Just For One Day – The Old Vic

Naomi Katiyo and the company in Just For One Day at The Old Vic, London. Picture: Manuel Harlan

Just For One Day continues at The Old Vic, London until 30 March 2024.

Star rating: four stars ★ ★ ★ ★ ✩

BBC correspondent Michael Buerk and his cameraman Mohamed Amin’s report on the Ethiopian famine in October 1984 kickstarted a colossal outpouring of sentiment and charity. The combination of viscerally distressing imagery with Buerk’s narration – this was, he intoned, “a Biblical famine, here in the 20th century” – inspired Boomtown Rats frontman Bob Geldof to do something more than just collect a fiver from everyone who visited the home he shared with his wife, Paula Yates.

That desire to do something turned into a rapidly made Christmas single, ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas?’, which broke all records. That snowballed into the global pop music event Live Aid – two simultaneous concerts in London and Philadelphia, featuring some of the world’s most iconic pop stars and beamed worldwide.

Hindsight allows us to see some of the more problematic elements of the whole endeavour with increased clarity. From the lyrics of Geldof and Midge Ure’s song – “tonight thank God it’s them, instead of you” – to the USA for Africa’s self-congratulatory follow-up, ‘We Are the World’ (“We are the ones who make a brighter day, so let’s start giving”). From the idea that rock stars could “fix” the humanitarian crisis, unaware of the complexities with which aid agencies had been struggling, to framing Africa, a continent of 54 nations, as a single entity with its hand out.

For all such problems, Live Aid did achieve something remarkable. Just For One Day is an attempt to memorialise that period, using new arrangements of songs featured on the stages of Wembley and the John F Kennedy Stadium in July 1985. John O’Farrell’s book sees Jackie Clune’s Suzanne take Gen Z-er Jemma (Naomi Katiyo) through the event’s history, dragging along a highly reluctant Bob Geldof (Craige Els) through his memories.

The use of Geldof here is fun, riffing on Sir Bob’s reluctance to put himself as a figurehead or paint himself as a hero (the musical’s opening number, which provides the show’s title, is David Bowie’s ‘Heroes’). It is an effective counterpoint to the sometimes excruciatingly written Jemma and aid worker Amara (Abiona Omonua), who both provide the show’s moral outrage and acknowledge Live Aid’s less-than-ideal moments. Some of their dialogue is so on-the-nose that it is not only painful, but one feels it may be counter-productive.

The book is much stronger when taking a more freewheeling approach to history. Nowhere is this more evident than in its treatment of Margaret Thatcher, then the country’s Prime Minister, who butted heads with Geldof over the government’s refusal to waive the VAT (then at 15%) on record sales of ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas?’. Musical theatre stalwart Julie Atherton produces a hilarious character study, transforming the humourless Grantham-born Iron Lady into one of the musical’s most engaging characters. In her hands, ‘Stop Your Sobbing’ (the Kinks song which became The Pretenders’ first hit) becomes a Northern music hall patter song, while her ongoing war of words with Geldof becomes a form of rap battle. Atherton and Els’ duel becomes the musical’s only original number, with Mrs T/Mr G including lyrics by Geldof.

While the book may be lacking, that could not be said of the musical performances. Matthew Brind’s orchestrations, performed by a six-piece band under musical director Patrick Hurley, bring fresh perspective and nuance to many 1980s standards. From conventional arrangements (such as Jack Shalloo as Midge Ure, performing Ultravox’s ‘Dancing With Tears in My Eyes’) to the introduction of Joel Montague’s Harvey Goldsmith through the use of Elton John’s ‘Pinball Wizard’, the combination of familiarity and novelty is an infectious one.

Danielle Steers and Ashley Campbell provide a nice running thread as unsung background workers, making the most of their thinly written caricatures. Their work together excels in the vocal numbers, especially in a roaring version of ‘Dancing in the Streets’ that becomes an early Act II highlight.

It is in some of the slower, more contemplative numbers that it becomes easiest to believe that, for all its flaws, Live Aid and the Band Aid Trust were doing something special. From The Police’s ‘Every Breath You Take’ to Dylan’s ‘Blowin’ in the Wind’, the small contemplative moments demonstrate director Luke Sheppard’s assured hand on the production.

The show ends with a beautiful acoustic performance of ‘My Generation’, led by Katiyo and some of the large cast’s younger players, moving into a stirring finale with ‘Let It Be’. At these moments, O’Farrell’s call to arms – that Band Aid was at best a sticking plaster for global problems that successive generations must continue fighting with Geldof-like levels of stubbornness – is at its most beguiling.

Music is not a solution, Els’ Geldof implores. But music does bring people together, and it is through togetherness that political change can happen. Clumsily delivered though that message may be at times, it’s a moral that justifies Just For One Day’s existence like no other. With so many globally threatening scenarios playing out nightly on the news, we need to remember that we, too, can be heroes.

Scott Matthewman