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It takes a lot of muscle to bring a Disney titan to the stage — and while Hercules flexes its visual brawn and vocal strength, this new West End production doesn’t quite ascend to Mount Olympus. Packed with spectacle, colour and charm, it delivers plenty to look at, a fair bit to enjoy, but not quite enough to love.

The story remains largely faithful to the beloved 1997 Disney animation. Hercules (Luke Brady), the son of Zeus, is stolen from Mount Olympus as a baby by Hades, the god of the underworld, who plots to seize his brother’s throne. Stripped of his godhood and raised on earth, Hercules grows into a supernaturally strong young man determined to prove himself worthy of rejoining the gods. Along the way, he battles monsters, wrestles with fame, falls for the sardonic Meg (Mae Ann Jorolan), and tries to stop Hades’ plan for celestial domination. So far, so familiar.

But while the bones of the story stay true, the musical takes some risky liberties with the film’s much-loved soundtrack — and not all of them pay off. Fans arriving ready to belt “Go the Distance” will get their moment, but much of the new material feels oddly out of sync with the timeless Alan Menken-David Zippel classics. The fresh additions lack memorable hooks and lyrical wit, clashing with the nostalgia that made the original score soar. Instead of divine inspiration, these songs feel like mortal filler.

Luke Brady’s Hercules is as likeable as ever — earnest, open-hearted, and possessed of a rich, resonant voice that could easily carry a stronger book. Yet the writing of the character is disappointingly thin. There’s little chance for him to show off either his heroic feats or inner turmoil. His emotional journey feels undercooked, and despite Brady’s charisma, this demigod never quite achieves lift-off.

Trevor Dion Nicholas, however, provides the evening’s saving grace as Phil, Hercules’ no-nonsense trainer. Gone is the goat-legged mentor of the film, but Nicholas brings warmth, wit, and a rousing sense of rhythm to the role. His easy command of the stage and sharp comic timing offer the show its most reliable heartbeat.

Stephen Carlile’s Hades is another mixed blessing. Vocally and physically, he’s superb — sleek, sinister, and assured — but the reimagined version of the character feels strangely earthbound. Gone is the camp, flame-haired showman who defined Disney’s villainy; this Hades is darker, drier, more cynical, and far less fun. His blood-red costume and slicked-back hair suggest menace, but not mischief — a tonal shift that leaves the show missing its spark. The decision to replace the cackling henchmen Pain and Panic with Bob (Craig Gallivan) and Charles (Lee Zarrett) only deepens the loss. The duo work hard with thin material, but their humour never quite lands, and the energy of Hades’ underworld takes a nosedive.

Mae Ann Jorolan’s Meg brings a bold, soulful presence, and her vocals — particularly in her solo numbers — cut through the stage with style. Yet the writing overplays her independence, occasionally turning self-assuredness into slogan. When she earnestly tells Hercules, “You make people feel seen,” it’s a wince-inducing reminder that some dialogue has been modernised past the point of myth.

The five Muses, meanwhile, are the show’s true gods. Candace Furbert, Sharlene Hector, Brianna Ogunbawo, Malinda Parris, and Robyn Rose-Li deliver powerhouse vocals wrapped in glittering, rapid-fire costume changes. Their harmonies, energy, and charisma hold the production together whenever the script threatens to crumble.

Visually, though, Hercules is a triumph. Dane Laffrey’s scenic design conjures temples, town squares, and cosmic skies through a dazzling mix of digital projections and real set pieces. Paired with Gregg Barnes’ shimmering costumes, it’s a feast for the eyes — if not always for the heart.

In the end, Hercules has strength but not soul — a spectacular show that proves even heroes can stumble. With its weak script, patchy score, and flashes of brilliance among the mediocrity, this West End revival never quite goes the distance. It’s solidly entertaining, often impressive, but rarely divine. For all its ambition, this Hercules is a demigod of a musical — strong, handsome, but not quite powerful enough to earn its place among the immortals.