Bronco Billy The Musical at the Charing Cross Theatre – review

Well, howdy partner and yeehaw, this screen-to-stage musical is bringing a serious dose of Wild West kitsch to the London stage.

Adapted from a largely forgotten 1980 comedy western starring Clint Eastwood and Sondra Locke (the book is by scriptwriter Dennis Hackin), it tells the story of a sharp-shooter who falls for the heiress of a candy business when she winds up joining his travelling show to escape her scheming stepmother. Plot-wise, it sits somewhere between Annie Get Your Gun and Crazy for You, even if musically it falls far below that tier.

The songs, by Chip Rosenbloom and John Torres, with additional lyrics by Michele Brourman, are a patchy collection and there are at least six too many (it commits that cardinal musical sin of communicating every character intention via the medium of cheesy ballad). It’s schmaltzy, saccharine and leans so heavily on cowboy clichés that it’s in danger of choking on its own lasso. But fortunately, Hunter Bird’s production has its tongue planted so firmly in its cheek that it works a strange kind of magic that by the end leaves you smiling as wide as the Grand Canyon (look, if you can’t beat them, join them on the platitudes I say).

A huge part of its charm is thanks to the wondrous cast, who imbue the show with more star power than it deserves. In the central roles, Tarinn Callender and Emily Benjamin provide a clear reminder of their West End creds, combining accomplished vocals with a comedic touch and convincing chemistry. Callender’s baritone brings real richness to numbers such as “I’m Gonna Be Strong” and “It’s Just a Dance” (the programme doesn’t contain a list of song titles, so I’m making some assumptions here), while Benjamin’s Antoinette shows why she was recently round the corner playing Sally Bowles.

They’re well supported by other members of the travelling troupe in Henry Maynard’s clown Lefty, Helen K Wint and Aharon Rayner’s lovable couple Lorraine and Joe, Josh Butler’s lasso-twirling Leonard and Karen Mavundukure’s straight-talking ringmaster Doc Blue – whose stirring delivery of “Stand Up” is a highlight. But the undoubted show-stealer is Victoria Hamilton-Barritt, who channels a dash of the late great Chita Rivera in her riotously villainous turn as Constance, living up to every wicked stepmother trope there ever was as she plots the assassination of Antoinette alongside her lawyer (Chris Jared), son-in-law (Silas Wyatt-Barke) and the worst hitman in history (Alexander McMorran).

The set design by Amy Jane Cook is suitably carnivalesque and features a Priscilla-sized bus that revolves with dizzying regularity and provides the scene for many of the circus ‘family’ gatherings, as they traverse the States in pursuit of Hollywood fame. Sarah Mercade’s colourful costumes reflect the score’s heady mix of pop, soul, country and disco (with a heavy dash of Zippo thrown in). And the band, under musical director Marcus Carter-Adams, is excellent – a particular shout out to Nik Carter’s soaring sax.

The constituent parts are all pretty stellar. Give this company a show from the golden age, and I’ve no doubt they could win a West End transfer. But as it stands, it’s more of a curio – albeit a clearly well-funded one. Still, as a way to clear the winter blues, you could certainly do a lot worse, and when Billy and his crew croon “Ride with Us” with such enthusiasm, you’re left with little choice but to jump aboard.