Review: BILLY ELLIOT at Shedley Theatre

Reviewed by Ewart Shaw, Saturday 29th March 2025.

Before I get into a detailed analysis of Billy Elliot, and tick off the adjectives on the critics’ cheat sheet, just book tickets to this latest Northern Light Theatre Company success. It has heart, it has soul, and it has soles, and many of them.

Billy Elliot, first a film and then a stage musical. Billy Elliot, a boy who accidentally stumbles into the world of ballet and, with the aid of a suburban teacher, leaves his home and his people to become a leading dancer. It’s a fairytale. What makes it more than that is that Billy is a miner’s lad, destined for the pit. This, however, is 1984. It is the eve of the miners’ strike, and Maggie Thatcher has sent in the troops. There are moments when the massed miners sing their defiance and you are reminded of Les Miserables.

I don’t like the phrase ‘triple threat’ to describe a performer who can act, sing and dance. I prefer something like ‘triply gifted’ and Aidan Salmon in the title role is all that with the extra dividend. He brings to life the young man confused by the future offered to him, he sings the Elton John and Lee Hall songs with a plaintive edge, and he dances. At one moment, he and choreographer Sarah Williams create a moment of heart-stopping impact. More of that later.

Sarah Hamilton is the small-town dance teacher who sees his potential and goads him on his way. Their scenes together are beautifully realised. His grandmother, played with engaging dottiness, is a gift to Wendy Rainer, who has always brought something special to every role she adopts. The men of the family are our link to the confrontations of the community. Liam Philips catches the frustrations of a young man seeing his future close down with the mines. Andrew Mair is outstanding as Jackie, the Da. Every word, every expression counts. He is prepared to break the barriers and become a scab, betraying his people to get the money to send his son into the future. Kate Hodges is Billy’s late mother, Jackie’s wife. She appears in the shadows, only Billy can see her, and she sings comfortingly to him. Her stillness is so moving.

Director, Michelle Davy, leans heavily on the professional production, in terms of blocking, setting, and costumes, but her ability to draw such convincing performances from all those on stage is a testament to her insight and hard work.

Billy James St John has a pit band as good as any you’ll hear. Reed and brass-heavy, it’s a fine sound from the invisible musicians, and when they sweep into extracts of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake, you’d swear it was a professional recording.

The choreography, by Sarah Williams, is as good as you can get, with non-professional dancers and children bringing energy, joy, and excellent timing. If you know The Pirates of Penzance, you’ll know the comic potential of policemen. There’s a side-splitting routine early with the miners and the coppers almost square dancing. Later, the police reappear with their plexiglass riot shields and Billy dances his assault courageously. I mentioned the heart-stopping moment. It sets up in the first act. Mr Braithwaite is a comic character as the grumpy drunken accompanist. I’ve known a few. He joins in a dance with Billy and Mrs. Wilkinson, stripping down to athletic gear, and showing off a great deal of strength and agility.

His name is Bailey Edwards, and, in the second act, he dances a duet with Billy as the older version. It climaxes when Aidan Salmon runs towards him and flies into the air landing on Bailey’s upraised arms. The audience drew in its breath before roaring its applause.

Among the supporting cast Milla Ilic as daughter, Debbie Wilkinson, who screamed and sulked so perfectly. Noah Margourilos came close to scene-stealing, especially in the routine when he persuades Billy to dress in women’s clothing. It was very funny indeed. The whole evening was riotous in the best way, with so many chances to cheer. Just when you thought you were applauding the curtain call, the company pulled a ‘swifty’, turning on a lively dance routine to send you out and on your way.

My trip to the Shedley turned into a family affair. We stopped by the old house on Philip Highway heading back to the city. My brother commented on the strength of community we had just witnessed. Not just, he said, the community of miners, but all the cast, the crew, and every member of Northern Light, the front of house, and volunteers.