ajhlovestheatre

THE JONATHAN LARSON PROJECT

Music and lyrics by Jonathan Larson

conceived by Jennifer Ashley Tepper

directed by John Simpkins 

Southwark Playhouse Elephant, London – until 22 August 2026

running time: 90 minutes no interval 

https://southwarkplayhouse.co.uk/productions/the-jonathan-larson-project/

There ought to be a rule in theatre to the effect that if you’re doing a rock musical then it needs to be thrillingly loud. The idea of a quiet Spring Awakening, a muted Hedwig, a gentle Superstar, or a hushed Rent is anathema. That last show, something of a global phenomenon and due back in the West End later this year, was the work of Jonathan Larson, the creative whose storied premature death in 1996, aged just 35, robbed the theatre of a major voice who, on the basis of Rent and its unfinished sister show Tick Tick Boom, should have been one of the architects of the future of the musical.

The Jonathan Larson Project, conceived by New York based writer and producer Jennifer Ashley Tepper and seen off-Broadway last year, collates seldom or never heard songs from the prodigiously gifted composer-lyricist into a ninety minute format; it’s not a musical as such but a song cycle, and the material, although displaying an impressively eclectic range of influences, has a potent rock sensibility that cries out for blasted, face-melting amplification. There should be light and shade of course, but this is music that should really smack you in the face. A significant disappointment in this London premiere, helmed by original NYC director John Simpkins, is that the whole thing sounds so anaemic. It’s clearly not that sound designer Alistair Fenman doesn’t know how to turn the volume up – the play-out music, performed ‘live’ by Livvi van Warmelo’s terrific band, has a satisfyingly bombastic depth and edge – but for most of the show, there’s an aural landscape that feels like the theatrical equivalent of paddling with your wellies on. 

The reduced sound levels at least mean that the intricacies of the orchestrations can be appreciated but, surprisingly, have little impact on the lyrics, of which only about 40% , at a generous estimate, can be deciphered. That’s perhaps not an insurmountable problem for park-and-bark solos but renders numbers like the comic ‘Hosing The Furniture’ about (I think) a clean-obsessed housewife manically breaking down, or another that satirically spoofs the electoral system, into bewildering, incomprehensible messes, despite the energy of the performances.  It’s a shame, mainly because Larson was an earthy, witty lyricist, capable of profound depth when required, but also because, shorn of context and meaning, these songs en masse can get a little relentless. Where a revue like Side By Side By Sondheim, showcasing numbers take out of context of their original musicals, works because each one is like a mini-play, frequently with a strong sense of character identity, this one falters as only a couple of the songs, which collectively scream early career potential, have that level of specificity and theatricality. 

For all the attempts by director Simpkins to inject theatrical life into the proceedings (there’s insistent, superfluous choreography by Taylor Walker, and an artfully grungy set by Nate Bertone that, with minimal tweaking, could easily host a production of Rent) there were a couple of moments where I did wonder if I might not equally have enjoyed listening to the album at home rather than watching the actual show. The origin of individual songs is briefly (too briefly) projected above the stage, but you have to be pretty quick to catch them. 

Although the lighting by Sam Biondolillo is nicely evocative of a shadowy, twilit New York, most of the visuals consist of having the cast of five clasping hands and gazing at each other meaningfully, or staring soulfully into the middle distance while belting soulfully. On the night I caught the show, some of the singing was more enthusiastic than accurately pitched, but the company (Marcus Collins, Max Harwood, Natalie Kassanga, Michael Mathers, Imelda Warren Green) hurl themselves at the material with commitment. Collins fields a particularly enjoyable rangy pop tenor and Warren Green has pleasing comedy chops on top of a formidable belt, while Kassanga’s warmth and presence is consistently engaging. The show begins and ends with recordings of Larson performing in his charmingly idiosyncratic style and it’s probably a wise move that no impersonation is attempted by any of the cast.

What shines through nonetheless is Larson’s melodic profligacy; at best, his tunes shimmer, stir and soar, lodging in the heart and memory, provoking exhilaration and tears. His musical literacy still takes the breath away, with nods to blues, jazz, calypso, opera etc. that are skilful and seldom self-conscious. There’s a wit and joy to his ability to borrow, openly, from other composers: here it’s Gershwin as the transformative power ballad ‘Rhapsody’ rapturously samples ‘Rhapsody In Blue’, where Rent had Puccini (‘Musetta’s Waltz’ from La Bohème was the inspiration behind struggling musician Roger’s opus) and Tick Tick Boom Sondheim (Sunday but in a diner rather than La Grande Jatte). It’s also fascinating, if you’re familiar with Larson’s two main shows, to note the echoing and foreshadowing in much of the material here, some of it intended as standalone, some of it created for other projects, and some of it previously unperformed.

Not every song is a winner, indeed some of them have more than a whiff of self-indulgence, but then they are examples of quintessentially early work of a man who tragically never realised his full potential but had more melodic invention, mastery of multiple genres and lyrical ingenuity than many other creatives could probably dream of. The Jonathan Larson Project isn’t a wholly satisfying theatrical venture but as a smorgasbord of extraordinary writing talent, and a footnote to musical theatre history, it has much to offer.