Review: SING STREET, Lyric Hammersmith Theatre

Tale as old as time: boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy writes songs to impress said girl. Except that it’s never that easy. Conor’s life consists of fighting parents and being bullied at his new Catholic school. When he meets Raphina, too cool for Dublin and harbouring big dreams of being a model, the obvious thing to do is to cast her in a music video, but Conor doesn’t have a band.

Cue a tale about yearning for love, longing for more, and standing up to bullies. When John Carney’s coming-of-age film came out in 2016, it instantly nestled its way in the hearts of the underdogs and dreamers – so does this stage adaptation.

Enda Walsh is at the book, Gary Clark and John Carney at music and lyrics, Rebecca Taichman at the direction, and Sonya Tayeh at the choreo. Much like their fictional band, they can’t lose. The show is remarkable in every detail, marrying feverish hope with bleak reality. Taichman plunges the audience into specificity, establishing the emotional strife faced by Conor and his siblings alongside the economic tension of recession, unemployment, and migration in the first minute of traffic. No, this isn’t just about wooing a girl.

Exquisite projection work by Luke Halls washes Bob Crowley’s bare cement walls, transporting the action and expanding its scope with integrated imaging that enhances the narrative. Static takes over when Conor’s parents argue, psychedelic shapes when the group plays. The addition of a video element also firmly plants a world where Top of the Pops dominate the industry and music videos are a key part of artistic expression. 

The characters all reflect the symptoms of a shattered society, starting with Conor’s (Sheridan Townsley) transfer from private education to a state-funded faith school. Then there’s Conor’s brother Brendan (Adam Hunter in his theatre debut), a former cool kid with plenty of music-related dreams, who hasn’t left the house in four months, and his sister Anne (Tateyana Arutura), with the architectural studies she hates but are their parents’ only hope. His mum and dad  (Lucianne McEvoy, Lochlann O’Mearáin) only add to the chaotic mind of a teenager. Conor’s friends and band-mates further the depth, with Eamon (Jesse Nyakudya) having a particularly moving side plot.

Townsley is the nova in a firmament of stars in the making. He leads a lineup of captivating top-class actor-musicians with explosive energy. Having the cast play their own instruments adds authenticity and amps up the excitement. Harry Curley (Larry), Indiana Hawkes (Gary) Nyakudya, Matthew Philp (Declan), and Seb Robinson (Kevin) share the sparkling chemistry that would have audiences swoon if they were a real group. We’ll go as far as to say that they might be the coolest ensemble currently treading a London stage. They play with invigorating, energising, fun flair, fully owning Clark and Carney’s melodies.

New numbers have been written for the musical, like the bopping opener “Everything Stops For Top of the Pops” and Raphina’s gut-wrenching Kate Bush-inspired ballad. Walsh doesn’t deliver a photorealistic adaptation of the film, but opts for streamlining some details in order to expand others. As he did for Once, he reimagines the story to fit the stage rather than sacrificing the craft to keep the beats of another medium. The most eye-catching development is given to Raphina (​​Grace Collender in a stunning performance), who is removed from her side-character loneliness to become a well-rounded, flawed, heartbreaking young woman who’s already seen too much for her young age.

Extra attention is also given to Brendan, with Hunter offering a haunting look at mental health. He juxtaposes the brightness of Brendan’s old self with the sheer panic of anxious depression, sinking into the sofa and failing to show up for his little brother until his devotion to Conor wins. The focal point to understand his role is a non-verbal transition set to “Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want” by The Smiths that anchors his struggle – a chilling moment that sums up the multilayer expressions of emotion present in the piece. 

There are too many highlights to mention. “Up” and “Beautiful Disguise” when it comes to songs, as well as “Drive It Like You Stole It” and “Girls”. Raphina’s choreography inside the gorgeously graffitied green phone booth. Jenny Fitzpatrick’s Sandra (Eamon’s mother) lecturing Lloyd Hutchinson’s Brother Baxter for being horrible to the kids, but also the latter serving a horrifying scene when he essentially waterboards Conor for wearing makeup to school. And, finally, Barry’s trajectory from punk bully to complicated buddy. 

Conor says he wants to make music that’s “happy-sad” – the creative team took that line and made it their own mission statement. It’s a bittersweet love letter to 80s Ireland and a tonic for a broken world. The score is infectious, the company is astonishing, the writing is flawless, the production is clever. It’s about family, friendship, angst, strength, all wrapped up in positive nostalgia. In a plethora of safe adaptations, Sing Street stands out uncompromisingly. It belongs on a stage, it warrants being led by actor-musos, and it deserves a long life.

Sing Street runs at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre until 23 August.

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