'The Great Gatsby' review — the rip-roaring Jazz Age musical adaptation romps into the West End

Read our review of The Great Gatsby, starring Jamie Muscato and Frances Mayli McCann, now in performances at the London Coliseum to 7 September.

The Coliseum is awash with gangsters, flappers and bootleg liquor as the rip-roaring Broadway musical version of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s seminal Jazz Age novel The Great Gatsby romps into the West End. Yes, old sport, we’re all invited to one of Jay’s legendary parties – but just how does this mysterious millionaire fund his lavish lifestyle?

The answer to that and the novel’s other burning questions are emphatically supplied in an adaptation that much prefers resounding clarity to ambiguity or subtext. It’s reminiscent of the 2013 Baz Luhrmann movie, which likewise went big on the Roaring Twenties excess and volatile emotions, though at the expense of Fitzgerald’s biting commentary on class, old versus new money, and the broken promise of the American Dream.

Our narrator is war veteran and struggling bond salesman Nick Carraway, who rents a humble cottage on Long Island and discovers that the neighbouring mansion belongs to elusive mogul Jay Gatsby. Drama ensues when Nick reconnects his cousin Daisy (now unhappily married to boorish snob Tom Buchanan) with her old flame Gatsby; Nick also witnesses Tom’s affair with Myrtle Wilson, wife of a local garage owner.

Kait Kerrigan’s accessible book hurtles through the action, adding brisk explanations for the characters’ various dilemmas. In particular, she beefs up the female voices – an admirable intent, especially when it comes to Daisy, who is often depicted as a shallow socialite and a prize to be fought over.

But so passionately underscoring the gendered double standards of marriage in this era (men can cheat publicly; women stand to lose everything, including their children) makes Daisy almost too sympathetic. She loses her moral shading – and these characters aren’t meant to be saintly, romantic victims of circumstance. It causes problems in the murkier second half.

Jamie Muscato and Frances Mayli McCann nevertheless lend considerable heft to Gatsby and Daisy’s doomed recoupling, especially when belting out Jason Howland and Nathan Tysen’s colossal Disney-esque power ballads. Muscato is also endearingly funny, diving behind a hedge when panicking about their upcoming date. His insecurity is always visible beneath the suave surface.

Corbin Bleu is an excellent Nick: amused by all this louche behaviour, then increasingly appalled and disillusioned. His standout moment comes when stuck in a seedy apartment, singing plaintively that he wishes he was at the Met. Kerrigan amps up Nick’s flirtation with golfer Jordan (Amber Davies) to nicely comic effect, but it seems odd to ditch the potential queer reading of both – an element that would surely chime with modern audiences.

Rachel Tucker and John Owen-Jones are luxury casting as, respectively, brassy Myrtle and a shady gangster, though Tucker is rewarded with a knockout Act II solo. But the show-stealer is Jon Robyns, memorably embodying the casual cruelty of the sneering, polo-playing, ruthlessly selfish Tom. McCann’s most compelling moment comes with Robyns, as she simultaneously criticises her husband for being a “brute” and is seemingly drawn to his strength.

Marc Bruni’s production boasts lavish Art Deco production design by Paul Tate DePoo III, including not one but two gleaming vintage cars and vivid projections whisking us between locations, plus sparkling costumes by Linda Cho. Cory Pattak’s lighting provides the all-important green glow that ensnares Gatsby and turns the orchestra pit into a vast swimming pool. Even as disaster strikes, this spectacular party never ends.

The Great Gatsby is at the London Coliseum to 7 September. Book The Great Gatsby tickets on LondonTheatre.co.uk.

Photo credit: The Great Gatsby (Photos by Johan Persson)