'Midnight at the Never Get' review — Ben Platt gives an extraordinary performance in this cabaret-style musical

Read our review of Midnight at the Never Get, now in performances at the Menier Chocolate Factory to 12 September.

Summary

• Midnight at the Never Get comes to the Menier Chocolate Factory
• This gem of a musical tells a story of illicit gay love in 1960s New York
• Ben Platt gives a heartfelt performance as cabaret singer Trevor
• Mark Sonnenblick cleverly puts a queer lens on the Great American Songbook

Mark Sonnenblick’s intimate three-hander about illicit gay love in 1960s New York debuted off-Broadway eight years ago, and this gorgeous, metatheatrical, musical show now arrives at the Menier Chocolate Factory. What begins as a cabaret becomes something more intimate and gripping: a reflection on memory, love, and loss, featuring an increasingly unreliable narrator.

Cabaret singer Trevor begins his performance by playfully reminiscing about his personal and working relationship with talented songwriter Arthur. He recalls how they met, fell in love over music, and then drifted apart under the pressures of changing political forces and professional differences.

In the 1960s, gay bars were present, but illegal. Yet at the Never Get club in gritty Greenwich Village, Trevor dares to sing Arthur’s witty ditties and deeply felt ballads without changing the pronouns to assume a heterosexual subject. Mainstream success becomes tantalisingly close, but their songs can never work in the ‘outside’ world. It is both an ultimately tragic love story, intermingled with a tale of quiet activism and social rebellion.

Multi-award-winner Ben Platt, the original Broadway star of Dear Evan Hansen, takes on the role of Trevor in a warm and heartfelt performance. Sincere, self-effacing, with flashes of fragility and effervescent emotion, Platt connects with the audience from the moment he appears. Trevor brims with amusing quips and seemingly honest storytelling, which gradually crack to show inconsistencies and alternative narratives. Platt’s vibrato-tinged voice is perfectly suited to the material and it’s a joy to witness his talents from such close quarters.

Seated behind the piano for much of the show, Gregor Milne could have faded into the background as Arthur, but stands out with both his convincing acting and artful playing. His chemistry with Platt radiates authenticity, as you laugh with them, root for them, then lament their separation. A short but striking climactic cameo from Barry James only enhances this feeling of sadness at what was lost and perhaps misunderstood.

Mark Sonnenblick’s vibrant and multi-layered music cleverly puts a queer lens on the Great American Songbook. Brimming with smart lyrics, charming harmonies, and velvety jazz inflections, it’s reminiscent of the work of Cole Porter and Irving Berlin. The excellent six-piece band is initially concealed, then gradually revealed as the story unfolds.

The snug production works particularly well as 90 minutes straight-through, allowing the emotions to build inexorably. The proximity of the stage to the audience and David Cromer’s generous direction allows real immersion in Trevor’s story, although the movement of a dance routine around the theatre feels a little awkward.

Scott Pask’s set design takes you straight into a cosy underground cabaret venue, with a small thrust stage surrounded by bistro tables topped with ashtrays full of (fake) cigarette stubs and old period matchbooks. Plush banquettes provide the tiered seating and the whole auditorium radiates a warm, smoky atmosphere, aided by Heather Gilbert’s exceptional lighting, glowing from small lamps dotted around.

The draw for Midnight at the Never Get will inevitably be Platt, but there is more to this small gem of a show. Tender, funny, and thoughtful — the Menier has done it again.

Midnight at the Never Get is at the Menier Chocolate Factory to 12 September.

Photo credit: Midnight at the Never Get (Photos by Johan Persson)