Midnight at the Never Get – Menier Chocolate Factory

Ben Platt in Midnight at the Never Get at the Menier Chocolate Factory, London. Picture: Johan Persson

Midnight at the Never Get continues at the Menier Chocolate Factory, London until 12 September 2026.

Star rating: three stars ★ ★ ★ ✩ ✩

Ben Platt returns to the London stage, but this time the setting couldn’t be more different from the vast London Palladium, where he appeared opposite Rachel Zegler in the 25th anniversary concert staging of The Last Five Years earlier this year. Instead, audiences have the chance to see him lead the UK premiere of the original musical Midnight at the Never Get (conceived by Sam Bolen, Max Friedman and Mark Sonnenblick) at the Menier Chocolate Factory, transformed into a downtown New York cabaret club in the early 1960s.

As singer Trevor Copeland, Platt serves as our storyteller, reflecting on his forbidden relationship with composer Arthur Brightman (Gregor Milne) and the profound impact that love affair had on the rest of his life and career. Through songs Trevor once performed with Arthur, we are transported back to The Never Get, the Greenwich Village gay nightspot where the two artists collaborated and, we are told, fell in love.

Librettist, composer and lyricist Sonnenblick ambitiously weaves together Trevor and Arthur’s love affair with the changing social and political landscape of 1960s New York, framing the action through a cabaret performance that shifts between memory and the present day. As Trevor revisits the pair’s creative partnership, the musical tentatively charts the growing gay liberation movement, culminating in the Stonewall Riots of 1969.

Sonnenblick’s ambition is admirable, but the various narrative strands can end up competing for attention. As a result, the 90-minute production occasionally loses momentum, becoming overburdened with exposition.

The question of perspective also becomes increasingly important, as we are, of course, hearing Trevor’s version of events. Arthur appears to evolve from a composer determined to remain true to his artistic principles into someone willing to compromise if it means finding success in Los Angeles and having the likes of Connie Francis or Eydie Gormé record his songs. Trevor concludes that Arthur may have loved him, but he loved songwriting more – and perhaps that ultimately meant not only leaving him behind, but also his identity as a gay man.

Trevor goes on to question whether his own memories can be trusted, even challenging Milne’s portrayal of Arthur in the flashbacks we have witnessed, reminding us that the composer has been little more than “the accompanist” in his account. There is enormous dramatic potential in these ideas, but several arrive too late to be fully explored, distancing the audience from a story they had possibly become invested in.

Where Midnight at the Never Get finds its strongest footing is in the score. Sonnenblick, whose previous credits include The Devil Wears Prada and KPop Demon Hunters, draws clear inspiration from the Great American Songbook without ever slipping into parody. The songs range effortlessly from witty wordplay and sharp satire to jazz and swing to yearning torch-song ballads. Musical supervisor, musical director and orchestrator Andrew Resnick, together with sound designer Paul Groothuis, ensure the score is presented with clarity.

Both Platt and Milne navigate the book with assurance, but they are somewhat constrained by its lack of spontaneity. In contrast, the musical numbers allow both performers to bring a natural ease and emotional authenticity to their songs.

A talented vocalist and pianist, Milne has the complex task of portraying both Arthur and Trevor’s accompanist, yet he handles the challenge with conviction, his quiet commitment lending dramatic weight to the unfolding story.

Platt, meanwhile, pours his heart and soul into his portrayal of Trevor. Watching him perform in such an intimate setting feels like a genuine privilege, every subtle expression and vocal inflection amplified by the proximity of the Menier. He may not always be served by the text, but he has a captivating stage presence and a vocal quality and dexterity that make him a truly unique talent.

A special mention should go to Barry James, whose brief but affecting appearance during the closing stages quietly reframes much of what has gone before. Without giving too much away, it offers a poignant reflection on the different choices Trevor and Arthur have made. While Arthur appears to have denied his true self in pursuit of success, Trevor, despite the sadness that has shaped his life, has remained true to who he is.

Director David Cromer struggles to maintain a consistent pace, and the increasingly overcrowded drama causes the production to lose some momentum in its closing stages. However, there is an undeniable sophistication to the staging, and the scenes that make full use of the transformed Menier Chocolate Factory – extending the action into the audience – are among the evening’s most visually arresting (choreography by Lynne Page, lighting design by Heather Gilbert).

Gilbert’s lighting beautifully complements Scott Pask’s exquisite set design, whether through the warm tones that bathe the cabaret stage or the carefully positioned lamps dotted throughout the venue. With tables and chairs occupying the centre of the room, surrounded by just a handful of rows of plush seating, the space recalls the Kit Kat Club at London’s Playhouse Theatre, yet the decor and atmosphere have a distinct Greenwich Village identity.

Despite my reservations about the increasingly disparate book, I would still encourage theatregoers to experience this original work. While I never fully connected with the story on an emotional level, Sonnenblick’s richly crafted score and Platt’s striking performance make Midnight at the Never Get a production well worth seeking out.

Lisa Martland