Burlesque The Musical takes a gay cult classic and turns it into one helluva show

In a West End that’s crowded with naff stagings of nostalgic films, from Clueless to Hercules, the Savoy Theatre’s Burlesque The Musical stands out from the pack for featuring significantly fewer clothes and a lot more sass. It’s based on a fairly terrible 2010 movie that was shredded by critics – then became a gay cult classic, thanks to Christina Aguilera and Cher’s entertainingly campy, leather lingerie-clad central turns. Now, writer Steven Antin and mammoth songwriting team of Aguilera, Sia, Todrick Hall and Jess Folley have given this messy source material a thorough once-over. And it scrubs up surprisingly well, enlivened by endless queer in-jokes, spectacular burlesque routines from both male and female dancers, and a naked desire to give audiences what they want.

The plot here is flimsier than a boylesque dancer’s thong. Originally played by Aguilera, Ali is a small-town Iowa girl who ventures into big, bad New York City in search of the mother she never met. There, she meets Tess (originally played by Cher), the bossy, no-nonsense matriarch of a burlesque club, who’s battling her dastardly English ex-husband to save her business from financial ruin. In true Muppet movie style, the answer is to put on one helluva show, with singing, dancing, and bum-waggling galore.

Everything about this story is deeply predictable. But oddly, it doesn’t feel boring, thanks to fantastic vocal performances and plenty of metaphorical and literal fireworks. As Ali, Folley has a refreshing edge, her faintly jarring gawky mannerisms in the first act giving way to formidable vocal power as she finds her inner diva (“I will not be upstaged by some slut with mutant lungs,” hisses fuming club queen bee Nikki). And as Tess, Orfeh has a strong, strident alto voice, belting through numbers that deserve more time to unfold.

Still, these two stars are outdiva-d by musician and American Idol star Hall, who leaps out of what could be a “gay best friend” role and into the limelight – he even took over from original director Nick Winston on direction and choreography after the show’s earlier tryouts in Manchester and Glasgow. Here, he drags up as Ali’s hometown choir mistress Miss Loretta, delivers lessons in burlesque as club worker Sean, and fills up this show’s running time with an excess of glibly written comic numbers like “Don’t Make Me Sing”. Arguably, he’s slightly too present in the first half (”My back’s aching from carrying the whole show,” he complains, with a hopefully self-aware narcissism) but when he retreats, other performers show their worth: especially Asha Parker-Wallace as Nikki, who brings so much unexpected complexity to her underwritten enemy-to-friend trajectory.

Burlesque has had a complicated journey into the West End. Its production process was hurried up so it could fill a surprise slot at the Savoy Theatre; before it opened, rumours swirled of unfinished costumes or previews that ran dangerously close to four hours. But on current evidence, it feels pretty slick, full of crowd-pleasing moments like a Chippendales-style male strip routine, and peppy recreations of TikTok memes. It’s been made with obvious (if arguably misguided) love for its source material, and a palpable desire to open it up to the queer community who saw their lives reflected in this nominally heterosexual story. And most importantly of all, it’s genuinely fun to watch. It might be skimpy, but it covers all the bases it needs to.