SINATRA THE MUSICAL
Gala Performance in aid of Nordoff & Robbins at theĀ Aldwych Theatre
ā ā ā ā ā
“He has the cheeky swagger, style and confidence that captures Sinatra in a nutshell; with a voice to match”
In 1945, Frank Sinatra said in an interview that āI wish I had learnt how to read musicā. He could follow a simple lead sheet, and by tracking the patterns of notes on the page he made his own notations to the music. Far from inhibiting his career, this gave him a deep understanding ā a sixth sense that carried him through more than sixty years of his professional life. Olā Blue Eyes could do no wrong. But there was a time in the late nineteen-forties when he hit a low point, personally and professionally, and as his reputation plummeted, his career ā and indeed his life – almost came to a grinding halt. It is this period that is the basis of Joe DiPietroās āSinatra the Musicalā, rounding off with his dramatic comeback during the early part of the fifties. It is an extraordinarily smart snapshot of his life, eschewing the urge to trawl through a ācradle-to-graveā bio musical. As a result, the emotional depth is enhanced, and by showing less we get a clearer picture of who Sinatra was.
But it is also down to the performances. Having opened in the West End in June of this year, we are at a special gala performance in aid of the music therapy charity, Nordoff and Robbins. Without fanfare (in fact, with an almost secretive lack of announcement), ensemble player and understudy Sam Brown steps into Frankieās āvagabond shoesā to take the lead in this performance. From the moment Brown takes to the stage we know a star is born. In his tailored suit, jauntily tilted fedora and loosened tie, he has the cheeky swagger, style and confidence that captures Sinatra in a nutshell; with a voice to match.
Nevertheless, the musical is not merely a jukebox musical, nor a tribute act. Tina Sinatra ā Frankās youngest daughter ā has kept her hands in the development, making sure the story tells the truth: warts and all. We begin at Paramount Studio, when Frank seemed to have it all. The adoring fans, a devoted wife and a burgeoning movie career. āThatās Allā croons Brown as the domesticity of his Hoboken kitchen slides away into a starlit sky. His wife, Nancy (a terrific Phoebe Panaretos), stays at home while Sinatra is on the West Coast, bed-hopping between verses of āCome Fly with Meā with the likes of Lana Turner, Judy Garland and Marlene Dietrich. His alleged mobster connections are touched upon as rumours spread about how he got himself out of difficult contracts. But much of the narrative zooms in on the love affair of his life with Ava Gardner, who truly got under his skin and never really left. The Nancy-Frank-Ava love-triangle bristles with emotion. Panaretos is a naturally strong Nancy Sinatra, unafraid to carry through her ultimatums even while her heart is breaking. Ana VillafaƱe is a smouldering fire as Gardner, whose flames donāt always melt her icy and pragmatic core. When Brown takes the tempo down for āIāve Got You Under My Skinā, Panaretos mournfully sings āIn the Wee Small Hours of the Morningā, with VillafaƱeās countermelody of āIām a Fool to Want Youā. As the songs overlap, they merge into one climactic crescendo.
Director and choreographer Kathleen Marshall should have brought the curtain down for interval at that very point, but a few further biographical snippets are thrown into the story first. But otherwise, the staging (with set design by Peter McKintosh, lighting by Bruno Poet, sound by Jonathan Deans and costume by Jon Morrell) is meticulous and as smooth as Sinatraās warm and rich tenor. With a seventeen-piece orchestra we have the full range from ballad to big band, and all the swing in between. Over twenty songs, arranged by Gareth Valentine and Ian Eisendrath, are plucked from the immense repertoire to best tell the story, none of them feeling as though shoe horned in. The first act closes with āThatās Lifeā, the irony not missed as Sinatra finds himself dropped by MGM, without a record contract and Ava Gardner āneeding spaceā. Even his agent quits (momentarily). Brown waits until we are back in our seats after interval to tell us he has always done it āMy Wayā. Regrets ā heās had a few; of course he has. But his resilience inherited from his Italian immigrant parents pulls him through. Marty Maguire is terrific as his father, Marty Sinatra. Silent and strong and wonderfully funny. Jenna Russell steals each scene she is in with her starry performance as Dolly Sinatra, the loving mother with the iron fist. Lee Zarrett, as Sinatraās long-suffering agent, has a gift for comic timing and throwaway lines. And every cast memberās voice is crystal clear, steeped in emotion and pitch perfect. As marriage follows divorce and highs follow lows, the voices follow the cadences, lilts and inflections in perfect harmony. āOne for My Babyā, a stirring, sultry duet performed by Brown and Melissa Nettlefordās sassy Billie Holiday gives way to the meticulously authentic upbeat tempo of Nat King Coleās āStraighten Up and Fly Rightā (Oliver Adam-Reynolds is a dead ringer for Cole). The bit parts are just as important as the leads in this musical. Marshallās choreography lets the ensemble sweep across the stage while their voices create the inimitable Golden Age chorale sound.
The narrative never probes too deep nor delves too far into the darkness. But the balance of music, dialogue and backstory is as satisfying as the mix of poignancy, comedy and information. Larry Blankās orchestrations incite swoons as Brown croons. The whole evening is an absolute joy. Get dressed up, have a martini and go see āSinatra the Musicalā. Olā Blue Eyes is back!
SINATRA THE MUSICAL
Gala Performance in aid of Nordoff & Robbins
Aldwych Theatre
Reviewed on 15th October 2026
by Jonathan Evans
Photography by Brinkhoff Moegenburg
