Sister Act: A Divine Musical Comedy – Brighton Theatre Royal

Music: Alan Menken

Lyrics: Glenn Slater

Book: Cheri Steinkellner & Bill Steinkellner

Director: Bill Buckhurst

The latest in a seemingly endless line of stage musical adaptations of cinematic classics hits Brighton’s Theatre Royal in the form of Sister Act: A Divine Musical Comedy. The original 1992 film starring Whoopi Goldberg as a club singer sent to live disguised as a nun to escape the wrath of her criminal boyfriend fused culture clash comedy with uplifting musical set pieces. It would seem the perfect candidate for a stage adaptation, but the songs by Oscar-winner Alan Menken mostly eschew the gospel and doo-wop of the film in favour of generic, forgettable musical theatre fare.

The starring role of nun on the run, Deloris van Cartier, is handled with charisma and energy by Landi Oshinowo, and the sisters she finds herself amongst are all charming in their naivety and excitement at having a new member of their order. The severe Mother Superior (Kate Powell), who knows the truth of Deloris’ less than holy background is more guarded, setting out the rules of the church in an early number with a schmaltzy counter-melody section that reminds us we’re at the mercy of the composer of Disney megahit A Whole New World.

One of the key narrative moments of the original film comes in the form of a choir practice where know-it-all worldly woman Deloris is invited to lead the choir and proceeds to transform the group of nervy Christian girls into gospel starlets. That scene’s equivalent tonight, the number Raise Your Voice, is a fun story of a tune that begins with the nuns all trilling a hymn with hilariously boisterous tunelessness. Deloris gets her new sisters to one-by-one connect with their inner divas in a song that hints at gospel but with a chorus that quickly reneges on that promise. In a scene that should be our heroine passing on the soulful musical heritage of her Black identity, the music remains (as it does throughout) rather unfunky and too – for want of a better word – white, thus abandoning the most compelling theme of the original film.

Beyond the walls of the church hapless criminal boss Curtis (Ian Gareth-Jones) and his henchmen plot the recapture of Deloris, swearing various modes of violence against her, whilst never appearing truly menacing. Their characterisation barely strays beyond knucklehead Mafia-Lite territory. In the character of police officer “Steady” Eddie Souther, however, we find an incredibly charming and funny expansion of the film’s equivalent. Played with impeccable physical comedy timing by local boy Alfie Parker (who comes from Worthing), he steals the show numerous times with a nuance that is lacking in most of the other characters. When adapting something as a musical, part of the remit is turning the camp factor up to 11 and Parker all but fills the quota on his own. One of the highlights of the show is his solo that starts as an Elton John-esque soul number and explodes into a strutting disco climax complete with his police department colleagues as backing singers sporting some of the most fabulous costumes of the night.

There’s a glittering disco ball lighting up the theatre on the more upbeat tunes and a punch of razzamatazz and colour that goes some way towards creating the kind of spectacle you want from your musical theatre experience. The set is simple with huge patterned arches to evoke stained glass windows in the vaulted ceiling of a cathedral. But it’s a little too simple, with washes of coloured light and abstract patterns that don’t actually look especially Christian.

Sure, it’s a fun night out with many laugh-out-loud broad comedy moments but the second half limps over the line with too many filler songs that don’t move the story on, and no amount of glitter and rainbow lighting can make the finale truly satisfying. It feels rather like the producers have fumbled the ball with this revival. In a culture of recycling and repackaging the hits of the past to turn a sure-fire profit, this one is standing out as particularly transparent, with Steady Eddie one of the few sources of redemption.

Runs until 16 March 2024