This review was originally written for The Reviews Hub: https://www.thereviewshub.com/tina-the-tina-turner-musical-marlowe-theatre-canterbury/

Few musicians had as torrid and troublesome a journey as Tina Turner. Surviving an abusive relationship with the brutal Ike Turner, navigating motherhood and desperately trying to establish her own voice are all hurdles the icon overcomes, and more, in this powerful portrayal of Turner not just as a star, but as a survivor too.

Taking on the unenviable task of emulating the star, Elle Ma-Kinga N’Zuzi shines in bringing to the fore not just Turner’s charisma but her vulnerabilities, too. Vocally, it takes a little while for N’Zuzi to be able to show off her true range, thanks to the piece’s pacing, which frustratingly saves the big numbers until a last big crescendo, but once this kicks off, what feels like the real Turner, and not a tribute act, bursts onto the stage.

N’Zuzi combines well with the largely effective Kyle Richardson, Tina’s abusive husband, Ike, to create a volatile and horrifying relationship. Katori Hall’s book, though a little bloated in places, is unrelenting in spotlighting Ike’s brutal treatment of Tina, with each insult, punch and slap landing with increasing violence. Richardson does well to quickly establish Ike’s callous and controlling methods, with Hall’s script also carving out moments to explore Ike’s coercive control of Tina, too. While the reality of their relationship is already well-established in the public domain, to see it brought to such stark and brutal life is still shocking, although Phyllida Lloyd’s direction of Ike’s character borders on caricature on occasion.

Turner’s troubled relationship with her mother, Zelma, is also explored in this musical through D’Mia Lindsay-Walker’s cold portrayal. Lindsay-Walker’s abrupt delivery captures the character well, and the pair’s final showdown is both shocking and gut-wrenching, especially given Zelma’s relentless love for abuser Ike. It is through Zelma and Ike that we truly see just how severely the odds were stacked against Turner.

The exploration of these relationships is essential to understanding Turner’s rise to individual stardom, but the sheer amount of time dedicated to each one casts a more sombre shadow over the piece that the pulsating final 20 minutes tries to reverse. It is not necessarily a bad decision to focus so heavily on Tina’s troubled backstory, though fans hoping for a jukebox musical may be slightly disappointed, and this does naturally, given the weighty topics, bloat the production. The book does do well, however, to weave many of the numbers into the narrative organically.

The musical also strikes the right note in capturing Turner’s iconic image, too. Mark Thompson’s costume design glistens and is used symbolically to chart the singer’s growing autonomy. Meanwhile, Anthony van Laast’s choreography brings to the stage Turner’s signature moves, crafting electric routines delivered by a terrific ensemble.

Not all the design choices land, though. This is particularly notable in Jeff Sugg’s projection design. The musical relies heavily on projections to set the scene, but in places these are too abstract and feel more like a screensaver than a backdrop. Once these disappear towards the play’s conclusion, the piece feels freer for it.

It is Turner’s exuberance that the play cries out for and eventually delivers in a roaring conclusion. While it is a shame we have to wait so long for it, the payoff is worth it. The musical does more than just belt out the singer’s hits, exploring her troubled relationships, her fierce faith and her resilient self-belief, and is, largely, a refreshing take on a well-trodden genre.