Book and Lyrics: Stephen Beresford
Music: Christopher Nightingale, Josh Cohen and DJ Walde
Director: Matthew Warchus
While much of the dialogue in this new musical has been lifted from the original film from 2014, it’s best to view Pride (the musical) as a different beast entirely, rather than a faithful retelling of activist group Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners (LGSM). The film was almost a musical anyway, with songs by the likes of King, Bronski Beat and Sylvester. The new songs, written for the musical, certainly bring the feel-good factor, but they also tap into a mournfulness that lingered more quietly on the film’s periphery. The musical is more sentimental than the film, but just as powerful.
Most of the key characters remain intact. There’s Mark Ashton, the communist, who first comes up with the idea, as they share a common enemy in Margaret Thatcher, that miners and the queer community should come together. It takes a while to really believe that Mark would really be singing and dancing, especially after Ben Schnetzer played him so fierce and political in the film. Jhon Lumsden, however, has an excellent voice and so much charisma that he wins over the audience pretty quickly.
He’s joined in his campaign to collect money for the striking miners by Steph (the L in LGSM), Mike, Mark’s best friend, Jonathan and Gethin, who run Gays the Word bookshop, and 20-year-old Bromley, just like the film. But Reggie, originally a minor character, has been recreated and is now a Black man (Jordan Shaw), giving the musical a sense of diversity that the film lacked.
Over in Wales, in a small mining town in the Dulais Valley, we have Hefina, Gwen and Siân from the Strike Committee and Dai and Cliff from the union. All of them welcome LGSM to their town as a gesture of appreciation for the money they have collected. Gillian Elisa is particularly funny as Gwen. Other characters have been cut, but it’s still an impressively big cast, and it’s a wonder that the National, which, admittedly, hasn’t got the best track record in presenting gay plays, didn’t put it on the Olivier instead of the small Dorfman.
Christopher Nightingale, Josh Cohen and DJ Walde’s songs with lyrics by Stephen Beresford (who wrote the screenplay) are mostly in the vein of musical theatre, although with their subject matter of Solidarity Forever, they are certainly more political than their tunes suggest. One number is a scathing response to Thatcher calling the miners “the enemy within”. Quite sensibly, the creative team retains the folk song Bread and Roses, one of the showstopping moments in the film, and here, extended, it still hits hard.
The songs in the second half are better, from You Might As Well Die, the cabaret number by Jonathan (a brilliantly camp Samuel Barnett), to the stirring solo by Dai (an understated Matthew Woodyat), which acts as a moving refrain at the end of the show. And slotted into the middle of this half is an elegy to those who have died from HIV/AIDS, a subject that the film only hinted at, perhaps expecting its viewers to already know the tragedy that underscored the 80s and the 90s. Indeed, there is much more exposition in the musical, but it’s handled with care. For many younger people in the audience, Thatcher Scargill, AIDS, miners are ancient history.
Coming to London when many Reform councils across England have banned Pride celebrations, and with trans rights in danger under the current Labour Government, this musical is vital. Even though Thatcher defeated the miners, Pride celebrates what can happen when people come together to fight for their rights. But it’s a celebration that is nonetheless bittersweet. It remembers what was achieved, but crucially what was lost.
Runs until 12 September 2026
