As the wanton chaos of the US Presidential election threw up its most unpredictable week yet, just as the UK readies for its own pivotal vote on, of all dates, July 4th, it seems a fitting time for Lin-Manuel Miranda’s magnum opus, Hamilton, to open in Brum.

There are few properties within the musical theatre world that seem to have clutched the zeitgeist with as much force as this; Miranda’s fulsome account of the life, trials and tribulations of the ‘forgotten’ founding father of the United States, Alexander Hamilton. Since landing just shy of a decade ago, it has scooped up every major award in the industry and gathered a fervent, impassioned following along the way.

“There are few properties within the musical theatre world that seem to have clutched the zeitgeist with as much force as this…”

For this, the show’s premiere UK touring production, Cameron Mackintosh and friends certainly haven’t missed their ‘shot’ at delivering Hamilton fever to all new regional audiences, with a bombastic, masterful production steered by one of the most impressive companies in musical theatre.

Much like another recent review – namely, the RSC and Good Chance Theatre’s Kyoto – one could be forgiven for thinking the bare bones synopsis of Hamilton would sit at odds with its mainstream popularity. Though it moves fairly briskly through a period of several decades, as it chronicles Hamilton’s (Shaq Taylor) ascent from idealistic orphaned student to one of the most influential figures in the new, fledgling United States, it still nonetheless deals with a heavy amount of history, political intrigue and even warfare. Major constitutional revolutions and brokered deals of finance, seats of power and position could easily be impenetrable, or at the very least, laden and dull.

The conjuration of real theatrical magic comes predominately, then, from Miranda’s unassailable score – a heady, whirlwind melange of hip hop, rap, jazz and musical theatre all. Hamilton comes out of the gates fast and unapologetic, the titular opening number a dizzy, almost discombobulating infusion of exposition, character and mission statement. From there, its relentless, whippet-fast barrage of sung-spoke introductions, developments and about-turns somehow manages to inform, educate and entertain all at once.

“The conjuration of real theatrical magic comes predominately, then, from Miranda’s unassailable score…”

Of course, it helps that it is all staged with real flair, too. Thomas Kail’s blistering, kinetic direction mixed with Andy Blankenbuehler’s electric choreography dance about within the imposing spectacle of David Korins and David Harris’ impressive, layered and versatile set. It all looks and feels premium. Exciting. A revolving centre stage is put to great use throughout, amplifying the sense of rhythm and movement, and even providing delicate transitions as one character literally glides into an intimate conversation with another.

So much of Hamilton not only fuses together and creates a greater whole, but also does so in a fashion which, in the hands of less confident creatives and performers, would likely lead to something resembling tonal whiplash. Miranda and all involved keep the pulse on the human condition, with the likes of ambition, stubbornness, lust, rage and all other manner of deeply characterful impulses threading through every number and sequence. Yes, there’s an awful lot of Hamilton that essentially amounts to men talking or disagreeing about their political aspirations, but it’s all deeply underpinned with relatable passions and drives.

And it isn’t shy of having fun with itself, either; see for instance, Daniel Boys’ extended, repeat cameo as King George, depicted here as a petulant, brattish spoilsport, which is utterly hilarious and a great puncture to the heavier moments around him.

The sizeable company and ensemble impress immediately, and maintain staggering energy levels and commitment throughout Hamilton’s considerable run time of just under three hours. There’s not a weak link to be found, from principles to swing. Taylor is the MVP as the main man himself, bringing a dignified yet poetic flair to his take on the titular role. Sam Oladeinde, meanwhile, is coolly malevolent as Hamilton’s long-time rival, Aaron Burr.

“There’s not a weak link to be found, from principles to swing.”

Charles Simmons brings a real sense of venerability to his George Washington, a stern yet decent supplicant father figure for Hamilton, whilst Maya Britto puts in a stunning turn, charting the journey of Eliza Hamilton from doe-eyed ingenue to one of the show’s most rounded and heart-rending figures. From the sidelines, Aisha Jawando is an avatar of unrequited feelings and quiet, august resolve as Eliza’s sister, Angelica in a soulful supporting turn. Finally, repeatedly a standout is Billy Nevers as both the Marquis de Lafayette and, in particular, his gloriously animated and flamboyant Thomas Jefferson – a real injection of vim and sass come Act II.

Buoyed by incredible foundations that are only elevated by high production values, superb direction and choreography, Hamilton heads out on the road with every ounce of its genius and magic not only intact, but positively crackling onto the regional stages. With nothing compromised, and delivered by a truly stellar company, if there is only one political whirlwind you expose yourself to this Summer, make sure it is the majesty and unmitigated mastery that is Hamilton.

Oh, and please vote, too.

…That’s kind of the point.

Art from adversity is a fairly commonplace mantra within the creative industries. Entertainment from tragedy, on the other hand, is an altogether thornier affair. Beset with potential pitfalls of insensitivity, not to mention tonal napalm, the thought of going anywhere near the likes of September 11th for, of all things, a musical, seems a recipe for potential disaster.

