was conceived as a film and this stage version, first seen as a Broadway flop in 1998, is a mish-mash of the cherished ‘50s movie and the Philip Barry play The Philadelphia Story upon which it’s based. It’s really a jukebox musical: the soundtrack had nine songs while playwright Arthur Kopit’s adaptation shoehorns in an additional ten Porter favourites, a couple of which, when you listen to the lyrics, don’t feel fully integrated. 

Rachel Kavanaugh’s staging, heading off around the country and to Ireland after this two month run in town, is certainly very attractive to look at. Tom Rogers’ sumptuous scenic design of an ocean-side mansion -a single unit suggesting interiors and exteriors- appears ready to tour, but it’s very much the set for a No.1 tour, augmented by some gorgeous extra pieces, such as magically lit, statuary-filled garden or lavish conservatory. The pastel elegance of Jon Morrell’s costumes and colourful washes of lighting by Howard Hudson are perfect complements; the whole thing is a visual feast, and an aural one too, a seventeen piece band making Porter’s classic tunes snap and sparkle in Larry Blank and Mark Cumberland’s orchestrations. 

Director Kavanaugh doesn’t do much with the material beyond place it prettily onstage, so this precious tale of ultra-rich folk dealing with romantic entanglements, betrayals and misunderstandings in the rarified surroundings of pre-WW2 Long Island plays out with panache, some wit….and almost zero edge. For a night of bland escapism, it works well enough but the emotional temperature never rises above the tepid, the absence of chemistry between Helen George’s spoilt but spirited heiress and Julian Ovenden as Dexter, her torch-carrying ex-husband being a major factor in this. There’s little urgency or sense of real feelings beneath the barbs and quips.

Ovenden is the quintessential old school leading man though, with insouciant charm and humour, good looks, magnetic warmth and a singing voice like melted butter. If he’s pretty much perfect, top-billed George is more serviceable than exciting. She hints at her character’s inability to cope with human frailty and how that repeatedly scuppers her relationships, but doesn’t register much in the way of longing or the fire that makes Tracy Samantha Lord so fascinating to those around her. Her singing and dancing are adequate, and she looks fabulous in the period frocks, but she’s an insipid figure to build a musical around.

Freddie Fox makes a rather wonderful musical theatre debut as Mike Connor, the cynical Left-leaning journalist arrived in Oyster Bay to lampoon the Lords but unexpectedly seduced by the lifestyle. Fox’s singing voice is decent enough but he has a playfulness and lightness of touch that’s just sublime, whether staggering about drunkenly having consumed his body weight in champagne or bug-eyed at the opulence of his surroundings, and he’s a lovely mover. He also achieves that unique combination of camp flamboyance and heterosexual swagger that makes this sort of material fly.

An oddly muted Carly Mercedes Dyer is likeable as his wise-cracking photographer sidekick but doesn’t have as much impact as one might have hoped, and her big second act solo ‘I’ve Got You Under My Skin’ doesn’t sit comfortably in her (usually tremendous) voice. Nigel Lindsay is great fun as boozy, priapic Uncle Willie and David Seadon-Young excels, making comedy and a fully rounded character out of Tracy’s stuffed-shirt, fish-out-of-water new husband-to-be.

There’s fresh, funny work from Naomi Pacquette as the mischievous but whip-smart younger sibling, and from Malcolm Sinclair as the philandering patriarch looking to inveigle his way back into the family fold, though I could have lived without his attempts at singing. Felicity Kendal is an eccentric delight as Margaret ‘Mother’ Lord, gurgingly at odds with the well-drilled shenanigans elsewhere, but with a sense of fun and sly wit that proves irresistible nonetheless.

Anthony Van Laast’s dances are decorative and enjoyable, if seldom particularly exhilarating. Kavanaugh’s staging has a tight pace, though not without its ponderous moments, such as having Tracy twirling briefly and ineffectually behind an upper level French door while Dexter wistfully sings about her from below. Some of the clowning is pretty leaden, notably in a misconceived ‘I Love Paris’ sequence (the song borrowed from Can Can) and in the actual ‘Be A Clown’ number itself. Then there’s a bizarre moment where drunk Tracy and Mike, aiming to go skinny dipping, charge off upstage, completely ignoring the fact that the swimming pool is downstage front (it’s literally right there) ….or are we supposed to surmise that the Lords are so wealthy that they have multiple pools?!

The songs, the frequently ravishing spectacle and the leading men are the main reasons to see this High Society. It’s pleasant and amusing but anybody after a bit of drama and excitement will need to look elsewhere. It’s not vintage musical theatre but it does exactly what it says on the tin.