★★★½

“entertaining, occasionally dazzling, yet frustratingly uneven”

Disney’s Hercules launches onto the West End stage in splashy, scattershot style that embraces camp and colour, but can’t quite decide who it’s playing to. With a book by Kwame Kwei-Armah, recently departed Artistic Director of the Young Vic, and Robert Horn, expectations were high for the stage adaptation of Disney’s 1997 animated film. However, perhaps through limited fault of Kwei-Armah, who it seems merely adapted the book from a 2019 Off-Broadway version by Kristoffer Diaz, we get something that leans more towards panto – jokes often too juvenile for adults, yet strangely pitched above younger children.

Tonally, it’s a mixed bag throughout. Some of the new songs fail to land, despite being written by the original duo of Alan Menken (Music) and David Zippel (Lyrics). Hercules’ introductory number Today’s Gonna Be My Day, feels more like a filler from Dick Whittington than a compelling character launch, particularly in the staging, with a plethora of dancers filling the market, ducking and diving to avoid Herc’s slapstick clumsiness. Yet redemption comes swiftly with Go the Distance, delivered by Luke Brady with gravitas and control, even if the new vocal arrangement takes a little adjusting to for die-hard fans.

The costumes and puppetry are visually dazzling – though the latter is perhaps less effectual than Disney’s longest running theatrical hit The Lion King. The gods shimmer in outrageous gold, Hades’ cape swishes with villainous flair, and the muses – a consistent highlight – sparkle in their many gorgeous gowns with elegance and verve. Wig and hair designer Mia M Neal deserves special mention: her sculptural braids-turned-hats are a feat of fabulous imagination. The muse’s gospel numbers, harmonically tight and delivered with electric charm by Sharlene Hector, Brianna Ogunbawo, Malinda Parris and Robyn Rose-Li, are the show’s undisputed high points.

At its best, the set is magnetic – keeping you guessing with how seemingly magical effects are delivered. To represent the souls trapped in the underworld for eternity, gauze drapes swirl heavenward, then collapse back down, creating a hypnotic rhythm that’s almost balletic. Meanwhile, the rest of Hades’ underworld has a steampunk vibe, complete with minions and an inexplicable tap number (Getting Even) that adds nothing but confusion.

Despite the tonal inconsistencies, the cast commits entirely. Mae Ann Jorolan’s Megara is a standout – smoky-voiced, sardonic, and emotionally resonant. Her interpretation of I Won’t Say (I’m in Love) with the muses is every bit as affecting as fans would hope. And in one of the more successful additions, Forget About It, a flirtatious first encounter between Meg and Herc, brings welcome depth to their dynamic, balancing her independence against his oblivious infatuation.

Ultimately, Hercules the Musical is entertaining, occasionally dazzling, yet frustratingly uneven. Casey Nicholaw’s direction keeps the show visually fluid, if not always tonally consistent. It’s at its best when it is faithful to the original film and lets the muses lead the charge. If the creative team can tone down some of the more broad humour, there’s a sharper, smarter version of this show waiting to be revealed.

QUADROPHENIA, A MOD BALLET

Sadler’s Wells Theatre

★★★★★

“A truly triumphant interpretation – poignant and powerful.”

When Pete Townshend wrote the rock opera “Quadrophenia”, released back in 1973, he felt that The Who, as a band, was ‘lost’ and that the whole process of recording the double album ‘helped us find our way’ (his words). The central character is partly a reflection of this, but also a brilliant description – and representation – of the mid 1960s as seen through the eyes of a young man searching for meaning in a world filled with disillusionment. It has become a rock opera, a film and a classical opera. Now, as a ballet over half a century later, it maintains its relevance without the slightest hint of modernising it aesthetically or culturally. We are fully immersed, not just in pure nostalgia, but also the sheer beauty of the performances, the backdrop and the cinematic orchestral arrangements of the music.

