Pushing aside the obvious (cynical?) financial incentive of putting bums in seats, it’s often curious to ponder the thought process behind why certain shows are resurrected whilst others whinny off into yesteryear.

Nikolai Foster and Nick Winston, two of the central creatives behind this new production of Calamity Jane, certainly have a respectable track record of vibrant and exciting revivals. Heck, their collaborative re-interpretation of Annie was superlative enough to become pretty much definitive for a whole generation of theatregoers.

Calamity, however, is cut from far thinner and more weathered cloth than even Annie. And whilst the original Doris Day classic is undoubtedly exactly that, as a stage musical in 2025 it tugs in awkward, even unwelcome places.

How strong a prescription for rose-tinted spectacles is it possible to get? And can the nostalgia goggles muddy out some of the more problematic edges of a story decidedly of its time in regards to its language and attitudes toward women in particular?

But let’s not get too carried away to begin with. For the most part, Calamity Jane is a faithful (and thus fairly atypical) retread of a slice of good old ‘golden age’ Hollywood musical. Tough-talking, wise-cracking sharp-shooter Calamity Jane (Carrie Hope Fletcher – an inspired choice) becomes responsible for a pesky case of mistaken identities when attempting to help out her friend, saloon owner Henry (Peter Peverley). Her gung ho determination sees her bring a talented young ingenue (Seren Sandham-Davies) to her backwater town of Deadwood, Dakota, which only throws further wrinkles into an existing love triangle Jane may or may not have posited herself into.

Those not sat to watch Calamity out of fandom for its fantastic leading lady will likely be there for a hearty nostalgia hit. And a solid cast and company bring all the film’s favourite numbers – ‘The Deadwood Stage’, ‘The Black Hills of Dakota’ etc – to life with game aplomb. Whilst it’s surprising that Foster and Winston don’t make more of the actor-muso vibe injected into the production, it’s still full of spritely, game performances and there’s talent to spare on the stage.

“…even as a product of its time, the narrative and structural tendencies of Calamity Jane seem to groan and buckle under their age.”

It’s just that, even as a product of its time, the narrative and structural tendencies of Calamity Jane seem to groan and buckle under their age. Some of its more interesting moments are fleeting sub-plots; the aforementioned mistaken identity is resolved almost as quickly as it is introduced, and for a fleeting scene or two it appears a kindly supporting character may be going full villain, but alas they’re back to being sickly sweet the next time we see them. An early spot of drag amid another case of confused identities offer up some early laughs courtesy of Samuel Holmes’ delightful Francis.

But the core thrust of Calamity Jane is a wearily rote trot through two central romances that are as antiquated as it is perhaps possible to feel to a contemporary audience. Those with any fondness and familiarity for the original likely wouldn’t have it any other way, but some of how the second act in particular discusses and represents women feels almost achingly outdated to the point of verging on being problematic.

So your mileage will likely vary considerably on how familiar you are with the tale and tunes of Calamity Jane. It lands awkwardly as a contemporary revival, though that doesn’t stop a very game cast from giving it their all and doing great work with the clunky text they’re at times laden with.

Carrie Hope Fletcher is pitch perfect as the titular heroine, and whilst she can of course always be relied on to belt for the back rows, she’s equally impressive infusing her take on the tough talker with quieter, even broken moments. She’s in many ways the show’s saving grace, though it’s difficult to sometimes not wish her always-dependable talent wasn’t in service to a slightly more interesting or exciting character and story.

Vinny Coyle is a confident, suave presence as the cocksure Wild Bill Hicock, his rendition of ‘Higher Than a Hawk’ a real vocal standout. Luke Wilson is noticably underserved by the book as the object of Jane’s affections, Danny, though he makes the most of what few moments he gets. Seren Sandham-Davies fares better and gets more light and shade as excitable new arrival, Katie, and she sings and dances up a treat in both her flirty saloon turns as well as an almost diet coke version of Mary Poppins when giving Calamity’s cabin a ‘makeover’ (see: some pink patchwork curtains and a wonky table cloth).

“Carrie Hope Fletcher is pitch perfect as the titular heroine…”

Matthew Wright’s multi-storeyed set is suitably impressive and transportive as saloon-cum-theatre hybrid, though it is occasionally flattened by some uncharacteristically basic floods of lighting from Tim Mitchell. Much like the actor musos flittering about the stage, it seems like the full visual, aesthetic and creative juices of this revival aren’t quite flowing to their full potential. A late-game ball and a jubilant curtain call are the only times it really seems to kick into gear and make good on its promise to be a toe-tapping, do-si-do-ing musical jamboree.

Whether or not this pleasant and well-performed revisit to Calamity Jane justifies its existence will, again, probably be dependent on what you go in expecting. As a mostly faithful jaunt back to Deadwood, it’s a lively, serviceable outing that is carried by excellent performances. But even then, it feels strangely languid and uninventive given the calibre of its assembled creative team.

For everyone else, you may need to strap in for in particular its second act choices and dialogue having a head-on collision with modern sensibilities.

Thankfully, whichever camp you find yourself in, some spirited and joyful performances keep things ticking and enjoyable. And the talented cast do go a long way in mitigating the sepia stains and lumpy, often-awkward second act. 

Whilst this is by no means a calamity, it’s still difficult not to shake the feeling that, all things considered, and as a slice of musical theatre in 2025, it’s a disappointingly plain and undeniably outdated Jane indeed.