The London Theatre Review: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button – the Musical

By Ross

With an unexpected Irish flair, in both music and storytelling, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button – The Musical comes to vivid life on a foggy wharf lit up by flashlights and the engaging tones of Ireland. Time and tide behave a bit differently in this fascinatingly engaging tale that doesn’t really resemble the 2009 David Fincher movie of the same name, nor, I am told, the 1922 F. Scott Fitzgerald short story. But with musicians taking to the stage to divine us through, the shared formula is that one life, the life of Benjamin Button, is lived most captivatingly in reverse.

It’s a curious case, we are told to the accompaniment of all those beautifully played guitars, violins, horns, piano, drums, and a strongly engaged accordion, created to unpack his lifespan starting with his birth as an elderly man, fully dressed in a three-piece suit, and hat, courtesy of costume designer Anna Kelsey (Watermill’s Our Town), to the vanished regression of an infant slowly losing his skills and words. It’s a compelling backward stroll, that lovingly draws us in with the singing of a sorrowful song, as a Mother only sees in her child, a monster, and a Father who has to grapple with this ‘aberration’ that stares sweetly up at him after his wife abandoned them both by way of a cliff.

The framing is beautifully engaged with, delivering direct comments about this elderly man/infant dressed so neatly in his suit without trying to avoid the discomfort. As directed and set designed by the thoughtful Jethro Compton (The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance) who also penned the book and lyrics alongside the orchestrator and arranger Darren Clark (Watermill’s The Wicker Husband), who in turn shares the music supervisor, orchestrations, and arranger credit with the musical director Mark Aspinall (Birmingham Rep’s Sinatra), The Curious Case of Benjamin Button – The Musical is lovingly tender and musically compelling. The tale, relocated to a small Cornish fishing village in 1918, leads us strongly forward, laying out a landscape of villagers and their stories that play with numerous chains of events that have importance to the story. It’s a sharply defined construct, with the chapters of this rewind life sauntering strongly across that well-formed stage, beautifully brought to life by Compton, the lighting design of Zoe Spurr (West End’s Bonnie and Clyde), and the sound design by Autograph Sound’s Luke Swaffield (London’s The Bear Snores On).

The cast is profoundly and energetically engaging, playing all the instruments while taking on non-gender conforming role choices magnificently in order to help the tale move along. The Celtic-themed music draws us in, catching but also somewhat hard to hold on to, finding a glorious Irish flavor in the unwrapping and rewinding of this tightly refined production and inspired staging. Led by the wide-eyed innocence of John Dagleish (Old Vic’s Sylvia) as the title character, who effortlessly takes our heart on the backward ride through his stormy complicated life. It’s touching and connecting, this man and his life. But it’s Clare Foster (West End’s Best of Enemies) as the love of his life, Elowen Keene, who takes him and us in wholeheartedly and captivates all completely. Their engaging connection is palpable, touching, and energetic, with the rest of this talented crew of actors creating the beautifully crafted landscape for them all to live, drink, and dance upon, thanks to the fine work of choreographer Chi-San Howard (Globe’s Cymbeline).

Delivered forth by a dynamic crew of actors: Matthew Burns, Jonathan Charles, Oonagh Cox, Katy Ellis, Anna Fordham, Philippa Hogg, Damien James, Elliot MacKenzie, Ann Marcuson, Jack Quarton, and Benedict Salter, they each find and put forth their perfect ingredients to the unspooling of this curious case, guided through the paces most fascinatingly clever and concise. Each actor plays multiple characters and an assortment of instruments, singing beautifully and taking us through the tale most expertly. There are moments that linger, playing with our emotionality most magically, but other times, like the message in a bottle fantasy, feel forced, overly sentimental, and problematic. But the chapters flip onward and backward, holding us in its more tender (by the day) hand, making The Curious Case of Benjamin Button -The Unordinary Musical, a surprising treasure, washing itself up on the Irish shores with more heart and engagement than one needs, embracing us all in its energizing Irish spirit.