Book: Mark Bramble
Music: CY Coleman
Lyrics: Michael Stewart
Director: Jonathan O’Boyle
There’s something inherently appealing about Barnum. A musical about the origins story of the touring circus and a balancing act between success, ambition and showmanship ought to feel entirely at home in a touring venue, and this 2026 UK tour certainly arrives with enough fanfare to suggest it means business. With a company of 20 actor-musicians, eye-catching circus artistry and a promise of all-singing, all-dancing excess, it delivers energy in abundance and is certainly a very busy production.
At the centre of it all is Lee Mead as P. T. Barnum, and he proves an affable, bright-eyed ringmaster. There’s a twinkling sincerity to his performance that makes even Barnum’s most shameless humbug feel faintly benevolent. Vocally assured and relatively nimble, Mead navigates the score well, though he never commands the stage in a, dare I say it, Hugh Jackman fashion. He tackles the circus demands gamely, striding the tightrope with commendable confidence. It’s a good turn, full of warmth, but it’s not quite the charismatic showman that Barnum supposedly is.
The ensemble — an incredibly skilled, hard-working, multi-talented troupe of mostly actor-musicians — are relentless. When the concept clicks, the effect is joyous and gloriously messy in the best possible way, entirely in keeping with Barnum’s chaotic vision. Elsewhere, however, the abundance of instruments and almost random acrobatics can make the stage resemble an especially enthusiastic music department, with focus occasionally in short supply.
Quite often the vocals are lost because they are not balanced properly against a full orchestra essentially playing on the same stage – not in the pit, not behind the singers, but duking it out toe to toe. For this reason, There is a Sucker Born Every Minute, The Museum Song and One Brick at a Time lyrics were all lost, which was particularly disappointing for The Museum Song given that many moons ago Michael Crawford was able to do it twice perfectly, be heard and on occasion go back for an even faster third rendition.
Interestingly, the score often shines brightest when pared back, allowing a single piano or harp to carry the emotional weight without competition and the same could be said for the acrobatic visuals – there doesn’t always need to be someone bending about in the background to remind us it’s a circus.
Choreography by Oti Mabuse and circus direction from Amy Panter provide some of the evening’s most exciting moments. Acrobats thread through dance numbers; silks unfurl; bodies stack and spin in playful and perilous formations. For long stretches, the theatre feels as though it has shape-shifted into a bona fide big top. That said, the circus elements are something of a double-edged sword. They’re skilfully performed and undeniably impressive, but their regularity slightly blunts their impact, spectacle becomes habit rather than surprise – it feels as if Mabuse and Panter asked what all of the cast’s special skills were then endeavoured to shoehorn them into the show no matter what.
Mark Bramble’s book remains the production’s trickiest balancing act. The framing device of a Ring Master guiding us through Barnum’s rise — from small-time promoter to co-founder of what would become the “Greatest Show on Earth” — signposts the journey clearly enough, but also exposes the episodic structure and slightly clunky narrative.
Characters appear, make an impression, then drift away before they’ve truly settled. Barnum’s moral murkiness is acknowledged rather than interrogated, and his relationship with Charity never quite gathers the emotional heft it needs. This isn’t helped by Charity dying off ever so quickly after having a single cough – no time to mourn we are on to the next showpiece. In 2026, it’s hard not to think of The Greatest Showman — a film that, for all its gloss, understands emotional momentum. Here, the show can feel like a sequence of skilfully executed moments searching for a stronger connective thread.
Lighting design by Jai Morjaria is effective, using Vaudeville-esque border lights for the showier numbers, then softening into something altogether more sensitive in quieter scenes. These glimpses of stillness hint at the depth the production might have achieved had it trusted those moments more fully.
All told, this touring Barnum genuinely delights the crowd. It may not always persuade the heart to queue up twice, but it’s colourful, energetic and brimming with effort.
Runs until Saturday 28th February 2026, before continuing on tour
The Reviews Hub Star Rating
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8

