Book, Music and Lyrics: Willy Russell
Director: Bob Tomson
“Tell me it’s not true. Say it’s just a story…”
Did you hear the story of the Johnstone twins? So starts Blood Brothers. Two boys, Mickey (Josh Capper) and Eddie (Joe Sleight), secretly separated at birth when biological mother Mrs Johnstone (Vivienne Carlyle) makes a pact with desperate adopter Mrs Lyons (Sarah Jane Buckley). A secret sworn on a Bible, with a warning that should either learn of what was once the truth, then both would immediately die. A shadowy Narrator (Scott Anson) guides the audience through the tale of twenty something years of these two boys’ lives, their relationships with the two mothers and with local girl Linda (Gemma Broderick), and the tragedy doomed to befall them all.
And it’s a tragedy the audience are engrossed in. Starting at the end and then rewinding to the start, Carlyle immediately captures the spirit of that woman we all know in Mrs Johnstone, the one with too many kids and not enough support, but who is pulling herself through anyway. The warmth and care she brings to this iconic role is lovely to see, and you will go home wanting her to be your Mum too. Her voice is incredible, with Bright New Day and Tell Me It’s Not True being particularly strong moments for her, although it’s a shame that she seems to have been directed to swallow the end of her lines while singing, something notably evident in her duet My Child with Buckley, who comes across as the stronger singer (she is a strong actress too, portraying Mrs Lyons decent to paranoia wonderfully).
The swallowing lines direction appears to also have been given to Anson, who often looks physically pained during his time on stage. While the choice to have an emotional Narrator rather than the usual neutral or even threatening one is a nice change, and one Anson does especially well during the extended monologues and the ending, he does so while looking so uncomfortable that it can be jarring.
In complete contrast are the three younger characters. Capper’s Mickey is a delight to watch, especially during the youngest years when he encapsulates the rough and tumble seven-year-old boy superbly. He is the strongest performer of the night, although not far behind are Sleight and Broderick as Eddie and Linda. Sleight’s little mannerisms and quirks are smashing, and Broderick is just thoroughly relatable – her silent breakdown during Light Romance is possibly the most heart-breaking moment in a show full of heart-breaking moments. One extra mention must also go to Tim Churchill, who primarily plays Mr Lyons, but is also an excellent cameo in a myriad of other small parts.
The music is bombastic, belting and beautiful. From the joy of Kids Game, through the threat of Shoes Upon the Table and the dark nostalgia of Marilyn Monroe, there are so many lines that the audience will be humming for days. The set is evocative, and the costumes spot on for the era. The whole show is a delight, even while it destroys us.
Blood Brothers is one of those shows that surely everyone knows by now. It’s been performed for over 40 years, the landscape outside the theatre moving on from the drudgery of the 1980s, which it so wonderfully encapsulates, but the story still incredibly relevant today. The discussions provoked about nature vs nurture, class, privilege, and the Welfare State are still ones necessary to have when even considering the raising of children. Was Eddie doomed to succeed merely because he was picked to be adopted? Could Mickey have ever risen above the council estate where he started life, had things just gone slightly differently? Would Linda be happier had she chosen the other boy? What if neither of them had been given up for adoption? What if both had? Blood Brothers is a tragedy on par with anything Shakespeare ever wrote, because the sheer inevitability of the ending feels so inescapable, even with all the what ifs in the world. And that’s why it still brings the audience to tears, and long may it continue to do so.
Runs until Saturday 7 December 2024
The Reviews Hub Score
A tragic triumph
