Book: Robert Horn
Music and Lyrics: Brandy Clark and Shane McAnally
Director: Jack O’Brien
In his first production in his inaugural season as Artistic Director, Drew McOnie has brought over a Broadway musical comedy that garnered nine nominations and one win at the 2023 Tony Awards.
Shucked is set in an isolated community in middle America, nestled within the centre of its tall cornfields. Its residents care not for the outside world, but when their crops start mysteriously wilting, Sophie McShera’s Maizy takes it upon herself to go out into the wider world for help. Unfortunately, the “corn doctor” she finds is not an agronomist, but a podiatrist – and a sleazy conman podiatrist to boot.
Narrated as a fable, Monique Ashe-Palmer and Steven Webb’s storytellers bring in the audience with a nonchalant twinkle that sets the tone for the whole show – knowing, silly and with a non-stop cavalcade of jokes. Robert Horn’s book is so chock-full of gags that, at times, it can feel relentless. The pace of setup, punchline, setup, punchline is reminiscent of a Tim Vine standup gig interspersed with musical numbers. Thankfully, the gags are high quality throughout, especially the surreal non-sequiturs from Keith Ramsay’s Peanut, brother to the show’s romantic lead (and Maizy’s fiancé), Beau, played by Ben Joyce.
Within the gag-fuelled book, a story still manages to develop, along with some fine characterisation. From Maizy’s self belief (“This isn’t an argument; I’m right and you’re just saying things”) to the sarcastic cynicism of her cousin Lulu, played by Georgina Onuorah (“these eyebrows may not be my children, but I’m gonna raise them”), there is a strong sense of character throughout.
Brandy Clark and Shane McAnally’s songs similarly start out with echoes of Porter, Gershwin, and Rodgers, although as the show progresses, more country stylings creep in. While the lyrics aren’t quite as gag-filled as the book, there’s a cohesive whole to the piece, with comedy creeping into the songs and romanticism leeching out into the dialogue.
Onuorah blasts her way through her role as Lulu, delivering powerhouse vocals to her numbers (especially Act I’s Independently Owned). Joyce also gets an opportunity to provide show-stopping solos, adding depth to an already warm character. Scott Pask’s set design, rows of corn framing a delightfully askew barn, characterise the show’s whole attitude delightfully, and Sarah O’Gleby’s choreography further accentuates the aesthetic.
But it’s the fun and silliness that really sets Shucked apart. Webb, in particular, is having a blast in his storyteller role, elevating the entire show yet further. He and Ramsay show how it’s possible to be relentlessly daft, yet lovably sincere at the same time.
At one point, Beau tells Matthew Seadon-Young’s conman Gordy, who underestimates the town, that “there’s a cornfield of difference between simple and stupid.” Shucked gives off an air of being a simple tale of simple folk, but a show this consistently hilarious and entertaining is all the better because it’s smart enough to know exactly how, when and why to be utterly, utterly stupid.
Continues until 14 June 2025
