Review Roundup: CITY OF ANGELS at Donmar Warehouse

Two decades after its London premier, Donmar artistic director Josie Rourke revives one of the acknowledged greats of twentieth century musical theatre- City of Angels. Hollywood comes calling for a New York novelist. The offer is too good to refuse: adapt the private detective protagonist of his books into a big-screen hero. The siren song of Los Angeles is a dangerous temptation and while his movie plays out in black and white, his new life is all-too colourful.

With a book by acclaimed comic screenwriter Larry Gelbart (M*A*S*H, Tootsie), sensational jazz score by Cy Coleman and sizzling lyrics from David Zippel, CITY OF ANGELS, is a witty and glorious celebration of film noir.

Let's see what the critics had to say...

Dominic Cavendish, Telegraph: There are plenty of great musicals about the American theatre - whether it be 42nd Street, Kiss Me Kate or The Producers; but somewhat fewer about Hollywood. The joy of City of Angels - given a stupendous revival at the Donmar by Josie Rourke 21 years after its West End premiere - is that it's bitterly amusing about the treacherous LA movie industry but serves as far more than a one-note satire. In its homage to 1940s noir, it reminds you of the glories of crime-writing and cinema. In its jazz-laden score (Cy Coleman) and sophisticated lyrics and book (David Zippel, Larry Gelbart) it flaunts both the sensual possibilities of the musical and the intellectual high-wire acts that are theatre's forte.

Michael Billington, Guardian: Even if it's not a perfect show, the presentation is immaculate. Robert Jones's design is backed by a sky-scraping pile of manuscripts, suggesting the travails of the lone writer. The performances are also excellent. Hadley Fraser's harassed Stine is ideally matched by the Bogartesque assurance of Tam Mutu's Stone, Peter Polycarpou is explosively funny as an egomaniac producer and the show is unusual in offering dual roles for a number of women: Rosalie Craig as both writer's wife and gumshoe's girl, Katherine Kelly as shooting star and blazing siren, and Samantha Barks as aspiring starlet and fugitive jailbait all inhabit two worlds with consummate style and ease. The show may be caviar to the general, but Rourke's production is a gourmet's delight.

Henry Hitchings, Evening Standard: Cy Coleman's music is infused with upbeat jazziness, Larry Gelbart's book is dense and witty, and David Zippel's lyrics ripple with wisecracking intelligence. At times the score strays towards frantic pastiche and the storytelling is a bit too ingenious for its own good. But this is a smart, seductive and often very funny show.

Paul Taylor, Independent: The production is a miracle of coordination. Both halvesend with "You're Nothing Without Me" - the author's exhilarating duet with his fictional doppelganger. The first time, it's a stamping display of mutual antagonism (exuberantly choreographed by Stephen Mear). The second time? Well, if Raymond Chandler had ever collaborated with Luigi Pirandello, it would have looked a lot like this.

Michael Coveney, Whatsonstage: As long as you like jazz, film noir, witty lyrics, clever lighting and a two-layered plot so fiendishly complicated you might go cross-eyed trying to keep up, then City of Angels, a truly original musical (dating from 1989), is the show for you. I'm half way there, rejoicing in the cast of Josie Rourke's efficient revival which includes Rosalie Craig as a femme fatale with the most gorgeous cascade of red hair, Katherine Kelly as a gold-digger with a half-dead husband and a missing daughter, Samantha Barks as a couple of slinky dames and Peter Polycarpou as a Hollywood producer who's been through de Mille and had it with writers.

Quentin Letts, Daily Mail: David Zippel's lyrics are sprightly - 'If you're not celibate, we could raise hell a bit' sings one sultry lady - and Cy Coleman's jazzy score is cool but never memorable. Rebecca Trehearn, good as an ill-fated secretary, has the show's best number, 'You can always count on me'. So why was I not gripped? The doubling, the plot tricksiness, becomes everything. It is hard to form an emotional bond with these characters because they are two-dimensional, two times over. The whole thing sneers at Hollywood tastes, particularly the producer with his coarse belief in narrative despatch. I found myself suspecting that we could have done with his input to make this show just a bit less self-regarding.

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