Theatre at its most alive. Unmissable.
In an era when West End productions increasingly rely on film and TV stars to guarantee ticket sales, Sing Street—a beloved film adaptation and Broadway transfer—sounds like another safe bet. Yet, the Lyric Hammersmith’s production crackles with such vitality that it doesn’t just entertain; it ignites. This is theatre at its most alive.
I have never finished the film (oops). Yet within minutes of the stage production, I was utterly swept into its world. No prior knowledge is required—the story’s emotional core lands with the force of a gut punch. From the moment the lights dim, the immersive video design and dynamic choreography pull you into 1980s Dublin, a world both nostalgic and vividly immediate.
What radiates from this ensemble cast is an unfiltered, youthful energy—the kind where every performer pours their entire being into the work. Many are fresh out of drama school or still training, yet their commitment is staggering. Sheridan Townsley embodies Conor with such authenticity – tender and occasionally awkward as a boy, yet transforms into a magnetic rock star when he sings. In the theatre production the unfolding relationship between Conor and Barry (played by Jack James Ryan) also carries a poignant queer subtext that adds layers to the story. All ensemble characters – from the members of the band to everyone in Conor’s family – feel fully realized, their arcs textured and believable. In a story about the layers of a teenager’s reality, every ensemble member breathes life into these layers, making the struggles and triumphs achingly real. Credit must go to casting directors Stuart Burt CDG and Peter Noden for selecting performers who embody these characters with remarkable authenticity, rather than relying on the easy draw of screen stars.
The standout performance is undeniably Adam Hunter’s portrayal of Brendan. Introduced through a haunting movement sequence, he’s a man drowning in disillusionment, numbing himself with TV and weed. Hunter (making his theatre debut with Sing Street) portrays Brendan with breathtaking truthfulness. His two solos are seismic. The first, as he steps tentatively into the Dublin streets, unfolds against fractured projections of the city—his fractured psyche made visceral. The second is a roar of defiance and hope. Hunter’s raw, truthful performance fundamentally reshapes the entire production’s emotional landscape.
Luck Halls’ video Design is another marvel. Live cameras, archival footage, and surreal imagery collide. The opening projection instantly anchors us in time and place, while the live feed turns teenage daydreams into stadium-sized fantasies, blurring the line between reality and aspiration. At the end, TV static melts into ocean waves, echoing the characters’ emotional thaw.
Rebecca Taichman’s masterful staging stitches together physical storytelling, concert adrenaline, and cinematic montage. All elements – choreography, costume design, set, and obviously, music and sound design – construct a stunning whole. With Enda Walsh’s stage adaptation, Rebecca ensures the film story lands in a theatrical space—not as nostalgia, but as something immediate and vital.
By the final number, the entire audience is on their feet, not out of obligation, but because Sing Street earns it. Unmissable.