MILES
Southwark Playhouse Borough
★★★★
“a heartfelt tribute to one of the greats”
Biographical dramas are not uncommon on the theatre scene, and in the wrong hands they can become quite dull affairs. Oliver Kaderbhai’s exploration of the jazz genius Miles Davies is, without a doubt, in the right hands (in fact co-star Jay Phelps often plays the trumpet with just his right hand, leaving his left to knock out some modular chords on the piano). Kaderbhai doesn’t just pull back the curtain on Miles Davies himself, but he manages to get some way inside his head and convey the creative process of his work – in particular ‘Kind of Blue’ – the 1959 studio album recorded in two sessions with a band of the most acclaimed musicians of the time. With only rough sketches as guidelines, the tracks were laid down in one take. No score – just vague chord structures (this is modal jazz, after all). Almost wholly improvised.
“Miles” retains that improvised feel. But it is intentional, and similarly dazzlingly polished. At its core is an imagined conversation between Miles Davies (Benjamin Akintuyosi) and trumpeter Jay Phelps, but the exchange extends to a tête-à-tête between the man and his music. We are drawn into the life of Davies, reliving the experiences that shaped his art. The racism, segregation, the newfound freedom of Paris. The defiance, the hardships and the battles with addiction.
On entering the space, we feel we are wandering into a basement studio. A grand piano is centre stage, with a reel-to-reel tape recorder. Draped across the piano is a figure, motionless – until the houselights fade, when the resurrections begins. Phelps, who came up with the concept, plays a modern-day jazz musician, struggling to compose an album under pressure from his record company to meet a deadline. Akintuyosi is Miles – not just a ghostly incarnation but a fully-formed mentor and conscience to Phelps. The air is as hazy as Miles’ chain-smoking habit, but the depiction of the characters cuts through like crystal. Akintuyosi perfectly captures the ragged and raspy voice and no-nonsense directness of Miles. “Why are you playing so many notes?” are his first words to Phelps. He guides with a hard hand, but we also see the inner struggles, and the moments of self-doubt that geniuses are often pray to. It is a stylish and stylised performance, demonstrating his physical dexterity too.
Phelps is a virtuoso trumpeter in his own right. He is learning from Miles, but soaks up the same self-doubt. There is no need for his diffidence, we think, as we are treated to his musicianship, playing along to recorded backing tracks of the music from ‘Kind of Blue’. The atmosphere is electric. Alex Lewer’s lighting enhances the mood while Colin J Smith’s video projections introduce other musical giants of the era: Charlie parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Bill Evans, John Coltrane. The story telling is peppered with musical flourishes and stylistic overtones. Peripheral characters are represented by costumes on their hangers; a newborn baby is a puppet in a boxing glove. And the depiction of Miles spiralling into cold turkey is quite shocking, with Akintuyosi clinging onto the piano as it spins out of control. Fragments of his trumpet crash to the floor.
The pieces are left on the ground, but the story is picked up again with renewed energy and an irresistible optimism. As Phelps finds his own voice, the need for Miles fades, yet the legacy is by now firmly embedded. Left alone centre stage, he launches into Thelonious Monk’s ‘Round Midnight’ with a contemporary looped rhythm accompaniment. The mix of the old and the new is mesmerising as the notes float into the air.
Jazz fans will no doubt reap the most satisfaction from this show, but it in no way alienates the wider audience. Everybody who sees it will come away wanting to listen to ‘Kind of Blue’, and then hopefully branch out to discover more of Miles Davies’ output. This isn’t a history lesson; it is a heartfelt tribute to one of the greats.
MILES
Southwark Playhouse Borough
Reviewed on 9th February 2026
by Jonathan Evans
Photography by Colin J Smith
