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8 hours ago
10
Johannes Radebe (AKA Jojo from Strictly) is a born performer. He is utterly magnetic on stage, and when he’s dancing you can’t take your eyes off him. The role of the drag queen Lola in Kinky Boots could have been written for Radebe, whose entrances alone are a thing to behold – rising from a trapdoor, say, draped in a floor-length crimson gown and wearing a curly blond wig, part Diana Ross, part Whitney Houston. The musical is based on the 2005 film inspired by the real-life story of a troubled Northampton shoe factory that switches to making thigh-high boots for drag queens. It’s a riot of feathers and sparkle, with designers Robert Jones and Tom Rogers going all out on the costumes.
The foil to Lola’s otherworldly glamour is the everyman character Charlie Price (usually played by 2010 X Factor winner Matt Cardle, but due to illness, by understudy Liam Doyle on the night I watch). Charlie is likable, directionless, pulled back home from London by the death of his father to reluctantly take over the ailing family business. A chance encounter with Lola and her friends leads to a mad scheme to save the factory, and a bit of culture clash comedy. Kinky Boots approaches gender and sexuality in a warm, good-humoured way, and lightly explores themes of fathers and sons, expectations and acceptance.
Harvey Fierstein’s book offers a fair amount of “tell don’t show” along the way. “We may have been born in a small factory town but I sure as hell don’t intend to stay!” Charlie’s fiance explains. Cyndi Lauper’s lyrics have pop music predictability, although you couldn’t call her paean to stilettos obvious (Sex Is in the Heel). The poppy/rocky energy of Lauper’s songs drives the show, and proves that if you repeat a riff enough it starts to get anthemic, even if they’re not tunes for the ages.
Director Nikolai Foster has everyone do and say the right things, but the show does not have enough moments that lift beyond the literal. When that does happen – for example, when Lola and blokeish antagonist Don (Billy Roberts) are about to duke it out in a boxing match, but first launch into a brief, sizzlingly confrontational pasodoble, the stage lights up.
Radebe isn’t a trained actor, and although he has a rich tone to his voice, singing doesn’t come as naturally to him as dancing. But the stratospheric charisma he has when he’s moving is rare: full beam at the audience, his face animates every moment, and he throws some Latin flair into Leah Hill’s upfront and versatile choreography. In contrast, Radebe delivers a moving rendition of Not My Father’s Son in almost stillness, eyes closed, and it’s a heartfelt moment.
There’s full-throttle support from Courtney Bowman as factory worker Lauren and Scott Paige as foreman George (he’s funny, nails the low notes and has an unexpected sideline in sass). It’s an enjoyable night out, and a brilliantly unlikely story, but in terms of the craft of musical theatre, Kinky Boots leans towards the pedestrian.
