SHUCKED

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

★★★★★

“The fun factor is dolloped on as thick as melted butter on crispy corn on the cob”

You can imagine exactly whereabouts in the United States Cob County (the fictional location for the musical comedy “Shucked”) would lie. Somewhere on the border of Arkansas and Oklahoma, where the corn is as high as an elephant’s eye, and the town-folk, dressed like raggedy scarecrows, can’t see beyond the wall of maize that shields the outside world. ‘People don’t leave Cob County’, we are told. Well, hey, if I found myself there, I’d never want to leave either judging by the sheer joy even just two hours in their company can give.

Regents Park Open Air Theatre is the perfect backdrop for this real gem of a musical. A score of catchy tunes; a Prairie-sized dose of charm and compassion; a wagonload of amazeballs song and dance and the corniest jokes you dare to imagine, all roll into town, via Broadway, to give us a night we’re going to remember for quite some time. Robert Horn’s book openly celebrates its own richly flavoured cheesiness by packing it full of puns and punchlines, while Brandy Clark and Shane McAnally’s country-tinged music and lyrics keeps the smile firmly on our faces with their mix of foot-tapping, bluesy reels and soul-stirring ballads. This formula really shouldn’t work. The story is preposterous, the final message unbelievably schmaltzy and some of the jokes as old as the American Outback; yet we are ‘shucked’ into loving it (a hasty qualification needed here – some of the one-liners are, in fact, surprisingly audacious and shockingly risqué, and would mercifully go over the heads of the younger members of the audience).

We are introduced to the Midwestern community by way of Storyteller One and Storyteller Two; Monique Ashe-Palmer and Steven Webb respectively – a joyous pair whose comic timing and flair keep the narrative in check with a rancher’s whip-cracking skill. At the heart of the story is Maizy (Sophie McShera) whose wedding vows to Beau (Ben Joyce) are interrupted by the corn crop suddenly and mysteriously dying. An unsolved mystery – which, in fact, is just a mystery – Webb tells us. Maizy dares to venture beyond the county limits in order to find a solution to the crop failure. She winds up in Tampa, an exaggerated, greeting-card-type metropolis where she meets grifter Gordy (Matthew Seadon-Young), a corn doctor (of course). Gordy is in debt to some not-so-gangsterish gangsters, and he sees in Maizy an opportunity to do some good ole shucking and shake off his creditors. Maizy, on the rebound from breaking off with Beau, is lovestruck, and the two of them head back to Cob County. What follows is a messy mix of misdirected romance, deception, and a full-on, heart-on-sleeve parable about the strength of community, family and belonging, and the triumph of good over bad.

To put it simply, the cast is outstanding. McShera’s Maizy has a real sense of the comedy but layers it with a steely tenderness that refuses to suffer fools. And a voice to match. Joyce’s literal-minded Beau is a delight, seeing the world in black and white but colouring it in with splashes of charisma and slapstick empathy. And a voice to match. His side kick and brother, Peanut – played by the terrific Keith Ramsay – has the burden of the corny jokes but he carries them all with an ease, delivering them with a deadpan hilarity. Meanwhile, Maizy’s cousin, the whisky-brewing, sassy Lulu is a tour de force of a performance in the hands of Georgina Onuorah. And a voice to match (have I said that?). In fact, Onuorah’s voice soars above all else. Seadon-Young is slick as oil as the slippery Gordy wishing he was better at being bad, though his performance couldn’t be better if he tried. Director Jack O’Brien brings out the best in all of them, including the ensemble – highlighting Sarah O’Gleby’s inventive choreography which occasionally verges on the acrobatic – and some perilous use of barrels and planks.

The music worms its way into our ears and takes root. At once familiar in its mix of pop, musical theatre, country and some serious balladeering; but unique enough to sound fresh and lyrically holding its own against the onslaught of wordplay in the book. From the rousing opening number ‘Corn’, through the obligatory ballads (mostly given to McShera); Seadon-Young’s bluesy ‘Bad’ and Onuorah’s showstopping ‘Independently Owned’, the numbers are a delight. This isn’t high art, but the spirit (and the corn) is sky high. An elephant’s eye wouldn’t come close. The fun factor is dolloped on as thick as melted butter on crispy corn on the cob. If it’s possible, this musical is tastier even. Sweeter, cheesier and packed with joy. One taste and you’ll be wanting to go back for more.

