Your Lie in April West End Reviews

There isn’t much set piece dancing in the show, but director, Nick Winston, makes excellent use of a couple of surprising moments. Kaori’s playing is delivered by a shadow violinist (Akiko Ishikawa) while the girl disappears, underlining how musi...

There isn’t much set piece dancing in the show, but director, Nick Winston, makes excellent use of a couple of surprising moments. Kaori’s playing is delivered by a shadow violinist (Akiko Ishikawa) while the girl disappears, underlining how music can transform human beings. None more so than when Kosei goes all in with his classical piano playing, dissing Vladimir Horowitz as a teen would and absolutely nailing Rachmaninoff, Zheng Xi Yong earning one of what will be many showstopping ovations, electrifying the house and providing an unforgettable moment.

Zheng Xi Yong’s classical piano playing in the lead role of Kо̄sei provides subtlety and real feeling in a welter of phony sentiment. Both he and Mia Kobayashi, making a bold debut as his inamorata Kaori though still at drama school, sing strongl...

Zheng Xi Yong’s classical piano playing in the lead role of Kо̄sei provides subtlety and real feeling in a welter of phony sentiment. Both he and Mia Kobayashi, making a bold debut as his inamorata Kaori though still at drama school, sing strongly. But the acting in Nick Winston’s production – the first West End musical with a cast entirely of South East Asian heritage – is relentlessly cartoonish.

Directed and choreographed by Nick Winston, characters are Japanese but Americanised and schematic. Kōsei and Kaori are played with immense verve but there is little room for them to breathe and they are smothered by flat characterisation. Alongside...

Directed and choreographed by Nick Winston, characters are Japanese but Americanised and schematic. Kōsei and Kaori are played with immense verve but there is little room for them to breathe and they are smothered by flat characterisation. Alongside them is a self-parodying high-school hunk (Dean John-Wilson) and Kōsei’s quietly tormented best friend (Rachel Clare Chan), both hastily sketched and overfamiliar.

The revelation here, playing Kaori, is Mia Kobayashi in a true star-is-born professional debut. She turns what could be an irritating Manic Pixie Dream Girl character into a charismatic delight, and she has a dazzling combination of exquisite vocal t...

The revelation here, playing Kaori, is Mia Kobayashi in a true star-is-born professional debut. She turns what could be an irritating Manic Pixie Dream Girl character into a charismatic delight, and she has a dazzling combination of exquisite vocal tone and a huge power belt – a Mariah Carey in the making.

You also know you’re in trouble with a musical when the songs are straining so hard to be inspirational that a plot-device bike ride gets as rousing an anthem as a character’s death. The second half is better because it creates space for Zheng Xi...

You also know you’re in trouble with a musical when the songs are straining so hard to be inspirational that a plot-device bike ride gets as rousing an anthem as a character’s death. The second half is better because it creates space for Zheng Xi’s gorgeous piano playing. There’s an emotion, nuance and depth, sorely lacking elsewhere, before we’re thrust into another pastel-coloured, frenetically choreographed power ballad.

Who cares if the psychologising is pound shop and the songs sound like rejected items from an Eighties AOR anthems playlist? When it all keeps moving forward so relentlessly, when its hero’s pain is eventually made palpable by a leading man doing a...

Who cares if the psychologising is pound shop and the songs sound like rejected items from an Eighties AOR anthems playlist? When it all keeps moving forward so relentlessly, when its hero’s pain is eventually made palpable by a leading man doing a live classical recital on the revolving piano that sits centre stage, there are more important things than critical faculties. Let’s have tragic fun instead.