Opening with crashing waves against a solitary rock, we see Jimmy alone on the outcrop, swiftly joined by his four personalities who move like the waves – like sirens luring him into the waters below. But Jimmy chooses the route back to his dissatisfied life. Paris Fitzpatrick is extraordinary as the young mod, Jimmy, barely away from the vast stage for a second, leading us and the other dancers through the tempestuous twists of his journey. The performers need little guidance, however. Each one is a leader in their own right: the Tough Guy, the Romantic or the Hypocrite; the Godfather, the Ace Face, the Mod Girl, the Rocker. Or the shell-shocked parent. Directed by Rob Ashford, every step is meticulously clear while Yeastculture.org’s panoramic video projections seamlessly carry us from place to place on Christopher Oram’s simple yet fluid set.

Steeped in symbolism, the emotional impact is compelling. We are constantly distracted from intellectual appreciation. The characterisation is as integral as the virtuosity of the dancers. When Fitzpatrick’s Jimmy meets his childhood friend (Euan Garrett), now a Rocker, the couple’s inner conflicts are vividly evoked in every movement. Paul Roberts’ choreography throughout is at once original and recognisable, athletic and intimate, violent and tender. It refuses categorisation; ballet moves swaying into jazz, contemporary, a touch of street. The impurity is vital to Roberts’ telling of the story. Jimmy’s parents, and his relationship with them, only need a few dance steps to give us the full picture. Stuart Neal and Kate Tydman – as the father and mother – attract and repel in gorgeous tarantellas, erotic and violent, bleeding into the Father’s traumatic memories of WWII (a disturbing yet perfectly glorious ensemble routine).

And, of course, we have the love interest: Serena McCall’s Mod Girl, sassy and sexy, moving within and without the yearning reach of our ‘quadrophenic’ protagonist. The charismatic rival, the Ace Face, is a constant threat – a swaggering and commanding Dan Baines, while Matthew Ball’s rock star figure, the Godfather, is a stark reminder to Jimmy never to meet your idol. A self-deprecating moment deliberately referencing The Who’s status in the seventies that has survived intact to the present day. This attention to detail surfaces in waves of nostalgia, that some may not fully appreciate. You have to be a true Londoner to feel the full dewy-eyed force of designer Oram’s recreation of Soho’s ‘New Piccadilly Café’. Authenticity is a keyword here, which is certainly amplified by Paul Smith’s sharp costumes.

The driving force is the music, orchestrated by Rachel Fuller (and Martin Batchelar). Faithful to Townshend’s original rock numbers, Fuller has scored the music for a full symphony orchestra. The electric rock rhythms of guitars and bass occasionally burst through, but elsewhere the vocal melodies and guitar solos are searing violins, aching cellos, rich double-basses or horn sections. Entirely instrumental, you can still at times hear Roger Daltrey’s voice surfing the multi-layered melody lines. Like the dancing, it is grand but far from precious. With both you could just as easily be in the Albert Hall or the sweaty dark of Wardour Street’s Marquee Club. Another landmark sadly gone. “Quadrophenia” harks back to another time that some say is long dead, but this ballet drags it alive and kicking into the present. It resonates unmistakably without any concession to the twenty-first century. It doesn’t need it. The essence is all there – in the dance and in the music.

When ‘Quadrophenia’ was first released, Pete Townshend probably had no idea of its legacy. Although he has since stated that The Who ‘never recorded anything so ambitious or audacious again’. “Quadrophenia: A Mod Ballet” is just as (maybe even more so) ambitious and audacious, even by today’s standards. A truly triumphant interpretation – poignant and powerful.

HERCULES

Theatre Royal Drury Lane

★★★½

“entertaining, occasionally dazzling, yet frustratingly uneven”

HERCULES

Theatre Royal Drury Lane

Reviewed on 25th June 2025

by Amber Woodward

Photography by Johan Persson © Disney

Previously reviewed at this venue:

HERCULES

HERCULES

HERCULES

QUADROPHENIA, A MOD BALLET

Sadler’s Wells Theatre

★★★★★

“A truly triumphant interpretation – poignant and powerful.”