SPONGEBOB MUSICAL’S A DAMP SQUID
The Spongebob Musical (Oxford New Theatre, and touring) Verdict: Hole-y inadequate
SHOULD you have come of age around the millennium and had parents who subcontracted a fair amount of parenting to the Nickelodeon channel, you’ll remember SpongeBob as a quirky cartoon.
Living in the town of old Bikini Bottom, he’s the campest, most childishly optimistic adult sea sponge going, with pals including stupid starfish Patrick and the clinically depressed clarinet-playing squid, Squidward.
Musicals are increasingly, lazily hooked on milking established brands. Years after he trod the Broadway boards, SpongeBob has beached on our shores for a national tour.
It is dreadful — commercialisation-at-sea’s biggest flop since the Titanic. Kyle Jarrow’s bland, wooden book wades through a simple plot (a volcano threatens the town) but gets lost in a kelp forest of minor character diversions to squeeze in the whole gang.
The music is a nonsense collection of ‘original songs’ from a long list of random poptypes spanning Cyndi Lauper, John Legend and Aerosmith. Earnest dirges about the best day ever or looking forward to tomorrow. Drown me.
The bankable ‘star’ turns here are Pop Idol’s Gareth Gates as Squidward (who barely appears but to kill a tap number) and Drag Queen Divina de Campo who phones it in as plankton villain Sheldon.
It’s a shame because, all this aside, there’s a really talented ensemble. Our SpongeBob, Lewis Conway, has a tremendous voice. He and Chrissie Bhima (his squirrel best friend) are far too good for this.