TWO STRANGERS (CARRY A CAKE ACROSS NEW YORK) at the Kiln Theatre

★★★★★

“Tim Jackson’s lively production never misses a beat, played out on a revolve that circles Soutra Gilmour’s ingenious set”

Given a limited amount of time, would you rather spend it with someone you’ve never met or with someone you may never meet again?

One of the many questions thrown into the air in the captivating new musical, “Two Strangers (Carry a Cake Across New York)”. Dougal (Sam Tutty) is in New York for a whirlwind thirty-six hours. He has arrived for the wedding of his father who abandoned him before he was born. The excitement at the invitation is matched by his puppyish elation at being in The Big Apple. Meeting him at the airport is Robin (Dujonna Gift), the sister of the bride. Her cynicism is as great as his enthusiasm. Do opposites attract? Well – not at first. We might think we are in familiar Romcom territory, but there is plenty of rug-pulling that makes us think again.

Dougal lives in a movie, reliving the technicolour hopes and dreams that spill from the silver screen. ‘Do you know what we’d do now if we were in a movie?’ is his catchphrase. Robin lives in the real world, vaguely haunted by the ghosts of past, present and future. They clash, but with sparks hot enough to weld them together – yet Jim Barne’s and Kit Buchan’s writing is too complex to ensure the customary happy ending, and I’m not about to tell you either.

The opening number; ‘New York!’ is a crowd-pleasing overture, instantly putting a stamp on the two personalities. Sam Tutty’s Dougal is intensely irritating but insanely vulnerable and gorgeous. Tutty can cast a laugh-out-loud one-liner and wrap it around a tear-jerking anecdote with worldly skill. His brash, ingenuous shell is dangerously fragile. Dujonna Gift, as Robin, is the antithesis of the American Dream, and cannot seem to shake off her current nightmare that has arrived in the form of her prospective nephew-in-law.

“For a musical, there is more than enough script, which gives the two actors plenty to chew on, and reveal their formidable acting skills”

They bond, reluctantly, over Robin’s Tinder App during the sensational, staccato musical number, ‘On the App’, which showcases the clever lyrics that run throughout the show. Like many of the songs it is almost rhapsodic in nature, blending styles like a confectioner would concoct the most delicious flavours. Jim Barne’s score cannot be separated from the book and lyrics (credited to both Kit Buchan, and Barne). They brilliantly mix the old and the new, the traditional and the urban, classic and modern, the sweet and the sour. ‘Under the Mistletoe’ is a gorgeous parody of the seasonal hit that we all pretend to frown upon yet secretly love. It rises above pastiche though, sending up its source with a glowing affection that will ensure the song’s place in everyone’s festive playlist.

There are too many standout numbers. ‘The Argument’, sparse and rhythmic, delivered with precision timing by Gift and Tutty is both timeless and progressive, blurred by the doubt and confusion of too much liquor yet with a sharpness that cuts open a bitter and heartrending reveal. It is the performances of Tutty and Gift that propel the show as much as the score. For a musical, there is more than enough script, which gives the two actors plenty to chew on, and reveal their formidable acting skills. Their range, which can rake up many emotions, matches their vocal versatility. Through them, too, we get a three-dimensional portrayal of the off-stage characters and a glorious insight into the relationships.

Tim Jackson’s lively production never misses a beat, played out on a revolve that circles Soutra Gilmour’s ingenious set of piles of greyed-out suitcases that open and close to reveal the various locations, props, and the surprises and secrets of our protagonists. These characters have many shades, reflected and amplified by Jack Knowles’ moody, sensitive and innovative lighting.

“Two Strangers…” is the perfect Christmas tale. Part dream. Part movie. Part fairy-tale. And, of course, the obligatory snowfall during its finale. The opening number, ‘New York!’, is reprised, shifting from the major to the minor. Tender, plaintive and haunting now, but with a rising crescendo that reassures us all. We have cried. But we have laughed too. Hope springs eternal.