'Sing Street' review — this energetic 1980s-set musical is powered by youthful exuberance

Read our review of Sing Street, adapted by Enda Walsh, now in performances at the Lyric Hammersmith to 23 August.

The engaging adaptation of the 2016 musical film Sing Street was first seen Off Broadway in 2019, only to have its subsequent Broadway debut curtailed by the pandemic. Now here it is in London, extensively tweaked and with a fresh cast, and there is much over which to enthuse – the emergence of a killer clutch of young actor-singers pre-eminently.

But it’s back to the drawing board for the book by Tony winner Enda Walsh (Once), which could use more art to complement the show’s abundant heart. The concert that closes the show brings the clap-happy crowd to its feet, but Rebecca Taichman’s production would be an unalloyed triumph if the writing could match the hard work of its highly energised, youthful cast.

The 1980s story here calls to mind another beloved, determinedly scrappy look at Irish music-making, The Commitments, perhaps cross-fertilised with Spring Awakening, the Tony-winning musical that itself began its London life at the Lyric Hammersmith in 2009.

Conor (Scottish newcomer Sheridan Townsley, in his professional debut) has moved from a private to a state school but nurses dreams of making it big with a band, and maybe even snaring a girlfriend in the bargain. No awards for guessing how things turn out.

“You boys need to keep on making music,” Conor and his fellow teens are told, and so they do, notwithstanding obstacles posed in various ways by a homophobic skinhead, Barry (Jack James Ryan), and a bullying man of the cloth (Lloyd Hutchinson). Both those characters do a psychological about-face by the show’s end that feels unearned, and it was unnerving (to say the least) to hear the laughter with which many of Barry's worst affronts were greeted from the audience.

Landing rather better is Conor’s pursuit of Raphina (Grace Collender), who shelters within a green phone box as if seeking refuge from the “happy/sad” world she is quick to reference, and the burgeoning confidence of Conor’s older brother, Bren (Adam Hunter, the show’s sole holdover from the film), who rather confusingly assumes centre-stage near the end, as if somehow the story was suddenly all about him.

We clock their parents’ marriage coming apart due to the mum’s philandering, not to mention the various skill sets of these young band members, who can opine on the virtues of F-sharp minor one minute and the prospects of getting laid the rest. The set conjoins miniature houses from designer Bob Crowley recalling his groundbreaking work on Carousel with a swirl of projections from Luke Halls that add up to so much psychedelic sludge: the show could use a visual makeover if it is to continue on its onward journey.

Others won’t care as they get drawn in by Gareth Owen’s busy soundscape, which does as much as the text to locate for us the battered Irish capital of the period. And the score by Gary Clark and John Carney (begetter of the film) pays homage to the likes of The Cure, Depeche Mode (a tricky one for these folks to pronounce) and The Smiths, whilst launching new numbers like Raphina’s “Beautiful Disguise”, which allows this lippy, angsty youngster to unleash her inner yearning.

You do long for more detail about both these people and the place they inhabit. But point these kids towards the raise-the-roof rebelliousness that informs the production's clamorous close, and you may well find yourself on the show’s likably raucous side.

Sing Street is at the Lyric Hammersmith to 23 August. Book Sing Street tickets on LondonTheatre.co.uk.

Photo credit: Sing Street (Photos by Manuel Harlan)