ONCE
Tired of having your senses assaulted? Bored with being bombarded by a wall of noise? Then Once is just the musical for you.
It began as a low-budget film, which became a cult hit. It went on to garner a clutch of Tony awards when it was staged on Broadway. And now it’s to be found in the Charing Cross Road, as understated and beguiling an evening as you’ll find anywhere in the West End.
You’re part of the action as soon as you enter the auditorium. Up on stage, in the re-creation of a Dublin bar, a collection of Irish musicians are having a bit of a hooley. Members of the audience are free to join them until the equivalent of curtain up, when the lights dim and we are slowly, seductively sucked into the story of a young man, at an emotional low ebb now that his girlfriend has decamped to New York, and a young woman who makes him come alive again.
It’s as simple as that and it’s absolutely charming. We watch as Guy and Girl – we never learn their names – fall in love in front of our very eyes. He’s a vacuum repair man working in his father’s shop, trying to break into the music business via his catalogue of self-penned songs. She’s a Czech immigrant, the mother of a young daughter and separated from the child’s father.
Declan Bennett perfectly depicts Guy’s transition from depression to re-awakening, from surliness to sunny smiles. And you utterly understand how he would find Zrinka Cvitešic’s pretty Girl irresistible. Together, they make beautiful music, in both senses of the phrase.
The music is melodic, sometimes rousing, and the actor/musicians acquit themselves well. There’s a sweet lament at the start of proceedings from Guy’s father (Michael O’Connor); a moving a capella number, Gold; and a reprised love song, Falling Slowly, guaranteed to bring a tear to a glass eye.
All right, some of the dialogue sometimes veers towards the clunky. ‘We always have to follow our dream and not give in to fear,’ declares Girl’s indomitable mother, Baruska (Valda Aviks), at one point. But this is a minor quibble in a pleasingly rather oldfashioned show, which will have you tapping your feet while simultaneously warming your heart.
At the Phoenix Theatre, 110 Charing Cross Road, London WC2, until 30 November: 0207438 9600, www.phoenixtheatrelondon.co.uk
It began as a low-budget film, which became a cult hit. It went on to garner a clutch of Tony awards when it was staged on Broadway. And now it’s to be found in the Charing Cross Road, as understated and beguiling an evening as you’ll find anywhere in the West End.
You’re part of the action as soon as you enter the auditorium. Up on stage, in the re-creation of a Dublin bar, a collection of Irish musicians are having a bit of a hooley. Members of the audience are free to join them until the equivalent of curtain up, when the lights dim and we are slowly, seductively sucked into the story of a young man, at an emotional low ebb now that his girlfriend has decamped to New York, and a young woman who makes him come alive again.
It’s as simple as that and it’s absolutely charming. We watch as Guy and Girl – we never learn their names – fall in love in front of our very eyes. He’s a vacuum repair man working in his father’s shop, trying to break into the music business via his catalogue of self-penned songs. She’s a Czech immigrant, the mother of a young daughter and separated from the child’s father.
Declan Bennett perfectly depicts Guy’s transition from depression to re-awakening, from surliness to sunny smiles. And you utterly understand how he would find Zrinka Cvitešic’s pretty Girl irresistible. Together, they make beautiful music, in both senses of the phrase.
The music is melodic, sometimes rousing, and the actor/musicians acquit themselves well. There’s a sweet lament at the start of proceedings from Guy’s father (Michael O’Connor); a moving a capella number, Gold; and a reprised love song, Falling Slowly, guaranteed to bring a tear to a glass eye.
All right, some of the dialogue sometimes veers towards the clunky. ‘We always have to follow our dream and not give in to fear,’ declares Girl’s indomitable mother, Baruska (Valda Aviks), at one point. But this is a minor quibble in a pleasingly rather oldfashioned show, which will have you tapping your feet while simultaneously warming your heart.
At the Phoenix Theatre, 110 Charing Cross Road, London WC2, until 30 November: 0207438 9600, www.phoenixtheatrelondon.co.uk