It is perhaps tempting fate to put on a play revolving around the theme of an old-fashioned theatre’s dying in a place like Chichester, renowned for its, shall we say, ageing demographic. But the delicious irony of Martin Connor’s production is that this is a musical that celebrates youth and a new way of doing things, yet contains so many reference's to actors, performers and society figures of the 1930s, that many songs would be unintelligible to anyone under 50.

Fortunately, Babes in Arms contains more than its fair share of superb Richard Rodgers’ tunes, as well as a reminder that Lorenz Hart was perhaps Broadway’s supreme lyricist. This is the original “let’s do the show right here in the barn” musical made famous by the Judy Garland/Mickey Rooney film. Those who know it from the movie version will be in for a shock, though - the stage version bears little resemblance to what appeared on screen.

That hasn’t stopped Chichester tapping into the Judy Garland connection by using her daughter, Lorna Luft, to play the domineering mother of former child star Baby Rose Owens, energetically played by Sophia Ragavelas. Luft, wrapped in a vivid purple and looking like a cross between Joan Collins and Mrs Slocombe, is given two songs that were neither in the original production nor in the film version, and while she was a bit uncertain on some of the top notes on press night, she has her mother’s charisma and vocal powers. In fact, the women dominate the show. Donna Steele’s Billie outshine’s Mark McGee’s rather wooden Valentine and the best performance of the night comes from Kay Murphy as the sparky Dolores.

Babes in Arms is a hard show to dislike: the songs could hardly be bettered, the dancing is good and there’s some slick choreography (including a Stomp-like routine) from Bill Deamer and it’s pretty well sung. Sure the acting ranges from average to dreadful, but you don’t usually expect great acting in a musical.

There are two major downsides however: the wit of the script seems to have been lost somewhere along the way and there are precious few laughs. Connor misses a real opportunity to send up The Deep North, the dreadful, pretentious play that the apprentices hijack. Only Ralf Saxon’s malapropism-spouting philistine of a manager finds some humour. His mangling of the Gettysburg address gets the biggest laugh of the night. The second is that the show has lost some of its political bite, it’s kept in the 1930s references but has lost some of the impact of a play that reflects an America emerging from a depression and about to enter a war.

It’s fair to say that the audience loved it – even earning a standing ovation from some sections. But for my money it would have been even better if Connor had been a bit more ambitious.

- Maxwell Cooter