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This good-hearted but anodyne musical is based on the true story of Malawian boy William Kamkwamba, who at the age of 13 built a windmill to electrify and irrigate his family’s land in the teeth of a famine; he now runs a non-profit organisation.
His memoir about his remarkable life has already been adapted into a 2019 film written, directed by and starring Chiwetel Ejiofor: and now it’s become a sugar-sweet stage story with too many songs by composer Tim Sutton and writer Richy Hughes, who penned the lyrics together. The show passes the time agreeably but little of the music lingers in the ear or the mind, and you feel you’d learn just as much about William from his much shorter TED talk. Because, yes, this is somewhat long-winded.
Lynette Linton’s production for the Royal Shakespeare Company is pleasantly lo-fi, William’s village evoked by the all-singing, all-dancing ensemble, with minimal set and props. Late on there is an appeal that Malawi be seen as “a place of leaders not victims”. But the initial evocation of a genial place full of quaint characters - albeit one where corporate exploitation thrives - feels as reductive as any trauma narrative. Of the songs, played by Ashton Moore’s five-piece band, the ones that stick closest to African ululations and rhythms come over best.
Some urgency is gathered in the second half when the threat of starvation intrudes, personified by the sudden closeness of Shaka Kolokoh’s sinewy, loping hyena. There’s also a brief nod to political corruption and violence when the village chief, the father of William’s feckless best friend, is assaulted.
Part of the problem here is that we know how it ends: it’s literally there in the title. Every step and setback of William’s journey is therefore laboriously plotted, from his first tentative curiosity about a bicycle dynamo to the ingenious way he gets round exclusion from school because his father can’t afford the fees.
His fascination with engineering is seen as a continuation of his parents’ wish to be “modern people” who believe in education and shun the old superstitions. This sits slightly oddly with the fact that the wind is a character here, and William’s husbanding of her power is depicted as a mystical reconnection with the natural world, as opposed to the deforestation wrought by tobacco companies. An implicit criticism of patriarchal norms feels tacked on.
William is played with great charm by Alistair Nwachukwu and his father Trywell with an agonised dignity by Sifiso Mazibuko. As William’s sister, Tsemaye Bob-Egbe unveils a sensational voice in one of the more moving numbers, Whole Day We Cry/Annie’s Letter. The family dynamic is one of the strongest strands of the production, though William seems more upset by the demise of his adopted dog than the near-death of his mother Agnes (Madeline Appiah) from malaria. The canine is ably brought to life by manipulator Yana Penrose, though I confess I’m getting a bit tired of the use of puppet animals to engage an audience’s affection.
A musical set in contemporary Africa with an all-black cast is unusual for the West End, and the fact of it being a true story gives an extra frisson. The real William was brought on stage by his fictional counterpart to join the curtain call at the performance I saw – a moving moment. But the emotional arc of the story feels very much by-the-numbers and many of the songs feel shoehorned in, rather than growing organically from the story. You’ll be passably entertained and maybe slightly inspired if you go to see it, but you won’t be blown away.
To 18 July, sohoplace.org. Tickets here
