It’s a universal truth in the ebbing, organic flow of theatre making.

Just because one production is good, doesn’t mean they all will be.

Perhaps the reigning example of this creed is the wildly variable Ghost the Musical. The original West End production and subsequent tour remains one of the most technically dazzling and ambitious musicals ever put to stage. The barely watchable Bill Kenwright homunculus of it that followed a few years later, starring the late Sarah Harding, was a disaster. Its most recent reincarnation landed somewhere in between.

Of course, the reverse can be true, as well. One would rather pluck one’s own teeth than revisit the 2017 tour of Grease, whilst Nikolai Foster’s recent revisit gave it a much-needed MOT into a really exciting and vibrant piece of musical theatre.

Which brings us to Bat Out Of Hell, a show which, back in 2022 this very outlet called ‘one of the most gorgeous, vibrantly and innovatively realised productions you will see in any theatre.’

No prizes for guessing where this is going…

First, the good. This new, non-replica production at least gets its casting on point. Bringing back former cast members Glenn Adamson, Rob Fowler and Sharon Sexton alone makes for a compelling argument to see them do their thing. Katie Tonkinson, so great last year in the ill-fated Bonnie & Clyde, is equally impressive, and rounds out the central cast with gusto.

Bat continues to boast some of the best vocals you could wish for in a musical production, with Adamson and co routinely knocking raising the roofs with killer riffs and belts to what are, after all, seriously demanding sings in the discography or Meatloaf and Jim Steinman.

They’re enveloped by more excellence, too. Georgia Bradshaw, Luke Street and Ryan Carter are all seriously impressive, and a special shout out must go to local Wolverhampton talent Sophie-Rose Emery, who delivered a powerhouse understudy Valkyrie in the performance reviewed.

“The stage is almost literally set aflame with talent, and when you can just allow yourself to be swept along in the rock ’n roll of it all, there are moments of pure electricity.”

The stage is almost literally set aflame with talent, and when you can just allow yourself to be swept along in the rock ’n roll of it all, there are moments of pure electricity.

So give this company all their deserved plaudits; they give it their all and present some seriously commanding and soaring numbers masterfully.

The issue is, frankly, everything else. And the calibre of talent assembled for this production only makes its waste of them all the more glaring.

This is Bat Out Of Hell – the Ozempic years. Whilst never the most intricate or groundbreaking of narratives, Steinman’s original book presented a dystopian slant on Peter Pan, all drenched in lashings of punk rock anarchy. The bones of its story are just about intact: a powerful, corporate overlord (Rob Fowler) tries to prevent his ingenue daughter, Raven (Katie Tonkinson) from becoming entangled with Start (Glenn Adamson), the spunky leader of a group of rebellious youths who will never grow old.

For those familiar with the previous production, it’s impossible to not feel disappointed that so much of the plot and substance is either blitzed through or chopped out altogether. And yet, despite taking out entire numbers (three in total), it doesn’t seem to have any time for world or character-building, either. Spare a thought for those who are new to it all; interval murmurings had several people completely lost as to what on earth was supposed to be going on.

As well as being inexcusably rushed, rendering some of it almost incomprehensible, there’s precious little sense of character or motivation. The central love interest and Raven’s parents seem to separate and reunite every ten minutes. Good luck decoding why; there seems to be more time given to the reasons behind the will they, won’t they of Bradshaw and Carter’s Zahara and Jagwire. Someone says something about underground tunnels and ‘deep ends’ at some point. Answers on a postcard for the uninitiated.

Without context or breathing space, moments of humour fall flat or, in the case of what was formerly a raucous, show-stopping duet between Fowler and Sexton, feel uncomfortable and jarring here. 

“As well as being inexcusably rushed…. there’s precious little sense of character or motivation.”

And the choreography. It’s serviceable for some of the bigger set pieces – the company briefly bringing ‘Dead Ringer for Love’ to life as a song and dance interlude – but for the most part it’s bizarre, distracting and borderline parodic. Whenever our two leads are together they awkwardly bound about each other like a pair of agitated rabbits. It feels laden, awkward and at times even amateur.

This Bat Out Of Hell is directed in a fashion that seems, if anything, annoyingly burdened by the whole musical theatre inconvenience, when it really just wants to be a staged rock concert. For most shows of this ilk, that would acceptable (enjoyable, even). Yet there’s no denying this Bat has had its wings, logic and much of its compelling uniqueness clipped altogether. So much of what made it a fun, quirky and original piece of musical theatre storytelling has been binned in favour of a rushed, confusing mess.

