BWW Reviews: ASSASSINS, Menier Chocolate Factory, December 1 2014

"The Menier has done it again" is a phrase you may well have seen if you've spent any time perusing theatre messageboards; more than other spaces, the Chocolate Factory tends to be afforded most of the praise for a production that's well-received, rather than the individuals involved at times. That said, and in the interests of giving credit where it's due, the London fringe's finest musicals of 2012 and 2013 (Merrily We Roll Along and The Color Purple respectively) came from there, so perhaps this reputation and weight of expectation are understandable.

Bearing that weight currently is Jamie Lloyd's production of Stephen Sondheim and John Weidman's Assassins, the kind of show that, with its precise historical reference points and barely pronounceable surnames, makes you feel smarter just for looking at it. A certain degree of familiarity with the circumstances surrounding successful and failed assassination attempts of Presidents of the USA is assumed, and while I can't claim to have that, for 110 minutes I rather felt like I did.

One thing is for certain: you'll never see the Menier's theatre looking the same twice; this time, we enter a dank carnival through a gaping mouth, manoeuvre around past a disused dodgem containing Jamie Parker's Balladeer and sit beneath a tangled mess of lightbulbs, between giant 'HIT' and 'MISS' signs and await the assembly of some of history's more notorious figures. Even before the performance begins, Soutra Gilmour and Neil Austin's set and lighting design have dazzled, suggesting we may well be in for something special.

And we are: what follows is a tightly-coiled, tense two hours (give or take) during which you're never sure where the next gunshot might come from and quietly hope everyone around you jumped as much as you did; there are laughs (mostly thanks to Catherine Tate as Sara Jane Moore, excellent if familiar), but at its most effective, the production offers tangible glimpses into the dark corners of the human psyche and asks potent questions about the lengths people will go to just to be noticed.

The cast is exemplary: standouts from what is a tremendous ensemble include Simon Lipkin, whose clown-like Proprietor is, with his constant expression of sinister bewilderment, equally disturbing and disturbingly adorable, while Jamie Parker's affable whimsy as The Balladeer contrasts beautifully with his anguished Lee Harvey Oswald. Meanwhile, bona fide Broadway golden boy Aaron Tveit exudes charisma and egotism as John Wilkes Booth, all the while sounding terrific, and he's matched in the vocal stakes by Carly Bawden as Charles Manson devotee Lynette 'Squeaky' Fromme.

There really isn't a weak link on display though, and from the disorienting Opening to the stunning final moments - Something Just Broke is beautifully played, while the Finale's final seconds are nerve-shredding - Assassins plays out like a masterclass in intelligent, vital, classy musical theatre.

Or to put it another way, the Menier has done it again.

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