Kiss of the Spider Woman musical at Curve, Leicester and on tour – review

Kiss of the Spider Woman returns to the stage in a strikingly intimate and emotionally grounded revival, co-produced by Curve, Bristol Old Vic and Mayflower Southampton. Stripped of spectacle, this production pares the musical back to its political and emotional core, uncovering a version that feels raw and immediate, with a quietly devastating effect.

Set almost entirely within a prison cell during Argentina’s “Dirty War” dictatorship, an era marked by mass detention and enforced disappearances, the staging uses minimalism to sharpen its impact. Director Paul Foster embraces the confinement of the setting, using the claustrophobia to intensify rather than limit the drama. The result is a piece that trusts the material and its performers to do the heavy lifting.

At its centre is the enforced proximity between two prisoners: Molina, a gay window-dresser jailed for gross indecency, and Valentin, a committed political activist. Initially divided by ideology and temperament, their relationship develops slowly and credibly, shaped by suspicion, friction and, ultimately, shared vulnerability.

Fabian Soto Pacheco delivers a beautifully layered performance as Molina, flamboyant yet rich with sensitivity and humour. Avoiding easy stereotypes, he presents a character whose warmth and imagination function as both shield and a means of survival. Opposite him, George Blagden brings steely conviction to Valentin, gradually allowing cracks to appear as the character’s rigid certainties soften. Their evolving dynamic feels earned rather than inevitable, anchoring the production with genuine emotional weight.

Moments of relief from the brutal prison reality arrive courtesy of Aurora (and her Spider Woman persona), played with magnetic authority by Anna-Jane Casey. These apparitions work as more than fantasy interludes, serving as psychological necessities that embody escape, desire and dread. Andrzej Goulding’s video and screen design comes into its own here, layering classic cinema imagery, stylised film sets and the looming presence of the Spider Woman. The projections expand the visual world without overpowering it, underscoring fantasy as something that feels seductive, but fragile. Casey inhabits these sequences with glamorous precision, her spider-like physicality shifting seamlessly between allure and menace.

The design team reinforces the fact vs fantasy contrast throughout. David Woodhead’s stark prison set, all bars, beds and bare functionality, feels deliberately unyielding, while Gabriella Slade’s costumes and Howard Hudson’s lighting introduce vivid shifts whenever Molina’s imagined worlds intrude. Musically, John Kander and Fred Ebb’s score is delivered with clarity and emotional precision under the musical direction of Dan Glover. Each number emerges organically, enhancing the narrative. Joanna Goodwin’s choreography favours sophistication over spectacle, ensuring movement remains rooted in character and emotional truth.

What lingers most, however, is the production’s refusal to soften its ending. The final moments are unsettling rather than cathartic, leaving the audience with ambiguity instead of release. By denying easy answers, the revival insists that love, compassion and human connection remain acts of resistance, even in the face of fear and brutality.