DARK OF THE MOON

Charing Cross Theatre

★★★

“a neat little fable, with a good deal of darkness within”

The source material for the new musical, “Dark of the Moon”, goes back a long way. Originally billed as a ‘legend with music’ it opened on Broadway in 1945. That, in turn, was loosely based on English/Scottish folklore of the mid seventeenth century. ‘The Ballad of Barbara Allen’ was taken over to America by the earliest pioneers and gained the status of being one of America’s best-known ballads; some say laying the bedrock that bluegrass music was based on. The current version of the story has made its way into a new musical – with a book by Jonathan Prince and music and lyrics by Lindy Robbins, Dave Bassett and Steve Robson – that allegedly builds on that bluegrass foundation. Although the mix is dominated by contemporary rock music, a touch of Southern Gothic and a whole witches’ brew of Musical Theatre tropes. And, of course, ballads.

Indeed, it opens with a balladeer. Kiah Lindsay bookends the show with her mandolin and gift for storytelling. But in between, tradition gets swept aside for more homogenous crowd pleasers with predictable orchestrations. Lindsay’s words cut through the sparseness, whereas elsewhere the lyrics are often lost in the over-produced numbers, despite the belting form that the two leads are renowned for. John (Glenn Adamson) is a non-human, ‘witch’ creature who lives in eternity amongst his coven in the Appalachian Mountains. Barbara Allen (Lauren Jones) lives in the fictional, God-fearing town of Buck Creek. Both are misfits in their own communities. Having fallen in love with Barbara, John desperately wants to cross over to the human world but, of course, there are conditions. He has a year to prove the match is worthwhile. Otherwise, he is condemned to return to his life as an immortal witch. Barbara must remain faithful to John in that time. That sounds like no big deal, except that all the witches are convinced that Barbara isn’t up to the task – given her past promiscuity. Or so we are led to believe. There is no hint whatsoever of this in her characterisation.

Characterisation is, in fact, thin on the ground. Prince’s book churns out dialogue that drifts in a no-man’s-land somewhere between high school romcom and scary movie. The lyrics, when they are heard, follow suit like impressionable wannabes. The Faustian deal is struck, but the stakes are never high. Being human is heartbreaking. We learn this from a recurring message, delivered either through song or platitude. The staging, nevertheless, is well executed. Director Georgie Rankcom mixes the two worlds distinctively, letting them overlap and collide with force. Jonathan Chan’s lighting reinforces the disparity of these worlds, and a committed cast belt out fine vocals that complement the lush visuals of the show. But the heart is bland. Small town vigilantism and intolerance are explored as much as the supernatural, and a couple of dubious subplots attempt to subvert the predictability. John asks what it takes to be a man. Barbara justifies infidelity in the cause of saving her man. There is a twist, however, courtesy of our balladeer, that is a welcome diversion.

While the musical numbers follow a safe formula throughout, the second act fares better in terms of narrative flow. It’s a neat little fable, with a good deal of darkness within. This production doesn’t plumb the depths, but it does seem to have fun on its shallow surface. There is a Glam Rock versus Hillbilly duel going on, and the devil has all the best tunes, as usual. There are moments of magic but, unlike the protagonists, you won’t be spellbound.

DARK OF THE MOON

Charing Cross Theatre

Reviewed on 26th May 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Tom Bowles

DARK OF THE MOON

DARK OF THE MOON

DARK OF THE MOON