The legitimately superb cast do their absolute best to salvage it, and the vocals and performances remain arguably worth the price of admission alone, but as the pendulum of production quality swings, the former great version of this show is All Coming Back to Me Now.

And I guess, with that in mind, Two out of Five Stars ain’t bad…

Note: TWE recently reviewed  ‘Chicago’ earlier in its tour. Given that this is the same touring production, what follows is a revised version of that same review, updated for its visit to the Wolverhampton Grand.

As we appraise a show already reviewed earlier in its run, let Chicago the Musical’s most overriding swipe at celebrity culture and infamy linger for a second.

Namely; flavour of the month can change on a dime.

It’s a truth that transposes itself onto this new production of Ebb, Kander and Fosse’s fan favourite in a curiously meta fashion.

Take a glance at the show’s current tour schedule and it appears to almost be a dice roll of who will be appearing where. Head on down to Norwich next month and 80s legend Sinitta will be temporarily reclaiming the reins of Matron ‘Mama’ Morton. Strictly favourite Kevin Clifton recently capped off his appearance in the tour for a handful of venues, fand X Factor and Loose Women alumni swings back in for the show’s last stop in Salford.

In our review of the current touring production at the Alexandra earlier this year, this writer made a point of clearly establishing that glitzy five star rating was for the assemblage of leads that Brum was treated to. Heck, we even prefaced it all with: We can’t be held responsible if you are reading this further down the line and your Billy Flynn proves a damp squib, or your Matron ‘Mama’ Morton can’t riff for the back rows.

Which brings us to Wolverhampton, as Chicago fosses it way into the City for a week-long engagement at the Grand. You’ve likely already glanced at that star rating, but we’ll get to the whys of that shortly.

Those familiar with the show will be pleased to know that this is very much the tale of ‘greed, corruption, violence, exploitation, adultery and treachery’ you know and love, staged with real Fosse-worthy pizzaz and zest. It’s a sexy, funny, silly romp through the misadventures and opportunism of jailbirds Roxie Hart (Janette Manrara) and Velma Kelly (Djalenga Scott) who find themselves banged up for murder.

And, as the tagline for Rob Marshall’s Oscar-gobbling 2002 film adaptation shrewdly chimed – if you can’t be famous, be infamous.

“Somehow both more heightened and stripped back at once on stage when compared to Marshall’s film adaptation, the current touring production really leans into the zanier, freewheeling hijinks of Ebb and Fosse’s book.”

Somehow both more heightened and stripped back at once on stage when compared to Marshall’s film adaptation, the current touring production really leans into the zanier, freewheeling hijinks of Ebb and Fosse’s book. As the two warring murderesses attempt to outdo one another, abetted by their slick operator of a lawyer (Darren Day) and equally self-serving prison matron (Victoria Anderson), whole numbers omitted from the film are present and accounted for here, such as Roxie’s wonderfully goofy ‘Me and My Baby’ and Velma’s accompanying ‘I Know A Girl’.

Naturally, all the iconic favourites – from seminal opener ‘All That Jazz‘ onwards – are here, too, and in the hands of such a strong company, and with a splash of extra sexiness and fun injected into Fosse’s classic choreo courtesy of Ann Reinking and Gary Chryst, it’s quite possibly the best that Chicago has looked, moved and sounded in its several decades of existence. The show’s iconic tiered, minimalist staging, very much evocative of the cabaret joints of the era, remains distinctive and effective in its simplicity. Tour director Tânia Nardini makes great use of it, not least of all with resident MD Neil MacDonald a show-stopping tenant – leading a truly impressive ten-strong orchestra on-stage, who prove to be a star attraction in and of themselves.

Before, about and even between them, a seriously impressive company strut, split and sidle their way through this exciting, sultry revisit. They are excellent across the board, though particular plaudits must go to Annabelle Lang, Victoria Anderson, Ria Tanaka, Lucy-Anne Stacey and Bethany Adamson who, in addition to being on multi-role ensemble duty, help solidify ‘The Cell Block Tango’ as one of musical theatre’s great numbers. Similarly, whilst Josh Crowther makes for a physically imposing and dashing Fred Casely, it’s actually in his later quirkier, caricature beats where he really impresses with some terrific physical comedy and character work.

