I’d tell you to rush straight to Sheffield to see Everybody’s Talking About Jamie, the new musical playing at the Crucible, but it closes tonight. Oops. I saw it last week, but I’ve been busy. Deal with it.
Anyway, it’s not as if you won’t get another chance, although nothing seems to be set in stone yet. It’s (deservedly) had very strong reviews, the final few performances apparently sold out, it has a wonderful score, and it’s going to have a life beyond this first production… not least because a good half-a-dozen songs in the (terrific) score are so maddeningly, infuriatingly catchy that they’ll be rattling around your head for days after you see the show, even if you don’t shell out for the concept album on sale in the lobby (and on iTunes).
Based very loosely on a BBC Three documentary called Jamie: Drag Queen at 16, on one level this is simply another show about a kid who wants to succeed in showbusiness – but specifically, in this instance, to be a drag queen. What makes the show so refreshing, apart from Dan Gillespie Sells and Tom MacRae‘s wonderful score, is that it offers a thoroughly joyous, celebratory take on its subject. At the start of the show, Jamie is out and proud, with a supportive mother and a network of friends. It’s probably fair to suggest that Tom MacRae’s tight, funny book at least somewhat glosses over the difficulties Jamie has to overcome in order to a) take his first tentative steps towards becoming a professional drag performer and b) attend his school prom in a prom dress rather than a dinner jacket, but to go too deeply into the ripples around Jamie’s rejection by his homophobic father would have resulted in a very different kind of show, and perhaps, right now, celebrating tolerance and diversity is a more interesting dramatic choice than emphasising difference and rejection.
Aside from his walking cliché of an absentee father, actually, the biggest difficulty Jamie has to overcome, at least in the second act, is that he’s a little too consumed by his own (undeniable) fabulousness. The show’s dramatic meat has less to do with Jamie’s absentee father or his clashes with the school bully; instead, it’s about how Jamie learns to negotiate the space between a combative drag-queen persona and his desire to cross-dress as himself. It’s no kind of spoiler at all to reveal that Jamie does, at the end of the show, arrive at the school prom wearing a dress – but the scene is beautifully, delicately written, and surprisingly touching.
And in the title role, John McCrea is, well, absolutely fabulous. This is a genuine star turn, and it deserves to be seen by a (much) larger audience. He captures Jamie’s curious combination of strength and naiveté perfectly, he has a terrific pop tenor singing voice and great comic timing, and he can rock a pair of heels as well as anyone. As Jamie’s mother Margaret, Josie Walker brings down the house with a ballad called ‘He’s My Boy’, a song which is orders of magnitude more interesting than you’d guess from the wince-inducingly trite title, and Mina Anwar is brassily hilarious as Margaret’s best friend. The actors playing Jamie’s classmates are all fine, with Lucie Shorthouse a particular standout as Jamie’s friend Pritti; ‘It Means Beautiful’, a song in which Pritti draws a parallel between Jamie’s questions about his identity and her own choice to wear a hijab, is arguably the most interesting thing in the score, and Ms .Shorthouse’s performance of it is truly lovely.
There’s slick direction, too, from Jonathan Butterell, who keeps the action moving swiftly around Anna Fleischle’s grey-walls-and-school-desks set. If this is, in the end, a show that delights rather than surprises, that’s not necessarily a bad thing, and while MacRae’s book may sometimes lack a little depth, he and Sells have given the show a superb set of songs. The opening number, ‘And You Don’t Even Know It’, is a real earworm, and so is the title song; it’s rare, these days, to come out of the theatre humming the tunes unless you already knew them going in, but you will here. If you didn’t get a chance to see the show, the concept album – mostly performed by Sells, with guest performances from McCrea and Walker (and, um, Sophie Ellis Bextor and Betty Boo) is worth seeking out. Despite a scattering of good reviews in the national press, shows like this can easily slip under the radar, and Sells and MacRae’s score is simply too good to be produced once and then disappear.