Take That musical fails to shine
It’s exactly 10 years since Manchester Opera House played host to the premiere of a tacky jukebox musical based on the hits of Take That. That show,
Never Forget, about the trials of a tribute act, enjoyed a short but money-losing run in the West End in 2008 and was (rightly) forgotten.
Now it’s a case of “Relight My Fire” Mark 2, as a fresh attempt is made to theatricalise the songbook of the most successful British boyband in pop history, this time with the blessing, and co-producing involvement, of the group themselves (well, the current line-up, Gary Barlow, Howard Donald and Mark Owen, plus Robbie Williams; Jason Orange has bidden his farewells).
The past decade has been fruitful for Barlow and co. But while this new enterprise – by populist handyman Tim Firth – has already taken £10million in advance sales, it strikes me as being artistically bankrupt. Take That? Touring Tat, more like.
It’s as if those involved have said: “What has been the key demographic for Take That over the years? Oh, of course, teenage girls in the Nineties – now hitting middle-age in tandem with their heroes. Let’s go for that market.” Hence we get a soppy affair about five Top of the Pops-fixated northern school girls whose lives are changed by a Take That gig (or so the insignia implies; the band isn’t overtly referenced). One of their number fatally comes a cropper going home. The remaining four friends then raucously reunite 25 years on, courtesy of a competition win to another TT gig in Prague, allowing them to rekindle teen excitements, spill beans, get banged up in a police cell, mull things over, reconnect realistically with youthful hopes and, in one case, tie the knot.
There are certainly flashes of wit, and the closing sections do everything they can to tug at the heartstrings, but neither in terms of uproarious comedy nor pained emotion are we in the same realm as Mamma Mia!. Irrespective of the blessings bestowed on the project by “the boys” themselves, the focus on “the girls” (which The Band might easily be called, had Firth not just used that title for his Calendar Girls spin-off ) short-changes their achievements.
They’re incarnated here by the five youngsters who earlier this year won the BBC’S Let It Shine talent show. (An insult to licence fee payers? You decide.) This fresh-faced quintet work their little socks off doing synchronised head-dips and acrobatics, often changing costumes at incredible speed, but they never conjure or match the distinctive personalities (or sex appeal) of the idols they’re modelled on. They’re performing poodles or background figures – circling the lasses and ladies like ghosts, or getting hands-on as airline crew, even striking a pose as a scantily clad Prague fountain statuary.
Yes, sure, pop stars are figments of fantasy, escapist projections, but the actual story of Take That is infinitely more interesting than the off-the-peg tale of slow-burn empowerment that takes centre-stage here. It’s great to hear those songs again, but otherwise it all feels terribly déjà vu.