Singin’ in The Rain – Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester

Screenplay: Betty Comden and Adolph Green

Songs: Nacio Herb Brown and Arthur Freed

Director: Raz Shaw

MGM’s 1952 pot boiler is now generally regarded as one of the greatest musical films ever made, and undeniably one of the most popular. Manchester’s reputation for persistent showers must have seemed a natural fit for this production, but of course there is much more to the film – and this show – than the iconic song and dance routine by Gene Kelly.

Movie-makers love making films about the movies, particularly the period of transition from silent cinema to the Talkies. Recent indulgence in this nostalgia range from ‘The Artist’ to ‘Babylon’. As most of the songs featured in the show are from this period, this dictated the setting and some of the storyline, centred on  silent film stars of the late 1920’s. It also affords some opportunities for lampooning the industry and those who feed off it. 

The plot follows a developing love story between Hollywood film idol Don Lockwood, played by Louis Gaunt, and ambitious actress Kathy Selden (Carly Mercedes Dyer). The lovers overcome various obstacles to make a success of their careers in the new world of talking pictures, and to find romance together. Along the way they reprise a string of hits from earlier Hollywood musicals, knitted into the narrative, much like a modern juke box musical.

As might be expected, the heaviest lifting falls to the principals Gaunt and Dyer, and both bring a warmth and richness to their interactions, but the show is almost stolen on several occasions by Danny Collins as Lockwood’s boyhood pal Cosmo Brown. Cosmo plays the comedic foil to Lockwood’s more conventional romantic lead, but his hoofing and goofing routines take immense talent and energy. “Make ‘Em Laugh”, one of the few original songs in the show, provides a showcase for Collins which nearly brings the house down.

It is impossible to touch on the comic elements of the show without giving credit to Laura Baldwin for her performance as Lina Lamont, the dim studio starlet and cover girl supposedly engaged to Don Lockwood for the press coverage it brings. The emergence of talking pictures threatens to reveal her nasal Brooklyn squawk of a voice, as well as her inability to act. Her jealousy of Kathy drives her to a series of vicious revenges which evaporates any sympathy for the character. Yet Baldwin provides a show-stopping and audience-pleasing solo with the raunchy protestation of “What’s Wrong With Me?” 

Much of the strength in depth of this show lies in the elegance and energy of the ensemble cast of singers and dancers, who power the big numbers along. It is here that Alistair David’s choreography marries perfectly with the in-the-round stage of the theatre and the lack of distance between the audience and the cast. The ebullience of the dancing is infectious, even for those with little sense of rhythm. In particular the tap routines have a wild primitive energy, matched to flawless precision in their execution.

Music is essential for a musical, and the band, led by Matthew Malone, prove capable of teasing every nuance from the love songs and every brazen breath from the high energy dance routines. Carly Mercedes Dyer has a voice of considerable power when she lets rip, and Louis Gaunt has a tenderness in his romantic songs that gives his performance genuine subtlety.

The staging is minimalist, with furniture and props set and struck by the cast themselves. Even elaborate film sets are reduced to a few signature items, and party scenes require little more than a drinks tray. But when the cast are let loose on the more Busby Berkeley set pieces, costumes and staging take on a more elaborate aesthetic. This reaches its zenith in the “Broadway Rhythm” jazz-ballet sequence, which also allows the cast as a whole to break free from some of the conventions and expectations of the form.

While the proximity to the action is captivating for the audience, the Royal Exchange stage also minimises barriers between them and the action. There is no proscenium arch framing, or podium platform, no curtain to hide behind. Instead, the audience is drawn into the action in a very tangible way: high-fiving the careering cast members, acting as a handy umbrella stand, or getting spattered by the rainstorm. A true sense of connection, even communion, is made in the more upbeat numbers.

While many aspects of this production call for superlatives, there is no higher bar than the performance of the signature title song, a solo dance by Louis Gaunt as the rain falls onto the circular stage, and he turns his redundant umbrella into a dance partner. The anticipation builds for a considerable time as the sound effects of thunder and lightning herald the inevitable. If he was intimidated it did not show in his performance, which was triumphant. Though the finale ensemble performance in wellies and sou’westers was more fun.

Runs at the Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester, until 25 January 2026.