For certain, there’s been no paucity of films, event series and even theatre that oscillate around that fateful, world-changing day. These have been direct – from the likes of Paul Greengrass’ gripping United 93, which dramatises the heroic last stand of passengers on the titular airline, or Oliver Stone’s World Trade Center, which did similarly for the firefighters at ground zero – through to those merely informed by or adjacent to the tragedy, such as Anne Nelson’s The Guys or Stephen Daldry’s Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close.

With Come From Away, Irene Sankoff and David Hein ensconce themselves firmly within the latter category – shining a light on an incredible true story of collective kindness and selflessness during those fateful, tragedy-tainted days. Away tells the story of Gander, a remote Newfoundland town, once an essential transatlantic flightpath stop (before the advent of the jet engine), now a relatively self-contained community on an island – itself colloquially know as ‘The Rock’ – of fewer than ten thousand residents. A town where everyone knows everyone’s name, colourfully depicted with an early visit to the natural hub of all happenings – Tim Hortons.

Over the course of an immaculately-paced single act, Sankoff and Hein depict the extraordinary resolve and generosity of this small community, who were forced to take in thousands of passengers who flights were unexpectedly grounded after the planes hit the towers in New York.

Barely a second is wasted, and an astonishing company switch outfits and characters on a dime, with most on multi-role duty as both kindly Gander citizens and worry-struck passengers alike. Christopher Ashley’s direction is purposeful yet fluid throughout, ratcheting up the initial tension and horror of what is happening, whilst always threading through an undercurrent of heartwarming reassurance, and the indefatigable Gander spirit. Practically every other scene strikes the audience with an unanticipated dilemma of the crisis – where will all these people sleep? What happens to planes that sit still on asphalt for too long? Why can’t you just jump out of a landed plane when you aren’t allowed off of it? How do you store food for an unexpected doubling of your population?

“Barely a second is wasted, and an astonishing company switch outfits and characters on a dime…”

Away wheels through challenge, event and potential crisis effortlessly and briskly, and the level of research and care put into its book erupts from every scene. So much of Away’s chronicling brims with remarkable, real-life stories of fortitude, human spirit and, yes, tragedy. From the kindly animal hospital manager (Rossie Glossop) who turns out to be the only person to think of the animals locked away, unfed and unattended, within the planes’ holds, the town’s young aspiring reporter (Natasha J Barnes) tirelessly narrating each burgeoning crisis, right down to the opening of doors and homes across the community (“thank you for shopping at Walmart, would you like to come back to my house for a shower?”).

The show cleverly jostles perspective, too, with all manner of ‘I didn’t even think of that!’ moments cropping up with gripping regularity. The isolation, fear and uncertainty of passengers stuck on a grounded plane for over 24 hours in a mostly pre-mobile phone age. The tour-de-force of Sara Poyzer belting the story and pride of her Beverley being the first ever female pilot for American Airlines, before segueing into the numbness and shock of seeing her love of aircraft and flight having been used for something so heinous. And in the treatment of Jamal Zulfiqar’s Ali, the show offers glimpses at the intolerance and xenophobia that would come to fester and boil in the aftermath of the attacks.

In doing and saying so much, and ebbing around such calamitous, horrifying days, it would be so easy for Come From Away to be a tonal misfire. And yet, in no small part thanks to Ashley’s vibrant, razor-sharp direction and a truly fantastic cast who tackle the rapid-fire about-turns and transitions with energy to spare, it works exquisitely. For once, it would be completely remiss to single out any of this wonderful team of players, so complete and fantastic are their collective turns. You will be hard pressed to find a harder-working, more charismatic or impressive group of actors performing on a UK stage right now. They more than do their real life counterparts justice.

Whilst considerable chunks of Away do pass with little by way of musical interlude, the internal rhythm of the show means it feels melodic and, yes, musical throughout. And when we do get the big songs and set pieces, they are rhythmic, pounding and stirring affairs. Again, character reigns supreme, from the irrepressible, infectious joy of ‘Screech In’ as the locals initiate their guests in the ways of becoming an ‘islander’, to the stomping, anthemic bravura of ‘Welcome to the Rock’. Like so much of the production, Come From Away’s music is affecting, bold and steeped in identity and character. The talented team of musicians underpinning the show quite rightly get a curtain call celebration all of their own.

Moving, insightful and brimming with truth and perspective, for all of its joy and heart, Come From Away also deserves credit for being such a meticulously crafted piece of stagecraft and musical storytelling. Gorgeously performed, masterfully directed, here is an affecting, uplifting ode to the innate goodness of others, and a reminder of shared humanity and decency even during the darkest of days.

Welcome to the Rock. You’ll be kissing fish, shedding tears and almost certainly not want to be Away for long.