REVIEW: JACKIE THE MUSICAL @ THE REGENT, STOKE

I am at the time in my life when nostalgia is an ever growing comfort,  as my body ages and the world around me changes, I take pleasure in memories of the past. A time we all perceive I suppose as generally being simpler and happier. Thus the music of the 70s and 80s is particularly potent for me, as those were the decades where I first discovered pop music – principally through sitting in front of the telly on a Thursday night viewing Top Of The Pops.  In the mid-70s this would mean a wealth of glam rock bands such as The Sweet and Slade, with heart-throbs of the day being David and Donny.  No surnames are necessary if you lived through it!  So when a musical comes along purporting to celebrate this very era,  I naturally have to sit up and listen.

In this case, the pivot is the legendary teenage girls magazine Jackie.  Between 1964 and 1993 the magazine dispensed love advice through photo strips, produced pin ups of the latest music sensations and generally offered solutions to problems any teenage girl might have.  It has manifested itself into a cult piece of nostalgia with compilations of the magazine being released each Christmas in a hard back book and CDs full of music from when the magazine was at its peak – the 1970s.  So the brand name is instantly recognisable to a generation in middle age, and they turned out in force in Stoke, ready to relive the decade that taste forgot.

Jackie is a 54 year old divorcee with a teenage son who finds boxed up back issues of her namesake magazine whilst getting ready to downsize.  As she casts her mind back to the days when she purchased said magazine,  she connects to her teenage self who materialises to offer advice from the sidelines, albeit love advice based on what she had read in Jackie.  So the scene is set for older Jackie to try and find a path to love once more aided – or hindered – by those around her whilst justifying herself to the teenage apparition.

Well, on paper it sounds pretty lame I agree, but the thing is it works.  Principally because this show knows exactly where it is aiming its music and gags:  those that were there and have lived,  and understand every moment of her self doubt, regret and love of 1970s fashions and sounds.

Janet Dibley doesn’t possess the strongest voice of the night, but manages to convince as the decades challenged eponymous heroine,  and gives us a rounded character that the audience readily relate to.  Daisy Steere brings a cheeky innocence to the younger Jackie,  but the main hit of the evening seemed to be Michael Hamway as Jackie’s 19 year old son David.  His infectious energy, fine rock voice and thrusting hips made his version of T-Rex’s ‘Twentieth Century Boy’ perhaps the highlight of the evening.   Bob Harms as sexy club owner Frankie gets a rousing cheer as he launches into ‘Puppy Love’.  There is strong support too from Trica Adele-Turner as Jackie’s ex-husbands new squeeze and also Lori Haley Fox as best friend Jill.  Both ladies possess great charisma and can rock it with the best of them. Jackie’s love rivals, ex husband John (Graham Bickley) and internet date Max (Nicholas Bailey) are no slouches either.  Both possess fine voices and make the most of their solo chances to shine. Essentially this is an ensemble show, and everyone from dancers to band ensured it was a high energy evening to remember.  Arlene Phillips choreography echoes all the embarrassing dance moves we were all guilty of performing, with platform boots and bell bottom jeans among the hideous fashions that somehow we believed were cool.

 

Unusually, the posters do not advertise any of the songs included in the show.  As the biggest selling point this puzzled me,  but I realised when watching it that this is perhaps because quite a lot of the songs might be unrecognisable to the younger elements. There are no mega hits from ABBA or Queen for that matter. But if you were there you will have no trouble in recognising the songs. Vintage radio fodder such as as the David Essex number one ‘Hold Me Close’, The Osmonds’ ‘Crazy Horses’,  Barry Blue’s ‘Dancing On A Saturday Night’ and the frustratingly catchy Mud classic ‘Tiger Feet’.  The rousing finale of ‘No More Tears (Enough Is Enough)’ packs a mighty punch to delight the 70s hungry crowd and had them on their feet and yelling for more.

I doubt this will ever play the West End, but equally I don’t think it is meant to. It delivers to an audience who are happy to be transported back to the pop culture of 1970s Britain and recognise in the characters something of themselves.  If like me the 70s is an era of rose tinted magic, I can recommend this show wholeheartedly.