It’s Only Life – Union Theatre

Picture: Pamela Raith Photography

It’s Only Life continues at the Union Theatre, London until 7 July 2018.

Star rating: five stars ★★★★★

One disadvantage with songwriters that write highly personal, intimate songs is that there is often a preponderance of numbers about writing. This is often true with It’s Only Life, a revue of songs by John Bucchino that was originally put together in 2008 and is now shown in a fully-staged production at the Union Theatre.

But rather than being obsessed with himself and inviting others in to have the same preoccupation, the genius of Bucchino’s songs collected here is not that they are about one person, but that they invite us to look within ourselves. The result is a theatrical event which, if one lets it, has the potential to be one of the most self-affirming theatrical experiences in a long while.

Director Tania Azevedo sets the mood for something a little different from the off, having the cast mingle with the audience and asking them to write the fears and affirmations of life on pieces of paper. And while that may feel a little gimmicky at first for the typically reserved Brit, it is impossible not to get swept up in the air of self exposition.

And that is what is the heart of both Bucchino’s songs and this production’s success. The songs are presented without amplification, accompanied only by musical director Nick Barstow on piano. And while one or two performances are a little on the quiet side – Will Carey, making his professional debut after graduating from GSA, occasionally struggles with songs that are pitched lower than his tenor voice is really comfortable with –this does not matters one jot.

For Azevedo works hard to ensure that one’s attention is drawn to each solo performer and stays there, ensuring that even in the quietest moments nothing is missed in its conveyance to the audience.

The musical numbers themselves are delicate and moving. From the opening song, ‘The Artist at 40’, which deals with fears of ageing and losing touch with the wider world (“I’m so busy making art, there’s no time left to live the life the art is imitating”) Bucchino explores what it is to face those fears, to acknowledge that they may help define us but they should not limit us.

William Whelton’s choreography helps play into this. There is a touch of the retro 1960s interpretive dance to the ensemble moments at the top of the show. The effect is, like those slips of paper, a little unnerving at first, but like everything about this show it exists solely to accentuate Bucchino’s heartfelt lyrics and touching melodies.

With no through narrative to speak of, each actor adapts their character to suit each song. The objects of each character’s attraction are similarly fluid, further emphasising how each piece works alone: but the fluidity of movement, and the coherence of Justin Williams’ white-with-pastel-accents set design, glues the songs together to provide a whole.

In an evening which is full of delightful numbers which retain in the memory, from the upbeat ‘da-da-da-da da-da-da’ motif of ‘That Smile’ to the blues of ‘What You Need’, one of the standout performances comes with an Act II rendition of ‘If I Ever Say I’m Over You’ by Jordan Shaw that is quiet, regretful and with a slice of optimism.

Elsewhere, each member of the ensemble has their own stand-out moment. Sammy Graham (like Carey, making her post-graduation professional debut) delivers a poignant rendition of ‘This Moment’, while Noel Sullivan delivers a powerful hymn to coupledom with ‘It Feels Like Home’.

Jennifer Harding – whose Canadian burr stands out if only because the British artists are, refreshingly, singing in their own accents – gives one of Act I’s highlights with ‘Sweet Dreams’, detailing how people who chase towards their dreams often have nightmares they are running away from.

And together as a whole, Azevedo and her ensemble deliver not only a tribute to the masterful songwriting of John Bucchino – rich, absorbing and emotional but without the accompanying ego of Jason Robert Brown or Scott Alan – but to the human spirit.

All too often in writing, the words “only” or “just” can be used to belittle an emotional and educational journey. “It’s just this” or “it’s only that” negates all the decision making, the false starts and little successes that one must go through to get to that point. Conversely, It’s Only Life embraces those little moments.

The result is one of the biggest-hearted shows one could hope for. Whatever one writes down as a fear on that piece of paper, one leaves the Union believing that one can face it down. And it’s a rare time when musical theatre is able to be that transformative.

Scott Matthewman