Review – The Choir of Man – Theatre Royal Brighton and National Tour

There are shows that entertain, and then there are shows that feel like an open invitation—to laugh, to sing, and to share in something quietly profound. The Choir of Man is firmly the latter: a five-star triumph that transforms a simple premise into one of the most uplifting nights you can have in a theatre.

Set inside a worn but friendly pub, the production wastes no time making you feel at home. There’s no stiffness or sense of distance—just an immediate warmth that draws you in. By the time the first song begins, you’re no longer simply watching, you’re part of the gathering, and some of the audience have already visited the onstage pub for a drink, or two.

This current touring company is a particularly strong one, led not by a single dominant presence but anchored emotionally by Oluwalonimi (Nimi) Owoyemi as The Poet. Thoughtful, observant, and quietly compelling, the Poet becomes the thread that ties the evening together, offering moments of reflection that give the show its depth. Around him, a superb ensemble—Gustav Melbardis (Maestro), Levi Tyrell Johnson (Hard Man), Ben Mabberley (Joker), Rob Godfrey (Beast), Jack Skelton (Handyman), Niall Woodson – standing in for Joshua Lloyd (Barman), Sam Ebenezer – in for Sam Walter (Romantic), and Aaron Pottenger (Bore)—creates a vivid and recognisable cross-section of personalities.

What’s striking is how each performer is given room to shine, yet the group always feels together. Vocally, the cast is outstanding. The harmonies are tight, inventive, and often exhilarating, breathing new life into a playlist that ranges from classic rock to modern pop. More importantly, every song feels sincere. Nothing is overworked or overly polished; instead, there’s a natural ease that makes each number land with genuine impact. Songs like ‘Chandelier’, ‘The Impossible Dream’, ‘500 Miles’, ‘Escape (The Pina Colada Song)’ and ‘You’re The Voice’ are at the heart of an eclectic musical mixture.

Physically, the show is just as dynamic. This is theatre in constant motion. The cast leap across tables, drum rhythms into the set, and transform everyday pub objects into instruments. It’s energetic without ever becoming chaotic, carefully choreographed while still feeling spontaneous and alive.

Between the songs, it’s the Poet who gently draws the audience inward. His spoken passages, delivered with simplicity and honesty, touch on loneliness, friendship, and belonging. These moments never feel forced or sentimental; instead, they land with quiet authenticity. Through his perspective, the pub becomes more than a setting—it becomes a refuge, a place where people can be seen and understood.

There’s also a refreshing portrayal of modern masculinity at the heart of the show. Here, men are allowed to be open, affectionate, and emotionally expressive while still retaining humour and camaraderie. It’s a quietly progressive element, presented without being fussy or heavy-handed.

Audience interaction plays an important role in sustaining the evening’s atmosphere. Whether through singing, laughing, clapping, or even being invited up onto the stage, the line between that stage and the auditorium gradually fades and, by the end, it feels less like a performance and more like a shared experience.

What lingers after the final bow is not just the music (though that alone would be worth the ticket price) but the sense of connection. In a world that often feels disconnected, The Choir of Man offers something simple and powerful: the joy of coming together. Exuberant, heartfelt, and genuinely life-affirming, it’s an experience that you just don’t want to end.

*****    Five stars