Stereophonic West End Reviews

Dazzling hyperrealism soars because each character is an iceberg hiding their true depth. Lucy Karczewski tugs at the heartstrings as immensely talented Diana, riddled with doubt under Peter’s coercive control. Peter’s own scars are gently reveal...

Dazzling hyperrealism soars because each character is an iceberg hiding their true depth. Lucy Karczewski tugs at the heartstrings as immensely talented Diana, riddled with doubt under Peter’s coercive control. Peter’s own scars are gently revealed: an unloving father has shaped Peter into a relentless perfectionist, taking his anger out on everyone around him. Meanwhile, bassist Reg battles addiction with perpetual scene-stealer Zachary Hart capturing his narcotic haziness with tragicomic brilliance.

Animated by music by Will Butler (formerly of Arcade Fire), played and recorded live by the actors on stage, it’s a probing examination of what it means to make art, and why it matters that someone should. As the songs soar and lives collapse, it a...

Animated by music by Will Butler (formerly of Arcade Fire), played and recorded live by the actors on stage, it’s a probing examination of what it means to make art, and why it matters that someone should. As the songs soar and lives collapse, it asks questions about relationships, the cost of things, and the value of seeking joy or giving in to despair. It is almost existential in its concerns, yet its overlapping, quickfire dialogue is both funny, pungent and entirely naturalistic. I think it is a masterpiece.

Director Daniel Aukin’s production is as exacting and truthful as the script itself. Sounds and voices overlap as mic channels are opened and closed; silences are underscored with boredom and exhaustion. In between the kit-tinkering and longueurs a...

Director Daniel Aukin’s production is as exacting and truthful as the script itself. Sounds and voices overlap as mic channels are opened and closed; silences are underscored with boredom and exhaustion. In between the kit-tinkering and longueurs are moments of creative transcendence, including a late-night epiphany so electrifying that the sound waves will excite your internal organs. The cast, playing their own instruments, convince as an ensemble of longstanding and Lucy Karczewski, as Diana, has a voice that captivates even when it is exposed and cracking in a tense overdubbing session.

If I sound exasperated it’s because Daniel Aukin’s production arrives at the Duke of York’s in London trailing so much praise and so many Tony awards. The performances are first-rate, and David Zinn’s set really does make you feel as if you h...

If I sound exasperated it’s because Daniel Aukin’s production arrives at the Duke of York’s in London trailing so much praise and so many Tony awards. The performances are first-rate, and David Zinn’s set really does make you feel as if you have a seat on the mixing desk. Yet at over three hours long it’s burdened with far too many longueurs. How ironic that arguments in the second half turn on how to make minor cuts to the album’s running time: Stereophonic would be much punchier if it were at least 30 minutes shorter.

Structurally, it’s a three-and-a-bit-hour interrogation of the creative process that features little more than the band chatting to each other or recording. Set solely in a windowless studio, director Aukin has supreme confidence in the play’s pa...

Structurally, it’s a three-and-a-bit-hour interrogation of the creative process that features little more than the band chatting to each other or recording. Set solely in a windowless studio, director Aukin has supreme confidence in the play’s pacing and rhythms. There is a lot – like a lot – of fannying around over drum sounds and guitar tones, but the play leads us to the right psychological space to understand that there’s much more to this than musos muso-ing. A blizzard of coke, exhaustion, the enormous pressure to follow up their previous album, and of course cataclysmic inter-band tensions all go some way to explain why the band and their affable engineers Grover (Eli Gelb) and Charlie (Andrew R Butler) find themselves agonising over every detail.

We have to believe that this fractured group is capable of greatness, and the sumptuous, blood-pumping original music by Arcade Fire’s Will Butler absolutely convinces us. When the band does finally nail a song, it is spine-tingling – especially ...

We have to believe that this fractured group is capable of greatness, and the sumptuous, blood-pumping original music by Arcade Fire’s Will Butler absolutely convinces us. When the band does finally nail a song, it is spine-tingling – especially as the cast sing and play all their instruments live. They’re so good that you wish there was more music. Adjmi’s wry, unhurried hypernaturalism deliberately immerses us in their experience – the stop-start frustrations, exhaustion, mundane moments juxtaposed with transcendent ones – but, over three hours, it’s slightly too gruelling.

In its huge favour: after three hours of eavesdropping on a lovingly recreated retro recording studio (anachronistic Yamaha monitors aside), you’ll likely emerge from the theatre feeling elated and attached to the unnamed band – two fractious cou...

In its huge favour: after three hours of eavesdropping on a lovingly recreated retro recording studio (anachronistic Yamaha monitors aside), you’ll likely emerge from the theatre feeling elated and attached to the unnamed band – two fractious couples and a drummer with a fraying marriage back home. They slog through sessions, and verbally slug it out, tended by a pair of geeky but laid-back sound engineers. There’s idle chat and cocaine, spliffs and tiffs, and gilded moments when the music (impressively performed live by the cast) goes from side-show to main event.

It has nothing to do with the Welsh band Stereophonics, though everything to do with typical rock band behaviour. Playwright David Adjmi hasn’t named the one we are watching, a band recording an album in 1976 that will make them megastars, as Rumou...

It has nothing to do with the Welsh band Stereophonics, though everything to do with typical rock band behaviour. Playwright David Adjmi hasn’t named the one we are watching, a band recording an album in 1976 that will make them megastars, as Rumours did for Fleetwood Mac, a band notoriously riven with breakdowns and divorces. But the internecine spats Adjmi’s group members engage in as the album’s gestation drags on, and six months become a year, are standard-issue for most gods of rock.