It is Saturday night at the Ilford Palais, and the warm fug of cigarettes, Brylcream and cheap perfume is coming off the dancefloor. But times are changing: the big band and crooning style favoured by smooth Palais owner Frankie is being challenged by the rise of rock'n'roll, and the social upheavals of the 1960s lurk around the corner. On the cusp of adulthood, polio survivor Julie celebrates her 18th birthday and looks forward to the future, while would-be beau, Tosher, fresh out of borstal, is getting together a band. Into this walks Jamaican sax player Hamilton, whose own dreams of a new life in the UK are about to be rudely shattered.
Taking the form of a bittersweet memory play, Ray Davies' musical - inspired by his own elder sister who died young - is a slender thing but full of wistful charm. It includes several songs that will be familiar to fans of Davies and the Kinks, but not alas Waterloo Sunset. Davies, who has written the story, book, music and lyrics, also stars as the narrator, and there are times when this is too much of a good thing. Inserting himself in the action often slows it down, and though the show gathers momentum in the second half, too much of the evening is pleasant rather than electrifying.
The show and Kerry Michael's production are very good at capturing period, as are the songs, including one witty little ditty that is an unlikely paean to the wonders of new towns, and Stevenage in particular. It's a lovely little show delivered with verve by the excellent cast, but it is not theatrical rock'n'roll.
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