Review: TRAINSPOTTING THE MUSICAL at Theatre Royal Haymarket

As a reviewer, it is always imperative to keep an open mind, even when one's eyes involuntarily roll on hearing pitches for working titles like Florence — The Nightingale of the Crimea (gawd 'elp us)! There was a fair bit of commentary in theatre critic circles when TRAINSPOTTING THE MUSICAL was first announced. It instantly assumed the expectant potential for proving groundbreakingly gutsy and filled with Glasgow grime, or fundamentally a bad idea which should have been terminated like an unwanted pregnancy. Turning a cutting-edge, cult classic, into "a show with tunes" was always tinged with danger and while the results aren't exactly an abortion, they are decidedly mixed.

More than anything, I left the theatre wondering who exactly the production was aimed at. Lovers of the book and the film perhaps? In truth I suspect many of that group who venture to witness the stage spectacle, will have opinions ranging somewhere from marginally disappointed, to downright appalled.

In director Caroline Jay Ranger's production, the cast certainly do all they can to infuse proceedings with youthful oomph and swagger but the pacy ups and downs of the movie version with its scorching soundtrack, here feel laboured and flabby. Matters aren't helped by the video projections atop the largely awful set design. Many banging tunes from the film find their way into proceedings together with others created by Welsh with collaborator Stephen McGuinness, but they are lost amid the morass of misery, drug-taking and aggression. Consequently, we never get to muster a fig about any of the characters, or find ourselves rooting for their glorious escape from the heroin tenements and chronic unemployment.

Lewis Kidd plays our boisterous narrator Renton (after Robbie Scott was injured during rehearsals). He delivers the part with a boyish and crotch-grabbing confidence, but along with his cast mates there is realistically very little opportunity for conveying genuine depth. Those performers who deliver a character with a single stand-out song, grab their moments as though exacting compensation rather than making their contribution to a meaningful whole. Kieran Andrew as Spud gets the most out of his chem-fuelled, jittery moment at an interview situation, together with the famous gag scene in which he clutches his still moist, soiled bed sheets, but they feel tagged-on, serving merely as unsubtle nods to the movie and recognisable crowd-pleasers rather than anything integral or substantial to the narrative.

Rosie Dignan as Allison has a crack (pun intended) at pathos, and in general the female cast members are assigned the reflective and more meaningful moments — such as they are. Then we are away with the fairies and a bizarre line dancing sequence which feels parachuted-in from Coyote Ugly or Footloose. The moment proves entirely indicative of the overall disjointedness.

Go if you must, but don't say you weren't warned.

Trainspotting The Musical Tickets