SHUCKED

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

★★★★★

“The fun factor is dolloped on as thick as melted butter on crispy corn on the cob”

You can imagine exactly whereabouts in the United States Cob County (the fictional location for the musical comedy “Shucked”) would lie. Somewhere on the border of Arkansas and Oklahoma, where the corn is as high as an elephant’s eye, and the town-folk, dressed like raggedy scarecrows, can’t see beyond the wall of maize that shields the outside world. ‘People don’t leave Cob County’, we are told. Well, hey, if I found myself there, I’d never want to leave either judging by the sheer joy even just two hours in their company can give.

Regents Park Open Air Theatre is the perfect backdrop for this real gem of a musical. A score of catchy tunes; a Prairie-sized dose of charm and compassion; a wagonload of amazeballs song and dance and the corniest jokes you dare to imagine, all roll into town, via Broadway, to give us a night we’re going to remember for quite some time. Robert Horn’s book openly celebrates its own richly flavoured cheesiness by packing it full of puns and punchlines, while Brandy Clark and Shane McAnally’s country-tinged music and lyrics keeps the smile firmly on our faces with their mix of foot-tapping, bluesy reels and soul-stirring ballads. This formula really shouldn’t work. The story is preposterous, the final message unbelievably schmaltzy and some of the jokes as old as the American Outback; yet we are ‘shucked’ into loving it (a hasty qualification needed here – some of the one-liners are, in fact, surprisingly audacious and shockingly risqué, and would mercifully go over the heads of the younger members of the audience).

We are introduced to the Midwestern community by way of Storyteller One and Storyteller Two; Monique Ashe-Palmer and Steven Webb respectively – a joyous pair whose comic timing and flair keep the narrative in check with a rancher’s whip-cracking skill. At the heart of the story is Maizy (Sophie McShera) whose wedding vows to Beau (Ben Joyce) are interrupted by the corn crop suddenly and mysteriously dying. An unsolved mystery – which, in fact, is just a mystery – Webb tells us. Maizy dares to venture beyond the county limits in order to find a solution to the crop failure. She winds up in Tampa, an exaggerated, greeting-card-type metropolis where she meets grifter Gordy (Matthew Seadon-Young), a corn doctor (of course). Gordy is in debt to some not-so-gangsterish gangsters, and he sees in Maizy an opportunity to do some good ole shucking and shake off his creditors. Maizy, on the rebound from breaking off with Beau, is lovestruck, and the two of them head back to Cob County. What follows is a messy mix of misdirected romance, deception, and a full-on, heart-on-sleeve parable about the strength of community, family and belonging, and the triumph of good over bad.

To put it simply, the cast is outstanding. McShera’s Maizy has a real sense of the comedy but layers it with a steely tenderness that refuses to suffer fools. And a voice to match. Joyce’s literal-minded Beau is a delight, seeing the world in black and white but colouring it in with splashes of charisma and slapstick empathy. And a voice to match. His side kick and brother, Peanut – played by the terrific Keith Ramsay – has the burden of the corny jokes but he carries them all with an ease, delivering them with a deadpan hilarity. Meanwhile, Maizy’s cousin, the whisky-brewing, sassy Lulu is a tour de force of a performance in the hands of Georgina Onuorah. And a voice to match (have I said that?). In fact, Onuorah’s voice soars above all else. Seadon-Young is slick as oil as the slippery Gordy wishing he was better at being bad, though his performance couldn’t be better if he tried. Director Jack O’Brien brings out the best in all of them, including the ensemble – highlighting Sarah O’Gleby’s inventive choreography which occasionally verges on the acrobatic – and some perilous use of barrels and planks.

The music worms its way into our ears and takes root. At once familiar in its mix of pop, musical theatre, country and some serious balladeering; but unique enough to sound fresh and lyrically holding its own against the onslaught of wordplay in the book. From the rousing opening number ‘Corn’, through the obligatory ballads (mostly given to McShera); Seadon-Young’s bluesy ‘Bad’ and Onuorah’s showstopping ‘Independently Owned’, the numbers are a delight. This isn’t high art, but the spirit (and the corn) is sky high. An elephant’s eye wouldn’t come close. The fun factor is dolloped on as thick as melted butter on crispy corn on the cob. If it’s possible, this musical is tastier even. Sweeter, cheesier and packed with joy. One taste and you’ll be wanting to go back for more.

SHUCKED

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

Reviewed on 20th May 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Pamela Raith

Previously reviewed at this venue:

FIDDLER ON THE ROOF | ★★★★★ | August 2024

THE SECRET GARDEN | ★★★ | June 2024

THE ENORMOUS CROCODILE | ★★★★ | May 2024

TWELFTH NIGHT | ★★★★★ | May 2024

LA CAGE AUX FOLLES | ★★★★★ | August 2023

ROBIN HOOD: THE LEGEND. RE-WRITTEN | ★★ | June 2023

ONCE ON THIS ISLAND | ★★★★ | May 2023

LEGALLY BLONDE | ★★★ | May 2022

ROMEO AND JULIET | ★★★★ | June 2021

SHUCKED

★★★

“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.

Tag Archives: Katy Richardson

SHUCKED

★★★★★

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

SHUCKED

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

★★★★★

“The fun factor is dolloped on as thick as melted butter on crispy corn on the cob”