Pete Hughes wanted more 'soul' from the touring show of The Commitments 

I was lucky enough to catch the original West End run of The Commitments during its two-year stay at the Palace Theatre, described by Mr James Brown himself as a ‘five star smash hit musical’, and which I am very proud to say featured one of my oldest friends Barnaby Southgate (a former Wantage schoolboy like myself) in the role of geeky pianist James, so I know that this musical has every potential to be a spectacular tour de force.

From the moment the West End show opened, the entire cast, crew and orchestra dazzled with razor-sharp, lightning-quick performances and belted out roof-raising soul hit after hit with brilliant musicianship from many of the cast live on stage (including the aforementioned Mr Southgate).

So when I went to see the touring version currently in Oxford, it was after much hyping and piping about what a great night out it was.

This version of the show has many of the great features of the original: the rapid-fire gags and set changes, some superb musical performances and, of course, massive soul hit after massive soul hit.

What was baffling, though, was the apparent lack of direction throughout.

The original West End show, directed by Jamie Lloyd, maintained the driving rhythm of the first number, You Keep Me Hanging On, over the course of two hours.

Oxford’s offering, by contrast (directed by Caroline Jay Ranger), was strangely limp: Jimmy Rabbitte, the bedroom band managing visionary who hauls the whole band together in novel, film and musical, is supposed to be a devilishly charismatic (if flawed) charmer. Andrew Linnie’s performance as a slightly nervy and meek Rabbit left me wondering why anyone would follow him to the pub, let alone weeks of tortuous rehearsals.

Deco, on the West End, was a frightening factory worker; a great hulk of a man with a beast of a voice waiting to be set free.

Brian Gilligan’s portrayal, meanwhile, comes across as a barely-concealed luvvie who can’t wait to ditch the day job, pull on a pair of tights and bound across the stage.

The one cast member who sat squarely in their role was the bear-like John Currivan as the group’s animal drummer: he was the only one I believed as a convincing kid in 1980s Dublin looking to start a rock band.

Rhys Whitfield did a fine job as geeky James, though of course inferior to my friend’s original performance.

My girlfriend, who never caught the original London show, didn’t need to have seen the superior product to agree with me by the interval that this was a sadly lacklustre performance, not helped by the fact the mics were frequently too quiet.

However, the majority of the audience who apparently came just to sing along to a jukebox musical seemed more than happy, and stood at the end for the obligatory encore of bonus tracks, waving their red wine, swaying in unison, and clapping out of time.

3/5

* The Commitments continues at the New Theatre. atgtickets.com