Love Never Dies, Adelphi Theatre

Oh, come on. You thought I wouldn’t be there at the first possible opportunity? Especially now that Andrew Lloyd Webber has been officially rehabilitated and it’s OK to like him again. (Although as a lifelong Joseph fan – and proud veteran of two separate productions, not counting the impromptu one we did at my parents’ thirty-fifth wedding anniversary party – I have always secretly liked him, even when it wasn’t OK.)

But Phantom holds a special place in my heart because I came to it quite late. Of course, I knew some of the tunes, because you can’t help it, but I didn’t know the story until I saw the 2004 Joel Schumacher film, which despite its being pretty awful I enjoyed enough that I went out and bought the original West End cast recording, and discovered that it’s even better when it’s performed by people who can actually sing. So then I went to see the stage version, and loved it, but still secretly sneered at those weird obsessive people who go over and over again. And then I went again. And the second time we sat much closer to the front and got to see the illusions up close, and I realised what a fabulous feat of stagecraft it is, as much as anything else. The music sends my soul on a trampoline bounce of happiness, but even if you were completely deaf you’d still get a top-class display of magic tricks and special effects. If you haven’t seen it, book now, and get tickets in the front stalls.

So when I heard there was going to be a follow-up, I thought that it would quite likely be awful, but I still knew I’d go. And when an email arrived late last week inviting me to buy tickets to a gala charity performance in aid of Great Ormond Street Hospital, I didn’t have to think about it for long.

But I’ve had twelve hours, very few of them involving any sleep, to think about the show itself, and I’m still not sure what to say about it. I’ll start with the good things. Once again, it’s gloriously imagined and realised, with something new to gasp at every few minutes. The setting, a Coney Island funfair at the turn of the (last) century, is suitably louche and seedy-glamorous to provide the design team with plenty of fuel for a really spectacular staging. And because Phantom has been using more or less the same effects for all of its twenty-four years, Love Never Dies looks very whizzy and modern in contrast, with its clever projections and mechanics. The projections are a bit overused, in fact: at one point, I found myself thinking: this is a film. But they are so lovely, so transporting, that I forgive the overuse. At their best, they feel like one of those musical moments in a Disney film where you think “Oh, why can’t the real world be this beautiful?”.

So the staging is great. And the music is great! More sophisticated than Phantom, and more interesting, with occasional nods to the original which are delicious for the dedicated fan and won’t be noticed by anyone else. It’s still a mishmash of styles and sounds, but if you don’t mind that, you won’t mind that. And the setting gives Lloyd Webber a chance to write a few numbers in the style of the golden age of Hollywood musicals; a challenge to which he rises with obvious relish. The lively scene-setting ensemble songs and the seaside location made me think of Carousel more than once, and in a good way.

Ramin Karimloo is an imposing and charismatic Phantom, towering over the rest of the cast both literally and metaphorically. He has a wonderfully strong tenor voice, with the added advantage that he never sounds even a little bit like Frank Spencer. That he doesn’t get to be as terrifying or as dramatic a character this time around isn’t his fault, and he’s still mesmerising whenever he’s on stage.

Joseph Millson is also excellent as Raoul, who has become a drunk and a gambler in the decade since we last saw him. Perversely, he is now much more fascinating than the weedy teenager of Phantom, which makes the battle for Christine’s heart more convincing than it was on the first outing.

Christine is a difficult part to cast, because you need someone who is reasonably believable as an operatic diva, without ever actually singing like a real operatic diva. Sierra Boggess (this cast wins hands-down in the interesting names category) is a lovely singer, but she doesn’t quite work for me, because although she is technically excellent, her voice never sounds like it has real power behind it. She also puts a lot of acting into her singing: nothing intrinsically wrong with that, but Christine Daaé, when she sings, is a blank canvas onto which the Phantom projects his fantasies, so the less expression you give her, the better. But you need a particular type of voice to be able to sing beautifully and expressionlessly, and I’m not sure Sierra Boggess has it.

The surprise star of the show for me was Charlie Manton as the ten-year-old Gustave, who has to do a lot of singing, some of it quite difficult, and who was spot-on throughout and has the voice of an angel, appropriately (SIGNIFICANT LOOK).

So what’s wrong with it? Well, two things: the lyrics and the plot. The first I can forgive on the grounds that it’s not the end of the world: Phantom has some duff lyrics here and there and it’s never spoiled my fun, although there are worse offenders in Love Never Dies. An occasional wince doesn’t bother me. What did bother me was the story, especially its dénouement, which I shan’t spoil but which for me is dramatically all wrong. I thought of a better alternative while I was watching, and given another day or two I could come up with five more, each of which would be smarter and more satisfying than what actually happens. (If you have seen it and would like to know my alternative ending, you can email me and I will tell you it.)

Musicals don’t necessarily need to have much of a story if the songs and the spectacle are good enough, and in Love Never Dies they are. But this does have a story, and the story is a dud.

Still, I enjoyed myself very much and I wouldn’t want to deprive you of the same pleasure by suggesting you don’t go. My personal highlight was the scene where Gustave follows the Phantom back to his rooftop lair and encounters his army of marvellous mechanical monsters, the pair of them duetting over the strains of a gritty, noisy electric guitar backed by a full orchestra. This show is like a film, I thought; and that film is Labyrinth.