One of the most regrettable recent casualties of the rising challenges facing the theatre industry was Nick Winston’s 2024 tour of Bonnie & Clyde. The run was cut short just a handful of venues in, despite strong reviews and positive word of mouth, with producers citing disappointing ticket sales as the main culprit for the wheels coming off.

Having seen Winston’s big, audacious and technically dazzling offering, it’s easy to see why it was no doubt a costly piece of theatre to stage, and thus needed significants bums on seats to be sustainable. Major projection work, staging and audiovisual bombast doesn’t come cheap these days.

It’s precisely what made the announcement of the Old Joint Stock Theatre’s revival such a compelling one. The Birmingham venue has been developing a reputation for high-quality yet comparatively intimate in-house productions of late. Could the team learn from the misfortunes of Winston and co, and put on a smaller scale, less ostentatious revival of Bonnie & Clyde that still did Wildhorn, Black and Menchell’s piece justice?

For whilst this is, with a sixteen-strong cast, in many ways the venue’s biggest outing to date, it is still all housed within the Old Joint Stock’s bijou upstairs theatre, where the flanking audience are literally within touching distance of all the action.

Credit to the cast and company alike, then, for not only pulling off a slick, exciting piece of musical theatre in and of itself, but indeed a revival that fires off with just as much talent, energy and emotional clout as its doomed forebear.

“a slick, exciting piece of musical theatre in and of itself… that fires off with just as much talent, energy and emotional clout.”

Depicting the coming together and eventual short-lived but long-lasting infamy of its titular outlaws, taken at surface value, Bonnie & Clyde is a fairly procedural biopic. Young Bonnie Parker (India Lily Cooper) is an ingenue abandoned in a loveless marriage, with aspirations of Hollywood and adoration, with dreams of being the next Clara Bow. She catches the eye of charismatic troublemaker Clyde Barrow (Samuel Murray), who has frequent run ins with the law, alongside younger brother, Buck (Killian Thomas Lefevre).

The romantic folie à deux that follows charts the duo’s rise from petty criminality to quasi celebrity status. Menchell does a decent job at giving the pair some shade and nuance, bleakly depicting the realities of Great Depression era Texas. Clyde’s argument that the law will never leave him be even if he goes ‘straight’ gets some credence, and there is even some hauntingly resonant commentary about justified criminality in America that feels more prescient than ever.

Ultimately, though, Bonnie & Clyde is a character study, and one elevated considerably by Wildhorn and Black’s music. From the infectious, jaunty earworms of ‘This World Will Remember Us’ and ‘You’re Going Back To Jail’ to the hefty character belts of ‘Dying Ain’t So Bad’ or ‘Raise A Little Hell’, it’s a great soundtrack, and cast and company alike bring it to life with real talent and gusto.

Director Emily Susanne Lloyd and movement director Ellie Begley deftly balance the confines of the space they have, whilst still serving up full bodied musical numbers in the likes of a hilarious hair salon back-and-forth or a spirit gospel invocation. Bonnie & Clyde doesn’t boast a huge number of big set pieces or song and dance moments, but Lloyd and Begley do a great job with what moments they can, offering spirited, characterful and vigorous choreography that stomps and sings a storm in the immediacy of the small theatre.

Despite consisting heavily of two-handers and quieter moments, Lloyd keeps things moving and fluid. Rapid fire transitions and intercuts between action are smooth and clearly defined, and there’s a steady, rhythmic pulse to the busier second Act in particular.

Sure, it can occasionally get a little too busy in the limited area, with sightline occasionally at jeapordy and even a threat of impending whiplash for some of the audience as they dart heads from left to right to keep up, but for the most part this is once again an impressive achievement within the space it is all housed. George P Martin’s wooden, fractured set is littered with enough detail to convey a sense of time and place, and is bathed in Joanne Marshall’s moody, atmospheric hues of orange and occasional cold, harsh blue.

Where it is less showy, though, this smaller productions equally sings, with its impressive company showcased up close and personal. Faye Campbell is feisty, likeable and frequently funny as Buck’s despairing, god-fearing, voice of reason wife, Blanche. She is heartbreaking in later scenes, and harmonises beautifully with Cooper on the stirring ‘You Love Who You Love’. Davis Weaver serves up strong vocals and sensitivity as the Sheriff determined to both take down Clyde and also win over childhood sweetheart, Bonnie. Charlotte Dixon proves an impressive and chameleonic character actress, whilst Charlotte Neale and Steven Rostance similarly impressive in a number of minor supporting roles.

“…there’s little doubt the evening belongs to its eponymous anti-heroes.”

But there’s little doubt the evening belongs to its eponymous anti-heroes. India Lily Cooper and Samuel Murray are both seriously impressive in the title roles; no feint praise given the demanding sings and performances asked of them. Murray embodies the cocksure charisma and barely repressed disdain of Clyde perfectly, giving a physically and vocally commanding turn throughout. He riffs through the big, high belts with confidence, but also displays a soulful, tender side with a beautiful rendition of lovelorn ode, ‘Bonnie’ . Cooper, similarly, proves herself a serious talent to watch. She not only does a searing, powerful job of the character’s big numbers, such as a rending ‘Dying Ain’t So Bad’, but so too does she chart Bonnie’s journey from impressionable dreamer to fiery criminal with complete authenticity and undeniable stage presence.

Individually, they are wonderful. Together – quite fittingly – they’re intoxicating.

So Bonnie & Clyde at the Old Joint Stock Theatre gets its Bonnie and Clyde – and practically everything else – right. It’s a vibrant, kinetic demonstration of not needing the biggest budget or most expansive of staging to present memorable musical theatre. And, if anything, the immediacy of the action only makes it all the more thrilling.

Very minor quibbles aside, the characterful and unique Birmingham venue once again defies conventional wisdom and modest confinements to stage a revival that is so individual, aspirational and entertaining that it should almost surely be criminal.