Fully addressing the dramaturgical flaws might require cutting 40 minutes and 10 songs, probably including the only one that currently carries real emotional clout, Mother of Thieves, a thrilling, mad-scene piece brilliantly delivered by Lena Cruz as Sisa. This encapsulates the show’s frustrations: despite compelling passages and five truly convincing performers (in a cast of over 20), these highlights are diluted by out-of-focus story-telling, substandard songs and amateurish performances.
The two leads aren’t working. Miguel Castro deploys a robust voice as Ibarra, but his acting is about as wooden as the set, partly thanks to his character being charmlessly, relentlessly self-righteous and a nudge thick. Susana Downes brings a brittle voice to his on-again-off-again flame, Maria Clara, and the curse of some of the most overwrought songs. Their melodramatic affair lacks emotional sophistication.
When McFadden’s best music – usually his more complex and agitated work – is performed by the stronger singers we see the show’s potential. Chris Hamilton and David Hooley excel as the two dastardly friars, Sean Perez admirably realises the most intriguing character, Ibarra’s friend Tasio, and Marcus Rivera portrays the fiercely committed rebel Elias without resort of exaggeration.
Dancers (choreographed by Novy Bereber) intermittently twirl into seemingly the wrong show, and Deirdre Burges’ set (accommodating McFadden’s pedestrian septet) is striking enough, while, like the creators, narrowing director Aarne Neeme’s options.
Until April 6.