In recent decades, a myriad of musical instruments have come to London with foreign production values, which critics yearn for time machines so that they can move on to an inevitable, massively scale-down revival where writing can be enjoyed off-the-West End House. “Back to the Future – The Musical” is not one of these shows. Despite its many flaws, at least not just a serviceable score, Tim Hatley’s stunning, multi-dimensional design রো thrilling physical production, lighting, projection, sound, and hydraulics যা that threatens to re-read a film is a direct entertainment victory.
All you need to know is that Einstein does not exist. No, not a false philosophical premise: I’m talking about Doc Brown’s dog, or rather its lack of it. And – Doc’s “way of death” being contaminated by plutonium, not killed by gunmen – it’s the most varied of a night’s plot, which mostly follows every step of Robert Jemekis and Bob Gayle’s original blockbuster sticking out like eighteen. Contrary to expectations, the lack of originality leads to the fact that it doesn’t matter.
Even before the lights go out, it is clear that this production is aimed at making the sight dignified, with huge LED display panels rising above and outside the proscenium and across the walls of the orchestra. But the initial tension is sandbagged by the opening sequence.
The film’s doggy exposure is kept intact and every scene and moment in the movie, often with identical conversations and props, suggests initially thrilling an evening’s core. Anxiety spreads around. What are the audience members happily appreciating, their memories? Even Glenn Ballard’s added songs – a total of 2 listed, including movie numbers like “The Power of Love” – are very common to be remembered, explaining the state of mind rather than just blowing the imagination or carefully touching something under the surface.
Each actor acts like the winner of a similar competition to see the members, their movie is completed in every step and method of the opponent. And many of them have been instructed to appear in front of the audience, so much so that they have not stopped short of staring at us. For all neat, expectation founders start. Until, i.e. the arrival of the car.
Initially persuaded, Hatley’s skillfully firing-on-all-cylinder (and then some) Delorian is surprisingly exciting because it moves so fast. Hatley’s physical set-piece, Finn Ross’s fleet, flashing video and projection, Tim Lutkin’s skillful lighting and Gareth Wayne’s explosive sound design (everything from dynamic strings to Alan Sylvestry’s movie score) Hitting the bell, the audience roars with joy in their eyes and ears.
From there, everything – the purpose of repetition – moved up a gear.
The town of Marty 1955 “Schmigadun” নি perfect, complete with a brilliant population dedicated to song and dance. It allows the songs (and costume design) to have fun in 1950s styling, with some creating fitful choreography that is full of cleanliness but at a precious little pace.
Pastich songs work best, such as when Lauren reads for “Calvin” and a group of girls accompanies her from behind the scenes. But otherwise, the songs are more pop than theater. Instead of deepening or advancing, they say a case with anodine and / or mispronounced songs and re-describe: “I can’t wait for Uri in the twenty-first century” যwhich is an unreasonable number of knowledge just to keep the second law open there.
Yet all those problems disappear under the determination of the production team to give its audience a good time. After the break, the speed increases considerably and the wit becomes sharper. Cedric Neal is great as mayor and has given a serious hot voice to the character of band leader Marvin Berry. Instead of getting Marty stuck in the trunk of a car, Beef throws him into a dumpster – the best new joke of the evening. When Marvin leaves him, he looks back at Marty and asks, “Do they call it white rubbish?”
As Marty, Oli Dobson has never been quite comfortable in the role. But even though he is Michael J. In contrast, when Roger Bert fully captures Christopher Lloyd’s wide-eyed, manic intensity, he simply transcends disguise. Bert generates lots of smiles while ricocheting around the set. But it’s the control of his time that fascinates him, as he switches like a thunderbolt between a machine gun-fast delivery and a surprisingly long break from the ever-filled stagnation in the intensity of the comic. Every time he gets on stage, the temperature rises.
Like the recently opened “Frozen”, playing around the corner of Theater Royal Drury Lane, “Back to the Future” is not just a movie that people have seen; This is a viewed and reconsidered property. It is a curse as a blessing. It’s a tribute to the design team’s discovery that the action sequences are so hair-raising that even the hardest heart capitalizes. Is this a great musical? Absolutely not. Is it a great night out? Yes. You can believe a car can fly.