Midnight at the Never Get with Ben Platt at Menier Chocolate Factory – review

At the Never Get nightclub in New York, a cabaret singer is remembering his lost love and erstwhile collaborator, a composer who died only that morning. But memory plays tricks in this tender and bittersweet play with songs from Mark Sonnenblick, first seen Stateside back in 2018 and now making its UK premiere.

The main attraction is Ben Platt, who brings every lumen of his significant star wattage to the role of Trevor Copeland, the aforementioned singer. Taking to the stage in a brown lounge suit, he commands the intimate space, arranged in suitably cabaret fashion, from his first utterance of opening number “Mercy of Love” to the poignant final rendition alongside Barry James as his older self.

Sweat pours off him as he takes us through the troubled tale of Trevor and his relationship with the celebrated Arthur Brightman, who accompanies on the piano, superbly played by Gregor Milne as the quieter, more cerebral foil. As Arthur tinkles the baby grand, Trevor pours his heart into every one of his songs, which span witty patter numbers and soaring duets. The story starts in the ’60s but extends to encompass the ’80s AIDS epidemic. Although the narrative feels overly-familiar, and at points Sonnenblick’s book is decidedly overwritten, Platt and Milne make a lovable enough pair to override such quibbles.

It’s above all a superb showcase for Platt’s musical talents, that trembling falsetto, so familiar from Dear Evan Hansen, put to plentiful use in songs that may lack a standout earworm but certainly tell the story with style. He also shows his mastery of whimsy and comedy, notably in the number “Boy in Blue”, about a romance with a police officer (“I won’t forget his number, it’s 911”), riffing on the fact homosexuality was illegal at the time. At one point, the (excellent) band is briefly unveiled on the side stage as the pair dance gracefully around the audience, Lynne Page’s choreography calling to mind the golden age of Astaire and Kelly.

Sonnenblick, whose own trajectory has gone on to mirror his fictional creation Arthur’s, having recently won an Oscar for this work on KPop Demon Hunters, explores the tensions around the artistry of songwriting (Arthur wants to create Cole Porter-esque “crystals of emotion”, whereas Trevor’s own number “My Song” is pure pop vibe). There’s also a real authenticity underscoring the direction of David Cromer, himself a New Yorker, and detailed design of Scott Pask (there are ashtrays with stubbed out ends on the tables). Even the fact the Menier Chocolate Factory is currently undergoing refurbishment feels fitting.

This is a rare opportunity to see a singular talent at the top of his game giving full virtuoso flex to material that feels ripe with embryonic potential. And, although I found the protracted denouement a little too saccharine for my palate, there’s no question that when Platt and James blast out “My Song” with the defiance that only battle-scarred lovers can, it’s a moment you’ll be glad to say you saw.