SHUCKED

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

Reviewed on 20th May 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Pamela Raith

Previously reviewed at this venue:

FIDDLER ON THE ROOF | ★★★★★ | August 2024

THE SECRET GARDEN | ★★★ | June 2024

THE ENORMOUS CROCODILE | ★★★★ | May 2024

TWELFTH NIGHT | ★★★★★ | May 2024

LA CAGE AUX FOLLES | ★★★★★ | August 2023

ROBIN HOOD: THE LEGEND. RE-WRITTEN | ★★ | June 2023

ONCE ON THIS ISLAND | ★★★★ | May 2023

LEGALLY BLONDE | ★★★ | May 2022

ROMEO AND JULIET | ★★★★ | June 2021

SHUCKED

★★★★

“Seager and White give astonishingly convincing performances, both fearless in displaying emotions most of us would like to keep buried”

A little bit of trivia: “Fly Me to the Moon”, the popular standard made famous by Frank Sinatra in the 1960s, was originally titled “In Other Words”. In turn, the refrain has been fittingly adopted as the title for Matthew Seager’s play, which is as far away from ‘trivia’ as can be imagined. While the song may be bland melodic wallpaper in many people’s lives, this production tears it apart to reveal the bare bricks of the shattered lives of a married couple. The song brought Arthur and Jane together, and in their later years, it becomes the sole, delicate anchor that makes life bearable as they cope with the effects of Arthur’s Alzheimer’s.

Arthur (Seager) meets Jane (Lydia White) at a bar. He spills red wine down her white blouse. Not a great start but by the end of the evening they have enjoyed their first kiss. We are told this in flashback, then shown it in real time, and back again. The milestones of their relationship are dished up like a kind of memory game. Seager’s supple writing, enhanced by Andy Routledge’s sharp staging, play with the chronology – making time as unreliable and fragmented as the protagonist’s mind. Our emotions are similarly tugged in opposing directions. One moment we are disturbed and unsettled, the next we are thrown a line that wrenches a guilty laugh from our hearts. But most of the time our heart is breaking. Or melting. Seager and White give astonishingly convincing performances, both fearless in displaying emotions most of us would like to keep buried.

From that first kiss we are guided towards the teasing, middle years of a conventional love story. ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ has become a leitmotif used to defuse arguments. The couple talk to the audience as much as to each other, making us accomplices as well as witnesses to their story. The first indications of Arthur’s dementia are a fleeting shadow in the corner of the eye. He goes out to buy milk but forgets what he’s gone for by the time he reaches the shop. We’ve all done it, as Jane points out, and they both initially brush it aside. White’s portrayal of the guilt at not seeing the signs early enough is authentically heartbreaking. They both cover it up until it is too late. Seager’s later mood swings are brutally believable, and we are no longer merely onlookers as Iida Hägglund’s echoing sound design and Will Alder’s flashing lights draw us right into Arthur’s mind.

The inevitable cannot be avoided, and the poignancy with which the actors take us there is unsettlingly real; fear, denial, paranoia, anger and ultimately acceptance all having their moment to shine. Listening to, and enjoying music, is a universal experience that even the most damaged minds are not excluded from. Arthur and Jane discover the healing and comforting effects of their shared song. It is a sedative, yet it also awakens past memories which adds further comfort to the unhealing wounds. While the play shows us the effects, it rarely digs much deeper. Emotion is all, and insight takes a back seat. We are denied any real explanation – but ultimately, being spared the science becomes one of the show’s strengths. We do have, however, a vague questioning of the purpose of the piece. Despite the force of its ability to inform, entertain and uplift, we are still left with a sense of hopelessness.

Originally staged at the Hope Theatre in 2017, the play has since been translated into French by Thierry Lopez and Marie-Julie Baup (“Oublie Moi”) and has since been a fixture in Parisian theatres, winning four Molière awards. Being brought back to its London roots in the simple yet effective setting of the Arcola reminds us of the power of fringe theatre. We are gripped throughout by the pair’s outstanding portrayal. While all else sinks and disappears into the illness, we are left with the crackle of Frank Sinatra’s voice heard through Arthur’s earphones, and as Jane watches on, helplessly yet adoringly it is a heart-rending moment. Seager has taken on a delicate topic but is unafraid to handle it with an honesty that breaks it apart to reveal the heart of the matter.

‘In other words, please be true’ croons Ol’ Blue Eyes. This play certainly answers his plea. A truly evocative piece of theatre.

SHUCKED

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

★★★★★

“The fun factor is dolloped on as thick as melted butter on crispy corn on the cob”

SHUCKED

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

Reviewed on 20th May 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Pamela Raith

Previously reviewed at this venue:

SHUCKED

SHUCKED

SHUCKED

IN OTHER WORDS

Arcola Theatre

★★★★

“Seager and White give astonishingly convincing performances, both fearless in displaying emotions most of us would like to keep buried”

IN OTHER WORDS

Arcola Theatre

Reviewed on 19th May 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Tom Dixon

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:

IN OTHER WORDS

IN OTHER WORDS

IN OTHER WORDS

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