Matthew Bourne's The Midnight Bell at THEATRE ROYAL PLYMOUTH

An evening of passionate dance, drama and deep emotion.

Matthew Bourne and New Adventures have long dazzled audiences with inventive reimagining’s of classic ballet's, be it the all-male retelling of Swan Lake, wartime Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty with vampires! These productions have stood out for their accessible storytelling, striking visuals and bold interpretations. As someone who doesn't typically gravitate towards traditional ballet, I’ve always found Bourne's work thrilling and approachable, each piece being a vibrant, emotional journey that not only captivates seasoned audiences but also warmly welcomes newcomers to the world of ballet. So, I arrived at The Midnight Bell with genuine curiosity and no prior expectations. This time, however, I found myself more challenged than enchanted.

Set in 1930s London, the piece unfolds mostly within and around a pub called The Midnight Bell, where a collection of lonely hearts each haunted by desire, regret, or obsession act out interweaving tales of love gone awry. Inspired by Patrick Hamilton’s novels Twenty Thousand Streets Under the Sky and Hangover Square, the show is inspired by the characters and themes of the novels rather than presenting a direct adaptation. My unfamiliarity with Hamilton’s work may have hindered my understanding, as the narrative felt confusing and at times difficult to follow.

The score captured the spirit of its era, ranging from gentle jazz and playful piano to sweeping romantic strings. The music resembled a soundtrack from the silent movie era, complete with the warm, nostalgic crackle of a vintage gramophone. Though it fit the atmosphere, the music occasionally felt repetitive and lacked any dramatic build that you might expect during emotional peaks. A unique feature was the use of lip-synced love songs, performed by the dancers at key moments. These musical soliloquies where characters stepped out of the choreography to ‘sing’ directly to the audience were initially fresh and an interesting choice but grew less effective with repetition. What could have been moving or theatrical often drew chuckles instead, undermining the intended emotional depth.

Visually, the production was beautifully restrained. A dimly lit, grey-washed set complete with iron gates, cobbled streets and looming chimneys created a dreary London backdrop. The glowing pub sign reading ‘Midnight’ with a faintly lit bell beneath it, stays on stage throughout much of the show, suggesting that every story being told starts and maybe ends at The Midnight Bell. A dim, moody lighting design dominated the stage, with the rare burst of brightness coming only from a rear spotlight that focused in on key characters or moments.

Credit: Johan Persson

 Despite the elegance of the staging and the sheer physical talent on display, the overlapping stories often tangled together. With so many characters and subplots unfolding simultaneously, I found it difficult to keep track of who was who and what their emotional arc was meant to be. One character, George Harvey Bone, portrayed grippingly by Danny Reubens, is shown as a deeply troubled soul, seemingly craving connection but often approaching others in a way that feels unsettling or even menacing. One particular moment near the end of Act 1 sees him enter the stage, clanging an empty glass bottle against the railings. The music abruptly cuts out and is replaced by a piercing, high-pitched screech as his body contorts into a violent spasm. After a long pause, he exits the stage. While it was clear that the character was experiencing inner turmoil, the moment itself felt unclear, leaving several audience members, including myself, unsure of its meaning, I did overhear someone behind me ask, “What was that all about?”. It was only after checking the cast list that I discovered George is described as “a romantic with schizophrenia”, something I may not have picked up on from the performance alone. Reubens however delivered a hauntingly beautiful performance and I felt that the choice to incorporate lip-syncing during his narrative proved to be particularly well-suited and impactful.

The standout storyline for me, was the tender and secretive relationship between Frank and Albert, played by Liam Mower and Edwin Ray. Their depiction of forbidden love, set against a backdrop of 1930s societal repression was heartfelt and beautifully danced. Shifting between longing and shame, their chemistry provided the emotional core the wider piece lacked. I found myself wishing the whole production had focused solely on their story, rather than weaving it among several less coherent narratives. I was so drawn in by Liam and Edwin’s chemistry and performances that I could have watched them dance all night.

That’s not to discount the rest of the cast. The company delivered across the board, from the charm of Dominic North to Glenn Graham’s stylish confidence. The choreography was, as expected, immaculate, precise, expressive and full of drama. Even when I found the narrative complex, I was captivated by the sheer talent on stage.

Ultimately, The Midnight Bell is a darker and more thoughtful production compared to some of Bourne’s earlier shows. It focuses on complicated emotions, choosing gentle moments over spectacle. While it didn’t move me in the way earlier works have and I wouldn’t rush to see it again, I’m glad I experienced it. It’s a reminder that Bourne is not only a master of reinterpretation but also unafraid to experiment and take risks and still remains, in my eyes, the master of modern ballet.

⭐⭐⭐

SEAT REVIEW

Venue: Theatre Royal Plymouth

Seat location: Circle, Row B, Seat 23.

This is easily my favourite seat at Theatre Royal Plymouth. It's perfectly centered, offering an excellent view of the stage. Plus, the row in front is set low enough that you won’t have to worry about anyone tall blocking your view.