Djalenga Scott triumphantly returns to the role of Velma Kelly, singing and sassing up a veritable storm as the feisty ‘OG’ merry murderess. Joshua Lloyd proves an endearing and boyish Amos, whilst many eyes will doubtless be on Strictly Come Dancing pro Janette Manrara to see whether she has the chops to take on the deceptively demanding role of Roxie Hart. Thankfully, she does not disappoint. Like much of the show, Roxie on stage is a far more manic, goofy and even brattish creation than on screen, and Manrara brings an excitable physicality to the role that is utterly infectious. She infuses so much vitality and nervous, hyperactive electricity into her Roxie that you can’t take your eyes off of this delicious interpretation of the character. And yes, her dance skills are put to terrific use, perhaps most notably in the puppetry hijinks of ‘We Both Reached For The Gun’ and the comic freewheeling of ‘Me and My Baby’.

“Manrara brings an excitable physicality to the role that is utterly infectious… and yes, her dance skills are put to terrific use.”

Darren Day steps into the sauve, cocksure shoes of defence lawyer Billy Flynn, and whilst he certainly looks the part, a lot of the character’s higher register and bigger belts elude Day. He’s a perfectly serviceable Billy, but when compared to other Billy’s on this very tour, it hard to shake that it feels like a downgrade. The production has also lost the riffing, belting prowess of Brenda Edwards as Mama Morton, though it has to be said, ensemble member Victoria Anderson who stepped in for Edwards can belt for the heavens, too, even if the characterisation felt a little thin.

Much like we said earlier in the year, if this current touring production is indeed a changing, evolving beast with a variable lineup at practically every stop of the way, then, as mentioned, you may need to adjust your mileage accordingly. Chicago lives and breathes on its casting, and you only need to glance at previous reviews by this very outlet to know that some of the alternate casting choices are something of a mixed bag.

So if Wolverhampton isn’t quite getting to experience Chicago at its absolute sexiest and best (curiously in the performance reviewed, Manrara’s opening number was grounded from its ladder-scaling heights to being plonked on stage), it’s still a sizzling, relentlessly entertaining spectacle of Vaudevillian delights and iconic numbers. It’s directed and choreographed to absolute perfection, and high-kicked and jazz-handed to the stage by a cast and company who are (mostly) so good you’d almost think it should be illegal.

Come on babe, why don’t you paint the town, and see what all the Fosse’s about.

Before you allow yourself to be too razzle dazzled by that star rating, let Chicago the Musical’s most overriding swipe at celebrity culture and infamy linger for a second.

Namely; flavour of the month can change on a dime.

It’s a truth that transposes itself onto this new production of Ebb, Kander and Fosse’s fan favourite in a curiously meta fashion.

Take a glance at the show’s current tour schedule and it appears to almost be a dice roll of who will be appearing where. Head on down to Cornwall next week and 80s legend Sinitta will be temporarily reclaiming the reins of Matron ‘Mama’ Morton from Brenda Edwards. Pop along to Chicago by way of, say, Bristol or Canterbury and you get yourselves a different dose of Strictly goodness as Kevin Clifton dips in for a handful of venues, followed soon after by Darren Day.

So it behooves this reviewer to reiterate that, as a show that has always been heavily dependent on the quality of its cast – not to mention occasionally waylaid by clumsy stunt casting – those five stars are strictly (no pun intended) laid at the lineup Birmingham audiences have been treated to at the Alexandra this week.

We can’t be held responsible if you are reading this further down the line and your Billy Flynn proves a damp squib, or your Matron ‘Mama’ Morton can’t riff for the back rows.

But back to Brum, and although the bins may be piling high and the local council looks like something that could actually have been plucked directly from the great depression, the city can at the very least boast a truly glittering ensemble for its turn on the Chicago cast tombola.

Those familiar with the show will be pleased to know that this is very much the tale of ‘greed, corruption, violence, exploitation, adultery and treachery’ you know and love, staged with real Fosse-worthy pizzaz and zest. It’s a sexy, funny, silly romp through the misadventures and opportunism of jailbirds Roxie Hart (Janette Manrara) and Velma Kelly (Djalenga Scott) who find themselves banged up for murder.

And, as the tagline for Rob Marshall’s Oscar-gobbling 2002 film adaptation shrewdly chimed – if you can’t be famous, be infamous.

