★★½

“has warmth and energy but is held back by its uneven tone and sketchy characterisation”

Community, chaos and catchy tunes collide in Choir, though not always in harmony. Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti’s new comedy with music, directed by Hannah Joss, aims to be a feel-good celebration of connection and belonging but delivers an uneven evening populated by characters who often feel one-dimensional and overly caricatured.

At the centre is Morgan (Laura Checkley), who runs a small-town community choir in a pub’s upstairs room. They meet weekly to rehearse pop songs, drink and find space to be versions of themselves beyond their regular lives. The play follows the week leading up to a fundraising gig, which takes an unexpected turn when a TV producer offers the choir a chance to perform on national television, an opportunity Morgan seizes to put them on the map.

Morgan’s own description of her singers as having “seven different personalities” is telling. Everyone is different, with lives beyond the choir: Paul (James Gillan), a former West End performer now reduced to local radio voiceovers; Anna (Danusia Samal), whose composed exterior masks private struggles; Ken (Timothy Speyer), a sunny optimist despite a track record of underachievement; Esther (Danielle Henry) and Joy (Alison Fitzjohn), “best friends” whose relationship thrives on constant point-scoring; and Sheila (Annie Wensak), a compulsive liar whose fabrications are delivered with unapologetic flair. Late to the mix is Freddie (Keenan Munn-Francis), the young talent they’re fundraising for, whose arrival shifts the dynamic and unsettles the group. In theory, this variety could be a strength; in practice, the characters remain underdeveloped and the personal revelations feel more engineered than earned.

The show alternates between rehearsal scenes, where the singing is deliberately off-key or hesitant (well executed as such) and fantasy sequences where the choir sounds polished and professional. This framing device gives the performers the chance to shine vocally: Gillan’s soaring rendition of Queen’s Somebody to Love, Samal’s smoky take on Amy Winehouse’s Back to Black and Munn-Francis’s heartfelt Nothing Compares 2 U are standout moments.

Alison Fitzjohn and Annie Wensak share most of the comic thunder, though in very different styles – Fitzjohn with dry, deadpan barbs and Wensak delivering audacious one-liners and scene-stealing entrances. Danielle Henry as Esther adds a quieter, sharper presence, blending vulnerability with subtle tension in her friendship with Joy. Laura Checkley’s Morgan, while central, feels somewhat one-note, limiting the character’s emotional arc. Though the cast’s comic timing is strong, performances often lean toward broad stereotypes rather than nuance. Speyer (Ken), Gillan (Paul) and Munn-Francis (Freddie) carry the most sustained emotional beats, but the delivery often follows the rhythm of scripted dialogue rather than the natural ebb and flow of genuine conversation, a reflection of Bhatti’s script, which hints at something more meaningful but too often resorts to easy laughs and predictable plot turns. Joss, in her directorial debut, maintains pace but doesn’t fully bridge these divides or allow character arcs to develop.

Designer Anisha Fields’ pub function room set is exactly what you’d expect, transforming into a neon-lit diva stage for the fantasy sequences – a shift echoed by Jai Morjaria’s lighting moving from pub warmth to spotlight glamour. Fields also designs the costumes, which convincingly reflect the characters’ personalities and add an extra layer of texture and comedy to the production. Alexandra Faye Braithwaite’s sound design and Rich Forbes’ arrangements, supported by Musical Director Michael Henry, inject vitality into the music. These pop moments lift the atmosphere, suggesting what Choir might achieve if the writing matched its musical flair.

Choir has warmth and energy but is held back by its uneven tone and sketchy characterisation. The cast brings commitment and charm, hinting at stories the script never fully explores. Ultimately, it feels like a choir warming up – full of promise, but not yet in harmony.

EVERY BRILLIANT THING

@Sohoplace

★★★★★

“The contrast between melancholy and hilarity is the essence of the production’s potency”

They are the most dreaded two words in the English language after perhaps “world war” and “admin fee”.

Audience participation.

Eek.

But don’t worry, in this atmosphere of non-judgmental glee, you’re in safe hands. The host is the genial Lenny Henry, comedy legend and close personal friend, or so it always seems.

This is vital. Because volunteers relax, lean in and Henry creates an atmosphere of ramshackle fun.

And, besides, mostly the guests are pre-selected. In a wonderful innovation, the star wanders around pre-show, chatting, meeting the audience and selecting his co-stars based on decades of experience reading an audience.

The worldwide phenomenon that is Every Brilliant Thing began life in 2006 as a short monologue Duncan Macmillan wrote for actor Rosie Thomson. Co-director George Perrin encouraged him to expand it, and the pair gathered hundreds of “brilliant things” from a Facebook group. Comedian Jonny Donahoe later pioneered its interactive style – he takes over from Henry later in August.

It premiered in its full form at the 2014 Edinburgh Festival Fringe before transferring internationally to over 80 countries. While the events in the play sound autobiographical, they are crowdsourced. They draw on genuine experiences, research, and real audience contributions, so that’s why it feels so authentic. It’s not true and gob-smackingly true at the same time.

Audience members play parts large and small: his girlfriend, his father, the librarian (with sock puppet Graham). Their real-life sincerity dealing with the character’s woes melts hearts. Others, dotted around the auditorium, read out cue cards of “every brilliant thing” when their list number is read out.

The narrative begins on 9 November 1965, when our character, aged seven, finds himself in hospital because his mother, a chronic depressive, has tried to kill herself. His artless solution is to write a list of every brilliant thing that might persuade his mum to stay on this earth.

“One…” calls out Lenny Henry.

“Ice cream,” says a man reading from his cue card.

And so on…

His mother survives but does not shake off her illness and over decades the list grows from the original target of 1,000 to one million.

The character’s own life is a simple story of growing up, moving away, meeting a girl and living with the legacy of a suicidal mother while coping with the illness himself.

It is part lecture on mental health, part improv night, part alchemic magic show. Henry creates such a remarkable sense of supportive goodwill that when he announces he – a shy lad – has kissed a girl, the audience whoops, as though their BFF has just made the revelation on the group chat.

Lenny Henry plays this part for now. Others take over in the run, including Minnie Driver and Sue Perkins. Wonderful though they will likely be, it will be a challenge to top Henry’s masterful control. He has to act, yes, but also direct a troupe of amateurs. From this, there is random blundering and Henry’s improv instincts and natural charm let him ramp up the fun exponentially.

The contrast between melancholy and hilarity is the essence of the production’s potency. Laughter through tears: the sweet spot of teachable moments.

Tag Archives: Helen Murray

CHOIR

★★½

Minerva Theatre

CHOIR

Minerva Theatre

★★½

“has warmth and energy but is held back by its uneven tone and sketchy characterisation”

CHOIR

Minerva Theatre

Reviewed on 8th August 2025

by Ellen Cheshire

Photography by Helen Murray

Previous Chichester Festival reviews:

TOP HAT | ★★★★ | July 2025

THE GOVERNMENT INSPECTOR | ★★★★ | May 2025

REDLANDS | ★★★★ | September 2024

CHOIR

CHOIR

CHOIR

EVERY BRILLIANT THING

★★★★★

Sohoplace

EVERY BRILLIANT THING

@Sohoplace

★★★★★

“The contrast between melancholy and hilarity is the essence of the production’s potency”