★★★★☆
The Choir of Man has been making its rounds, embarking on its first UK tour. Aptly conceived in a beer garden in 2016, and premiering as a fringe show, creators Nic Doodson and Andrew Kay probably never imagined how successful their pub culture jukebox musical could be, with it touring across the globe and earning a stint in the West End.
Having seen the show once before, I knew to what to expect with this unique immersive show. Even knowing what was coming, I had a blast! Strangely, I ended up enjoying it much more than my first visit to “The Jungle”, whether it be due to a more upbeat audience, connecting with the messaging more, or getting used to the more unconventional concert structure.
On my first viewing, I didn’t really understand what the show was trying to say. The narrative had little substance, the preachy narrations felt like they stalled the musical action, and it touched on lots of points without going in-depth. Some of these points still stand, particularly the lack of detailed character exposition and briefly touched topics (i.e. mental health), but I found a new appreciation for its prioritisation of a carefree, uplifting atmosphere.
The show follows a group of “typical” men sharing their stories and personalities through a mixture of energetic and emotional numbers, lifting each other’s spirits (literally). While the characters are based on universal pub archetypes, the poet’s monologues are based in reality, sprinkling in real information about the rotating cast of actor-musicians in vignettes. This showing, the lovable nonet was made of Sam Walter (the romantic), Oluwalonimi Owoyemi (the Poet), Jack Skelton (the Handyman), Joshua Lloyd (the Barman), Gustav Melbardis (the Maestro), Niall Woodson (the Hardman), Lewis Dragisic (the Beast), Aaron Pottenger (the Bore) and Ben Mabberley (the Joker).
There’s lots of fun personalities shining through for each character although you never get to know them quite as much as you’d like. Despite this it’s quite an emotional rollercoaster, with great albeit random rock and pop classics mixed with chanty pub hits and folk ballads.
While the show does promote drinking culture, its main focus is community through hardship, and the closure of so many communal spaces – themes it promotes through its immersive elements. Its exploration of masculinity is also a plus, although I do wish it had some more in-depth interactions with these topics.
The Coir of Man’s most unique faculties are a rather impressive range of gags and audience interactions. They might be gimmicky but what other show lets you go on stage, drink, and interact with the cast, before and during the show? The cast wander round hyping up the crowd, play instruments, lob crisps and coasters, handout drinks, and play bar games with card towers, beer pong, and cup stacks. Some lucky audience members are also invited up, drinking, and being serenaded by the cheeky chaps. I particularly enjoyed the coyness of the urinal sequence.
Oli Townsend’s staging is a working bar with a gently glowing multi-coloured checkerboard flashback, dark wooden panelling, bold tropical wallpaper, functional swing doors, and a myriad of quirky anthropomorphic pictures.
Even Freddie Huddleston’s movement and choreography bring out the choir’s relatable side, their manly mischief, innuendos, and a range of seemingly effortless, well-synched dance numbers. Highlights include a tap-dancing spectacular, entertaining rhythmical poses, and mesmerising tankard clanking routines that highlight the group’s synergy.
Vocal arrangements by Jack Blume are mind-boggling with a cappella sections, soaring nine-part harmonies, chilling bass vocals, and a handful of rocking riffs. My favourite archetypes were the eccentric maestro (Melbardis), the love-hungry barman (Lloyd), and the thought-provoking poet (Owoyemi) whose passionate tone, poignant solo number, and teary-eyed speech (the Lowry being the site of his first theatre experience) wooed the crowd.
After the first of two curtain call songs (a section that goes on a tad long), the crew invited local choirs to sing-along to ‘Chandelier’ in an impressive 200+ harmony.
Ultimately, The Choir of Man might not be a perfect jukebox musical, but it certainly has spirit! While its story lacks bite and its characters need more fleshing out, it excels as an intimate gag-filled concert with lots of clever tricks and toe-tapping tunes.
