BWW Reviews: GYPSY, Savoy Theatre, April 16, 2015

Ready or not, here comes Imelda! Gypsy's long overdue to the West End is a no-holds-barred triumph, with a talented cast led by powerhouse Imelda Staunton, immaculate direction and precise design. It is hard to imagine theatre better than this.

Gypsy, with book by Arthur Laurents, lyrics by Stephen Sondheim and music by Jule Styne, is often vaunted as the perfect musical, and it is hard to argue with that. There is not an ounce of fat on the polished libretto, with scene and song perfectly aligned to tell the story of famed undresser Gypsy Rose Lee and her steamroller of a mother, Rose Hovick. First seen in London in 1973 starring Angela Lansbury, the show has appeared on Broadway four times since then; this production, helmed by Jonathan Kent, is the first revival in town - and it is about time. Coming in garlanded in five star reviews from Chichester Festival Theatre, this Gypsy scores on every level.

Anthony Ward's design is smooth and seamless, scenes flowing into one another faultlessly. Similarly, Stephen Mear's choreography never feels dated; his intentionally tired vaudeville routines never drag, and his staging of one of the show's most famous numbers, 'You Gotta Get a Gimmick', brings the house down (performed by the marvellous Anita Louise Combe, Louise Gold and Julie Legrand).

The cast is uniformly sublime: Gemma Sutton balances saccharine sweetness with teenage viciousness winningly - her vaudeville numbers are a genuine delight delicious in their awfulness. Her smashcut to adult, bitter June is keenly observed, down to change in her vocal placement. Peter Davison, new to the production as Rose's henpecked lover Herbie is thoroughly endearing, while still bringing the brio needed for his later scenes. In a revelatory performance is Lara Pulver as the titular Gypsy. Beginning the show as a boyish, charisma black hole, Pulver visibly blossoms into a dominant, proud ecdysiast. This process culminates in 'The Strip' in which Louise 'outs herself' as a woman, in front of an audience. She embraces her sexuality and adulthood, announcing to the crowd that she is not and does not need her mother.

Also worthy of mention are the devastatingly talented and well-marshalled hordes of children that teem across the stage of the Savoy, not a weak link among them, and the suavely charming Dan Burton as Tulsa. Burton and Mear together make 'All I Need is the Girl' a clear highlight of the evening - surely a leading man role is calling the former's name.

The company is led, of course, by the peerless Imelda Staunton. Quickly becoming one of the country's premier interpreters of the work of Stephen Sondheim (Into the Woods, Sweeney Todd), Staunton's performance has somehow grown even stronger since Chichester. Perfectly capturing Rose's Machiavellian coquettishness and playful sexuality, it is her anger that Staunton taps into. Starting at a low simmer, her Rose builds into a towering figure, merciless in her pursuit of stardom. Her blasting renditions of the two act-closing arias, 'Everything's Coming Up Roses' and 'Rose's Turn' are thrilling, chilling and furious; Staunton becomes a tornado, and none can stand in her way.

It is often tempting to try and apply a label to the performances of the various actresses who have played Rose: Ethel was loud, Tyne was cold, Bernadette was sexy, Patti was Patti. Imelda is impossible to box - her Rose is a real person, a woman who loves her children as much as she can. Rose is bitter and full of fire and deeply flawed, and Staunton brings such a tangible humanity to the role, the final scene has never been so affecting.

Gypsy has returned to the West End stage at last - and she is worth the wait.