ajhlovestheatre

JANE EYRE

Music and lyrics by Paul Gordon

Book and additional lyrics by John Caird

from the novel by Charlotte Brontë

directed by John Caird and Megan McGinnis

Southwark Playhouse Elephant, London – until 26 October 2026

running time: 2 hours 30 minutes including interval

https://southwarkplayhouse.co.uk/productions/jane-eyre/

This musical adaptation of Charlotte Brontë’s beloved novel had a world premiere in Toronto in the late ‘90s (the 1990s, to be clear) and then over two hundred performances on Broadway in 2000/1, and now – finally – arrives in London in a stripped back, stylish staging. Shorn of the bombast and scale of its earlier iterations, John Caird and Paul Gordon’s Jane Eyre emerges as a captivating if relentlessly dark (in every sense) chamber musical, full of terrific music and with some serious dramatic heft, even if it seldom fully realises its emotional promise.

It’s no coincidence that Caird was also one of the co-directors and key creatives on the original English language version of Les Misérables; the pleasurably lachrymose shadow of that epoch-making tuner and subsequent big shows influenced by it during the last couple of decades of the twentieth century, hangs heavy over this show. Jane Eyre as a musical, in 2026, feels decidedly old-fashioned, but not in a “set in the nineteenth century” sort of way, but more that it harks back to the shows of the 1980s and ‘90s when every life setback was marked with a power ballad, irony was not a thing, and everybody was wearing their heart on their period costumes’ sleeves.

This isn’t necessarily a criticism, by the way: composer Paul Gordon writes genuinely memorable tunes, some of the most persuasive and haunting ever created in this melancholic pop sub-genre actually. Listening to these Brontë characters emote full-throatedly in song is frequently a huge pleasure, especially when the voices and arrangements (by Ben Kubiak) are as good as they are here.

Perhaps due to budgetary constraints or maybe to mitigate against comparisons with other productions set in a similar time period, designer Morgan Large hasn’t gone all out with historically accurate costuming or wigs. Bar a few extra bits of dressing (a full length coat for Ashley Gilmour’s film-star handsome Mr Rochester, pinnies and caps for the domestic staff, a white veil for the unfortunate woman in the attic…) everyone is stylishly clad in timeless black, as though permanently cocktail party ready. It’s all a bit, well, sexy, which isn’t automatically a word one might associate with Jane Eyre.

Similarly, there’s no point in trying to recreate the North Yorkshire Moors upon which Jane wanders on Southwark Elephant’s stage, so Large, with lighting designer James Whiteside, opts for a striking hybrid of hazy but effective video design, minimal props and furniture, and lots of luscious, mysterious darkness. Caird and co-director Megan McGinnis keep the action moving fluidly, sometimes dynamically, relying on audience imagination to fill in the blanks.

This is a very good-looking show, and that extends to the cast as much as the production. Charlie Burn is so luminously beautiful as Jane that the references in the text to her being “plain” are rendered nonsensical. More importantly though, she effectively conveys the character’s innate goodness and resilience, and if her constant piety can get a little grating that is a feature of the original novel. Vocally, the role is an absolute beast but Burn is equal to it, investing solos such as her galvanising, questing ‘Sweet Liberty’ with a gorgeous combination of purity and power. 

Gilmour makes a dashing leading man, and also has a superb voice. If both he and Burn seem, from a dramatic point-of-views  a little uncomplicated and two-dimensional in these central roles, it may be that the adaptation doesn’t give them an awful lot to work with, beyond sparring gently then belting their faces off while gazing into the middle distance.

In an excellent supporting cast, Gemma Page makes a strong impression as two contrasting older influences on Jane, Eve Shanu-Wilson is glitteringly nasty as the money-fixated Blanche Ingram and Clare Greenaway delivers a lovely cameo as the domestic servant privy to the Rochester family’s most shameful secret. Hannah Lindsey and Jonathan Andrew Hume impress in a variety of differing roles and Isabelle Methven makes something fine and affecting out of Helen Burns, the saintly orphanage girl who shows kindness to youthful Jane (Poppy Jason at the performance I saw, and quite wonderful) and instils religious fervour into her. The singing thoughout is, without exception, outstanding, and the vocal arrangements make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up with their sheer beauty. 

Caird’s book does a decent job of recreating Brontë’s frequently grim tale in the first act, but the second act seems over-stuffed with plot. The dalliance with would-be missionary St John Rivers (an ardent Melad Hamidi) is dealt with perfunctorily, as is the matter of Jane’s unexpected financial inheritance. It sometimes feel that each plot point is plonked down in front of us just because it’s in the book, and one can’t help but wonder if excising some bits extraneous to the central love story mightn’t have been beneficial.

Emotionally, the show never really connects as much as it should. There’s a world of unreason and pain lurking in this distressing story encompassing maltreatment of children, untimely death, severe mental illness and trauma, but the musical, for the most part, skates serenely over the surface of it all. It’s a ravishing little jewel of a show for sure, with a huge amount to enjoy, but it’s Jane Eyre-lite. That will be more than enough for many people though, and, short of letting a full symphony orchestra loose on it, the score is unlikely to ever sound better than it does in this version.