Singin’ in the Rain at Manchester’s Royal Exchange – review

The Royal Exchange’s Singin’ in the Rain opens like a perfectly wrapped Christmas present – one you didn’t know you wanted, but you’re definitely not returning it come January. It’s nostalgic enough to feel cosy, clever enough to feel fresh, and brimming with wit, style and talent.  

From the moment the band strikes up that unmistakable MGM shimmer, the production glides confidently between homage and reinvention. The in- the- round staging proves a delightful playground, turning the Exchange into a snow globe of tap shoes, twinkling lights and old-Hollywood glitz. Director Raz Shaw leans into the season’s sentimentality, gifting us a show that sparkles like a Christmas bauble and the fizz and pop of a vintage champagne. 

As Don Lockwood, Louis Gaunt brings a winning mix of matinee-idol swagger and self-mocking charm, making it easy to believe he could woo an entire city, let alone one plucky ingénue. From the moment he steps on stage it’s game on – and Gaunt delivers a performance that would bring a Broadway audience to their feet.  

Carly Mercedes Dyer shines as Kathy Selden, balancing sweetness with steel; her vocals land with the kind of crystalline clarity usually reserved for Christmas morning frost. Lina Lamont is a role that, in the wrong hands, is all nasal gimmick and no grit. Laura Baldwin turns her into a glorious shiny cracker, sparkling with mischief and vanity, stealing scenes with a perfectly weaponised squeak and singin’ like a slinky strangulated cat. Danny Collins as Cosmo Brown is all quicksilver energy with perfect comedic delivery and is a wonderfully lithe dancer. 

It doesn’t just rain… its pours. It rains enough to make the front row wish they had brought towels and brollies. The famous title number becomes both a technical flex and a childlike explosion of joy. It’s an irresistible reminder that sometimes the simplest stage trick, executed with absolute commitment, is pure enchantment. It’s the kind of first act ending that makes you crave pressing rewind so you can watch it again and again.  

The choreography is crisp without feeling mechanical, the ensemble tight-knit and exuberant. There are a couple of pacing drizzles in act two, where narrative necessity slightly dampens momentum, but the production rebounds with a tap-dancing gusto and a flux of rubber garments that would not look out of place in Shaw’s The Producers, his previous Christmas foray at the Royal Exchange. 

What makes this Singin’ in the Rain feel particularly festive isn’t just the seasonal programming but the show’s wholehearted embrace of joy. In a season where we’re encouraged to indulge in a bit of magic, this production does exactly that. It leaves you humming, smiling, and wondering if it’s socially acceptable to spin a brolly down Deansgate on a wet Mancunian press night.