This Canadian musical from 2009, by Jacob Richmond and Brooke Maxwell, arrives in London with fans primed and a cast that knows how to work the crowd. You can appreciate why people are keen. The whole thing is quirky, with lots of good songs and very clever lyrics that allow performers to show off their talent. Arguably, it’s a little too kooky for its own good, perhaps not as funny or as profound as it wants to be. But a fear that some will be offended by that assessment tells us something has gone right – cult is an overused term, but this show deserves it.
The scenario is just strange. After the members of a school choir die at a fairground accident a fortune-telling automaton (a predictably unforgiving role for Edward Wu) tells them they must decide which one of them can return to life. As if a cue were needed, each of the teens gets the chance to sing, including a Jane Doe who lost her head in the accident. It’s all a little too morbid and a touch predictable… but if you find it intriguing, then fair enough.
The contents of the show, though, are good. The songs are varied and full of surprises. The lyrics contain unexpected twists. All the numbers are more than catchy – they are worth listening to again and again. Sentimentality is kept in check and there are lots of ideas on offer. If the score doesn’t hold together – it’s more a collection of strong songs – then the show makes a virtue of that.
Director and choreographer Lizzi Gee’s production does well with the small stage and makes up for technical limitations with inventive touches. The sound needs to be bigger, the dancing sharper. But the performances are super. The sextet – Baylie Carson, Grace Galloway, Robyn Gilbertson, Damon Gould, Bartek Kraszewski and Jack Maverick – sound great and make their characters fulsome. Each gets a well-deserved rapturous response. Smart touches (extra points for a kazoo) and plenty of humour make Ride the Cyclone a neat surprise. But it is the atmosphere that really makes the show worth a spin.
Until 10 January 2026
Photo by Charlie Flint