The Who's Tommy

To mount a fringe production of ‘Tommy’ – the stage version of The Who’s 1969 rock opera – is ambitious: even with the biggest Broadway budget, the batty story of a young deaf, dumb and blind boy who achieves fame playing pinball isn’t going be the easiest thing to realise. This plucky production, the first in London for nearly two decades, doesn’t always make sense of the distinctly odd plot of ‘Tommy’, or find a satisfying theatrical correlative to mad pub-sports skills. Nor is it the slickest display of showmanship. But there is a real sense of fun, and enough feeling to make you just go with it; plus the tunes are obviously cracking.

The four-piece live band can be a tad sluggish and definitely need to crank up the volume in their delivery, but the swooping excesses of Pete Townshend’s score ensure constant toe-tapping, and the odd moment of exhilaration. Judging by the audience, there’s a definite fanbase still willing to part with the grey pound for a chance to see and hear ‘Tommy’ live.

A committed cast of ten bust a collective gut in Michael Strassen’s production, and the choreography by Mark Smith interestingly attempts to stage the ‘inner workings’ of Tommy’s troubled mind – from jerky, stylised physical impressions of trauma to oodles of delightfully loopy, ’60s-style swirling and grooving around the monochrome set.

The chorus may not always be in perfect sync in this nowhere-to-hide intimate staging, but it’s a camply spirited couple of hours. ‘Tommy’ is best enjoyed by simply succumbing to the sheer loopy joy of it all.