It’s that Andrew Lloyd Webber musical I didn’t want to go to because it’s about trains, and I have had quite enough of them in recent years, even if I still stubbornly refuse to learn to drive because I still live in London, and by the time I found a parking spot I would still find myself getting on a bus anyway to head back to where I was going, so I still might as well remain at the mercy of public transport in the first place. And then there was the time I had a change of heart but then didn’t because I had the weekend free (there are two Saturday and two Sunday performances – quite the workout for an all singing, all dancing – no, sorry, roller-blading – musical) but there were rail replacement bus services in operation. And the time I thought about it but on the day I had available there was a proposed Tube strike, which didn’t go ahead in the end, unions being as flippy-floppy as the governments they claim to oppose, and by then I’d booked into something local for the evening in question.

I finally made it thanks to the encouragement of a reviewer from another publication who also works at the venue, and was able to tell me what to do to get a ticket with a decent view without spending too much. To cut a long story short, there was one seat available in the front row for the early Sunday show. Ha! Mine!
I don’t care for immersive shows these days (which doesn’t matter when it comes to invitations to review, because there are other people I can call on who absolutely adore immersive shows), which is just as well, because this isn’t one, whatever the marketing says: a production cannot insist the audience takes no photographs or video, keeps their arms and legs within the confines of their allocated seat, and enforce a “strict no readmission policy” (their words, not mine) and assert it’s immersive. No. The venue is themed – I have a reputation amongst the London reviewing community of liking a drink (or two, or three, or ten) but even I had to curb my alcohol intake on account of the glitterballs in the ridiculously massive foyer and bar area. Just looking at the ground for a few seconds made me feel a bit dizzy. And this was prior to a 1:00pm show, so I could hardly blame whatever I drank earlier in the day (a latte and a Pepsi Max, if you must know).

This is very much an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical about trains – or, rather, personified engines and carriages. It is, frankly, bonkers. Pearl (Kayna Montecillo), apparently a first class passenger carriage, finds herself in a love triangle of sorts, brought about by a competition run by Control (Buzz Fletcher at the performance I attended: the role is shared with Cristian Buttaci, Aanya Devi Sharma, Barnaby Halliwell, Elliott Norrington and Karin Narumi), who likes to play with multiple train sets on what must be quite an elaborate playroom setup. An engine must be coupled with a carriage, Control stipulates. But with Pearl receiving more than one invitation, there’s a whole song about her dilemma.
The irony wasn’t lost, at least not in my section of the audience, that a show about trains began six minutes late (would we have been entitled to the equivalent of a ‘delay repay’ refund if it started more than thirty minutes late?). When I saw Starlight at New Wimbledon Theatre in 2012, the audience put on 3D glasses, provided by the production, with which the races were viewed. Sitting in the front section means technically not seeing some of the skating, which extends into the aisles (hence the no readmission policy) but the production gets around this with screens and live video footage.

It's been updated – to an extent. There’s talk, or rather singing, of hydrogen being the future (such trains do actually exist these days), and a reference to net zero, though the power of steam is still also lauded. Making sense of what is going on is futile. But then I wouldn’t go to Starlight Express for the plot, anymore than I would go to a panto for a deep and meaningful storyline.
Mind you, the emotions (of supposedly inanimate train engines and carriages) swell, and there’s an awful lot of bravado. The racing itself wasn’t particularly impressive to look at, fortified as it was by commentary from Control and the use of CGI (collective group imagination), without which the races mostly looked like people on roller skates having a leisurely afternoon in Hyde Park. Gareth Owen and Matt Peploe’s sound design ensured I caught more lyrics than I expected to. It’s a lot of fun. It’s enduring popularity, forty years after its West End premiere, speaks for itself.
Four stars
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