Come From Away

Come From Away is one of my all-time favourite musicals, having seen it multiple times in the West End and on tour, so I arrived at Festival Players’ production with particularly high expectations. This was the first amateur staging of the piece I have seen since the rights became available, and it proved to be an accomplished, thoughtfully realised production of which the company should be immensely proud.

Much credit is due to the production team—Justin Murray, Sam Kirby, Frances Sayer and Jonatan Rosten—who wisely resisted the temptation to simply replicate the professional version, a pitfall into which many amateur productions of well-known titles can easily fall. There were clear stylistic nods to the original staging, but Festival Players ultimately presented a vision that felt distinct, confident and very much their own.

The set was beautifully conceived. From the moment one entered the auditorium, the design established the world of the piece with quiet assurance: a semi-circular cyclorama framed the rear of the stage, painted with a subtle ocean panorama and encircled by an arrangement of dark wooden slats suggestive of a fractured skyline. As the evening progressed, and as the emotional pressure of the narrative intensified, individual slats dropped into the sky space, creating an arresting visual metaphor for the passing of time and the mounting distress of the unfolding events. It was a striking and intelligent piece of stagecraft.

The professional production is rightly celebrated for its economical staging, built around a revolve and a simple arrangement of chairs and tables manipulated by the company. Festival Players instead employed kick-step stools, and this was an inspired choice. They proved highly versatile and were used imaginatively throughout, with some fitted with magnetic telephones and others adapted to hold torches. Considerable thought had clearly gone into how these pieces could function dramatically as well as practically.

There were several moments of genuine brilliance in the visual storytelling. During ‘38 Planes’, for instance, the cast created a powerful image of incoming aircraft by shining torches at varying heights before gradually drawing them into a central focal point, vividly evoking the planes descending into Newfoundland. Equally memorable was the treatment of ‘Prayer’, in which an upturned kick-step stool filled with water became a shared symbol of ritual across the represented faiths: from the sign of the cross, to the pouring of water over hands, to the washing of forearms. It was a beautifully judged sequence.

There were, however, moments where the staging felt overburdened. ‘Me and the Sky’, perhaps one of the most emotionally affecting songs in the score, was accompanied here by a range of visual business that distracted rather than enhanced. Movement and the illumination of lights within metal cups drew focus away from the emotional core of the number, lessening its usual impact. Similarly, both the opening sequence and ‘28 Hours’ felt somewhat over-choreographed, with movement appearing on almost every musical beat and torches flashing to suggest the overhead lights of an aircraft cabin. In sequences such as these, less would indeed have been more.

This is, above all, an ensemble piece, and the cast rose admirably to that challenge. They conveyed the emotional sweep of the story with conviction, and the audience was clearly moved by the collective force of the performance. I was also pleased that the production retained the doubling of roles rather than expanding the cast through single casting. That decision preserved one of the musical’s most impressive theatrical devices: the speed and dexterity with which performers shift between characters, accents and emotional registers. The Newfoundland accents were, on the whole, impressively sustained; some of the American accents were less consistent, and because accent is so important in signalling character, this occasionally caused distraction.

Among the performances, Alan Hays gave a particularly assured and warmly engaging turn as Claude, serving almost as the show’s narrative anchor and establishing an immediate rapport with the audience. Emma Vieceli’s Beverley was also a notable success. Although she chose not to push for the climactic note in ‘Me and the Sky’, she nonetheless communicated the song’s emotional truth with great sincerity, and her scenes involving Beverley’s calls home to Tom were especially affecting.

Matt Wilkinson and Holly Dawson made a wholly convincing Nick and Diane, with an easy chemistry that gave their storyline genuine charm. Wilkinson in particular captured the audience’s affection with a performance of real warmth and sincerity.

The standout performance of the evening, however, came from Andrew Ruddick as Oz and various other roles. Whatever character he inhabited, he appeared entirely at ease, and his stage presence was magnetic throughout. He is one of those performers whose work instinctively draws the eye, and his assurance on stage gave each of his appearances particular distinction.

A special mention must also go to the band. The score is demanding, drawing as it does on Celtic musical traditions and requiring an array of less conventional instrumentation. It was a pleasure to watch the musicians at work, particularly the player handling the various whistles and bagpipe chanter with such flair. The sheer range of instruments on display was remarkable and added enormously to the texture of the performance.

The lighting design was consistently sensitive and effective, making strong use of the plain cyclorama to create atmosphere without overwhelming the action. Sound was, for the most part, strong, although there were one or two signs of first-night uncertainty, with microphones occasionally not live in time. I suspect these minor issues will have settled as the run continued.

Given my admiration for Come From Away, my expectations for this production were undeniably high, and Festival Players met them to a considerable degree. This was a moving, visually imaginative and deeply respectful staging that honoured both the humanity of the story and the emotional complexity at its heart. The company should take great pride in what they have achieved here: a production of sincerity, intelligence and considerable theatrical accomplishment.

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