The Choir of Man – Arts Theatre

The Choir of Man continues at the Arts Theatre, London.

Star rating: five stars ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

In a move sure to charm any Brit, The Choir of Man (created by Andrew Kay and Nic Doodson) kicks off its story with a pint. The audience oozes around and onto the stage, congregating and chatting happily with a freshly pulled beer in hand. The on-stage bar, with its working beer taps and sticky authenticity, embodies so much of what the show gets undeniably right: the utter familiarity and ease of your local pub. The Choir of Man takes place entirely in ‘The Jungle’, a brilliant re-creation of one of the thousands of pubs all around the country, designed by Oli Townsend, and revolves around a group of nine men who feel equally as genuine and joyous as the set they bounce around.

There is really no plot involved in this production, something that the show’s writer Ben Norris happily acknowledges: “The Choir of Man doesn’t have a ‘story’ in the traditional sense… but that doesn’t mean it isn’t about anything.” This is certainly true; the show doesn’t contain an identifiable narrative, but rather explodes with joy, truth and an outstanding image of tender masculinity.

The show is tied inexorably to the idea of men drinking together in a pub. A simple notion, one that is transformed and explored in a multitude of ways. There are moments of real, tangible seriousness and vulnerability, in discussions about the damage done to communities by Covid, and by a government who seeks to “close down spaces and open up gaps” in a pointed reference to rampant gentrification taking place all over the country.

These moments are brought into a balanced whole however, as the stage is swept time and time again with raucous, raging, perfectly polished song and dance. Jack Blume’s inspired renovating of popular songs brings an unbelievable freshness to well-known numbers, managing to sell even the most teeth-grittingly over-played songs (such as Avicii’s ‘Wake Me Up’ and Sia’s ‘Chandelier’) as something entirely new and entirely enjoyable.

The programme, while heart-warmingly affectionate, almost does its cast a disservice in naming them a group of ‘normal guys. Men who could sing, play instruments, maybe even move a bit’. While the closeness and warmth of this group’s relationships is incredibly touching in just how ‘normal’ and believable it appears, the group is far from average in their talents. The cast is relentlessly good, with constantly surprising voices that perfectly support and temper one another. Much can be said too for the group’s movement on stage, flawlessly imperfect in its spontaneity, and utterly coordinated in every moment of choreography (credit to Freddie Huddleston).

The Choir of Man is nothing short of an utter joy, one with a bedrock of importance in its focus upon the strengths of open, communicative masculinity. It’s a show that feels not only incredible in every technical and musical aspect, but also incredibly important in its messaging and principles. All in, a thunderously good evening.

Saskia Wraith