“Somehow both more heightened and stripped back at once on stage when compared to Marshall’s film adaptation, the current touring production really leans into the zanier, freewheeling hijinks of Ebb and Fosse’s book.”

Somehow both more heightened and stripped back at once on stage when compared to Marshall’s film adaptation, the current touring production really leans into the zanier, freewheeling hijinks of Ebb and Fosse’s book. As the two warring murderesses attempt to outdo one another, abetted by their slick operator of a lawyer (Dan Burton) and equally self-serving prison matron (Brenda Edwards), whole numbers omitted from the film are present and accounted for here, such as Roxie’s wonderfully goofy ‘Me and My Baby’ and Velma’s accompanying ‘I Know A Girl’.

Naturally, all the iconic favourites – from seminal opener ‘All That Jazz‘ onwards – are here, too, and in the hands of such a strong company, and with a splash of extra sexiness and fun injected into Fosse’s classic choreo courtesy of Ann Reinking and Gary Chryst, it’s quite possibly the best that Chicago has looked, moved and sounded in its several decades of existence. The show’s iconic tiered, minimalist staging, very much evocative of the cabaret joints of the era, remains distinctive and effective in its simplicity. Tour director Tânia Nardini makes great use of it, not least of all with resident MD Neil MacDonald a show-stopping tenant – leading a truly impressive ten-strong orchestra on-stage, who prove to be a star attraction in and of themselves.

Before, about and even between them, a seriously impressive company strut, split and sidle their way through this exciting, sultry revisit. They are excellent across the board, though particular plaudits must go to Annabelle Lang, Victoria Anderson, Ria Tanaka, Lucy-Anne Stacey and Bethany Adamson who, in addition to being on multi-role ensemble duty, help solidify ‘The Cell Block Tango’ as one of musical theatre’s great numbers. Similarly, whilst Josh Crowther makes for a physically imposing and dashing Fred Casely, it’s actually in his later quirkier, caricature beats where he really impresses with some terrific physical comedy and character work.

Of its leads, for what is the first time in over fifteen years of watching and reviewing this show, the Birmingham lineup at least doesn’t falter. There’s not a weak link to be found. Djalenga Scott triumphantly returns to the role of Velma Kelly, singing and sassing up a veritable storm as the feisty ‘OG’ merry murderess. Scott is perfectly cast in the role, which can also be said of the aforementioned Dan Burton, whose musical theatre credentials means we finally can enjoy a Billy Flynn who doesn’t crumble under the disappointment of stunt casting. Burton is suave, commanding and debonair as the morally dubious Flynn and, as is to be expected from the Olivier nominee, can sing and dance up a treat. Joshua Lloyd proves an endearing and boyish Amos, whilst Brenda Edwards truly goes to town riffing, growling and playing with her opening standard ‘When You’re Good To Mama’, delivering one of, if not the best version of the track to date.

“Manrara brings an excitable physicality to the role that is utterly infectious… and yes, her dance skills are put to terrific use.”

Many eyes will doubtless be on Strictly Come Dancing pro Janette Manrara to see whether she has the chops to take on the deceptively demanding role of Roxie Hart. Thankfully, she does not disappoint. Like much of the show, Roxie on stage is a far more manic, goofier and even brattish creation than on screen, and Manrara brings an excitable physicality to the role that is utterly infectious. Whilst she doesn’t quite deliver up the same belts and booming vocals of, say, Scott or Edwards, she infuses so much vitality and nervous, hyperactive electricity into her Roxie that you can’t take your eyes off of this delicious interpretation of the character. And yes, her dance skills are put to terrific use, perhaps most notably in the puppetry hijinks of ‘We Both Reached For The Gun’ and the comic freewheeling of ‘Me and My Baby’.

If this current touring production is indeed a changing, evolving beast with a variable lineup at practically every stop of the way, then, as mentioned, you may need to adjust your mileage accordingly. Chicago lives and breathes on its casting, and you only need to glance at previous reviews by this very outlet to know that some of the alternate casting choices are something of a mixed bag.

But Birmingham is certainly getting to witness Chicago at its sexiest and best; a sizzling, relentlessly entertaining spectacle of Vaudevillian delights and iconic numbers, directed and choreographed to absolute perfection, and high-kicked and jazz-handed to the stage by a cast and company so good you’d almost think it should be illegal.

Come on babe, why don’t you paint the town, and see what all the Fosse’s about.