★★★

“a fun-filled show, packed with bubbly pop numbers and heartfelt performances.”

The net is wide for source material for musicals so an adaptation of a hit manga turned anime feels like a ripe opportunity both for visual delights, and for ticket sales to an existing fan base.

The story is simple and sweet. It follows high schooler Kōsei’s (Zheng Xi Yong) struggle to recapture his musical ability after the loss of his mother. He is helped by his best friend, tomboy Tsubaki (Rachel Clare Chan) and by a mysterious new girl, Kaori (Mia Kobayashi) who is passionate about showing him the power of his talent.

Some aspects of the story’s translation to stage work beautifully – it is a story with music at its core. The show works well to weave in classical pieces, balancing them with Frank Wildhorn’s catchy and fun numbers. Zheng impressively plays a piano which remains ever present on stage. It is a love story of musicians, and a love letter to music.

Adaptation is a battle between what to leave in and what to cut. Rinne B Groff, who wrote the English language book, has made some surprising choices. A number about bike riding comes a bit out it nowhere – though the choreography by director and choreographer Nick Winston shines particularly in this scene. In a relatively short musical, there is less chance to develop story so each scene really counts. The plot unravels slowly, then all at once.

The tangled teenage triangles, united by the power of music are brought to life by Zheng’s believable anguish, Kobayashi’s mesmerising breathy vocals, Chan’s cartoonish enthusiasm and Dean John Wilson’s excellent comic timing. Lucy Park does a surprisingly moving turn as Kōsei’s mother, it’s almost a walk on part but she brings true emotion to it. Theo Oh is adorable, one of three alternating young Kōseis who make the audience audibly coo. Ernest Stroud and Erika Posadas are quiet scene stealers as resentful lesser piano competitors. And Chris Fung smashes the funniest moment in the show.

Playful nods to the manga shimmer (thanks to Rory Beaton’s lighting design) across Japanese screens which surround the set (Justin Williams). A cherry tree and a piano mark opposite ends of the stage. Between that and carved wooden steps, the set anchors the play with a much-needed sense of place. Without it, the show might feel eerily devoid of setting. There is a clean-cut all Americanness to Groff’s dialogue and Miller & Green’s lyrics which make the already contrived situations feel at times laughably silly. This silliness is not helped by everyone being in school uniform (designed beautifully by Kimie Nakano).

For 2024 a show where female characters prop up the main male story, at times risking their own health and wellbeing, does feel a little dated. There’s also a predictability to it, which alienates the drama a little.

However, for a younger audience or fans of this particular genre, this could be a smash hit. The teenager beside me, a fan of the anime, was enraptured to see his favourite characters on stage. Despite a little cheesiness, this is a fun-filled show, packed with bubbly pop numbers and heartfelt performances.

YOUR LIE IN APRIL at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane

★★★★

“Frank Wildhorn’s sumptuous score sweeps through the auditorium with its rousing ballads”

Midway through Act Two of “Your Lie In April” something extraordinary happens. Zheng Xi Yong, as the young musical prodigy Kōsei Arima, places himself at the piano and delivers an impassioned and outstanding solo. A moment during which the music demonstrates its unique power to lift us out of the world that surrounds us. Quite rightly it brings us to our feet as the final chords melt away into a brief silence before the applause. The emotion is heightened in the context of Yong’s character. A child prodigy, Kōsei Amina has a mental breakdown following the death of his mother. Although his hearing is otherwise unaffected, he is no longer able to hear the sound of his own piano.

For years he doesn’t touch the piano. Until he meets Kaori Miyazono, a free-spirited violinist who coaxes him back into playing. Miyazono teaches Arima that it is okay to occasionally deviate from the score; to let the music truly express the emotion rather than to seek the perfection that crippled him and that was instilled in him by his overbearing mother. Rumi Sutton gives us a polished performance as the manic Kaori, concealing her love for Kōsei with a lie that gives the musical its title.

The other shining star in this show is featured violin soloist, Akiko Ishikawa. Spotlit each time she underscores Sutton’s mimed recitals, it is a smart device. No director in their right mind would expect their leading lady to act, sing and play the violin simultaneously. Director and choreographer Nick Winston has eked out fine performances from the couple, mixing splashes of comedy with their story of unrequited love.

It is a fairly simple premise – but perhaps fleshed out too much – based on Naoshi Arakawa’s Manga series of the same name. Frank Wildhorn’s sumptuous score sweeps through the auditorium with its rousing ballads, interspersed with the odd, quirky upbeat number. Wildhorn demonstrates his skill at throwing in the unexpected just at the right moments and just as we think the score might become generic, we are met with some gorgeous modulations and chord changes. Sutton’s voice handles this all with ease and emotional strength.

Jason Howland’s musical arrangements call on an expansive ensemble that, despite yielding rousing choruses, is perhaps unnecessarily large for the show’s material. Likewise, we are offered a subplot that, although necessary for the understanding of the relationships, feels coincidental and secondary. There is a heart wrenching intimacy to the story that gets lost occasionally in the fanfare and flourishes. The detail is in the romance; the friendships and selfless sacrifices, and the broken hearts. And we want to look up close at the human element, rather than from up in the Gods through a wall of sound.

But, with credit to the committed ensemble company, we are still drawn in, and we feel for the protagonists. She, who only reveals her love when it is too late and he, who cannot hear his own music. He learns, however, to listen to it in his heart. We, the audience, are lucky enough to have one up on him. “Your Lie In April” is a musical that touches our hearts, but we also get to savour each and every note delivered with masterful vocals.

Tag Archives: Eu Jin Hwang

YOUR LIE IN APRIL

★★★

Harold Pinter Theatre

YOUR LIE IN APRIL at the Harold Pinter Theatre

★★★

“a fun-filled show, packed with bubbly pop numbers and heartfelt performances.”

YOUR LIE IN APRIL at the Harold Pinter Theatre

Reviewed on 5th July 2024

by Auriol Reddaway

Photography by Craig Sugden

See also:

YOUR LIE IN APRIL | ★★★★ | Theatre Royal Drury Lane | April 2024

YOUR LIE IN APRIL

YOUR LIE IN APRIL

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YOUR LIE IN APRIL

★★★★

Theatre Royal Drury Lane

YOUR LIE IN APRIL at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane

★★★★

“Frank Wildhorn’s sumptuous score sweeps through the auditorium with its rousing ballads”