It was way, way back in 1963 that bachelor boy, Cliff Richard, first youthfully urged us to put on our dancing shoes and dance away our blu-ues by joining him and his happy-go-lucky pals on a carefree summer holiday trip across exotic Europe aboard a London-red double-decker bus. Like the 1960s themselves the film was full of sunny fun and optimism in the days when few working-class Britons had a passport, let alone got to go abroad, a time when a more laid-back, que sera sera approach to life was the order of the day.
More than 30 years later, in 1996, the film was adapted into a stage musical by Mark Haddigan and Michael Gyngell, revived in 2003 and 2022. Now, 60 years on from the release of that Big News! Big News! movie, the nostalgia of timeless classic hits and simple, family-fun comedy and sunny optimism is onstage at the Crucible in a new production from Sheffield Theatres in association with Blackpool Grand Theatre. The plot, as ever, is nothing to write home about but it does offer slim threads of intrigue and conflict that allow the comedy “villains” to steal the show entirely and, like the music, to connect powerfully with the audience.
Cliff’s songs, of course, (for all who don’t find them cheesy), deliver a whole lot of sunshine and breezy charm, while the instrumental hits of the guitar-playing Shadows never fail to set toes a-tapping even in abridged versions, and it’s the music that takes prime role throughout this show. Though the drum-kit and keyboard players are located on a central balcony above the main set (also used by cast members from time to time) they’re nicely integrated into the story a little, a beret and accordion appearing in France, sunny garlands in Greece, some guitar-playing and so on. The rest of the music is played entirely onstage by the cast, impressively mixing and matching words with instruments all night long, taking up countless guitars, trumpet, sax, clarinet, flute, harmonica and all manner of tambourines as well as blending their voices in delightful harmony.
The set is minimal, starting out briefly as a café, where the bus workers get together, then folding into backdrops of swirling, bold, bright, colourful patterns, immediately associated with the sixties and seventies, which stay in place throughout. To get our characters aboard their bus, which now identifies as part of the South Yorkshire People’s Network, four sets of double bus-seats and a separate steering-wheel are pushed about the stage on wheeled plinths, while a hand-held model bus of orange-red comes into play from time to time, too, as do board versions of the Eiffel Tower, Leaning Tower of Pisa and the Parthenon, beside which characters pose for camera-clicked photos taken by audience members. Since the itinerant instruments are many, the props are few, which makes them all the more special – a couple of flags, a splendid cut-out ferry-boat with goats, a fabulous, shiny scooter, and a violently smoking Mini with Union flag roof that emerges onto the thrust stage via a trap-door, centre-stage.
The bus mechanics setting out on this adventure are a mixed bunch. Far from well-rounded, their characters present but quirky snippets, and apart from Don, their accents are from further south than Sheffield. Primarily, though, they’re music-makers, anyway. Jim Doah gives us an interesting Edwin who carries himself with the insecure, stiff, awkward posture of an IT Crowd’s Moss. Elliott Mackenzie’s long-haired Cyril brings Bill Bailey to mind, while Robin Harris’s Steve insists on calling everyone Charlie. The three play pleasingly together as the nonchalant, side-stepping Shadows and create a little fun and sunshine in their characters and interactions. Non-instrumentalist George Jones seems more troubled, uneasy and somewhat detached, though, as main instigator Don, and connects least with other characters and audience. His love interest, Barbara, nicely played by Fanta Barrie, disguises well as a fourteen-year-old Bob who’s later revealed to be a runaway American singing star, but their romance doesn’t really convey any spark.
Along the way, the busmen rescue the three singers of Do Re Mi from their smoking Mini, two girls, and a chap who eventually falls for Edwin. The harmonious blend of singing from the whole cast together is mightily good, the more the merrier. But it’s Jane McCarry’s Stella and Damian Humbley’s Jerry who are the run-away stars of the show, delighting and amusing at every turn and in every guise. Their comedic and musical talents, their heart-and-soul, riveting performances and massive stage presence are a joy, and as a double act, they’re brilliant. McCarry’s portrayal of a stereotypical, loud-mouthed, hysterical, domineering, American showbiz mom is outstanding, whether dressed in turban and yellow, fur-edged negligee, in fur-coat, or in full-on, frilly, red flamenco dress. Meanwhile the smartly dressed, more patient agent, Jerry, is ever ready to burst into action for her. The pair are hilarious, too, as Swiss border guards and Italian policemen and at circling, flamenco-clad on a shiny scooter.
Everyone’s up at the end, of course, to join in with asking, Do You Wanna Dance? and to sing a final, sunny burst of Summer Holiday.
Eileen Caiger Gray
Summer Holiday is at the Crucible, Sheffield until Sat 18 July, then transfers to Blackpool Grand Theatre from Weds 29 July to Sat 8 August.
