New musicals are always hard to pitch. Whenever you watch one, you’re always on the hunt for the next catchy number or earworm beat, yet with Flyby, the hook is something more cosmic and more intimate.
Written by Theo Jamieson, Flyby opens in a manner reminiscent of a spy thriller, with gorgeous monochrome projections boldly emblazoning Libby Todd’s hybrid set, part-flat, part-spaceship, with the musical’s title, and an exposition-heavy opening which establishes what has happened.
Flyby centres around new couple Emily (Poppy Gilbert) and Daniel (Stuart Thompson). The pair, at least on the surface, appear besotted with each other, with an odd kink for danger and impulsivity. Yet it is quickly revealed that this relationship has some part to do with Daniel’s disappearance, which Rupert Young’s investigator Jonathan, is looking into. What makes Daniel’s disappearance so unique, however, is that he has not just fled the flat; he has stolen a spaceship and is somewhere, unknown, in space.
In truth, it feels an absolutely barmy set-up, yet the execution of the musical, combining Jamieson’s writing with Adam Lenson’s careful direction, results in a gripping and powerful exploration of love, loss and identity, in a very modern musical that has sci-fi in its premise but is anything but otherworldly.
The production thrives when the couple are together and when they collide. Gilbert’s fiery nepo-baby, the daughter of an acclaimed but morally troubled filmmaker, is trying to strike out on her own, working with a very successful and just as awful creator. It is this relationship, and the joy Emily gets from watching her boss terrorise interns, that troubles morally straight Daniel, and fuels much of the latter half of the musical’s conflict.
It is hard to make Emily out, which makes her all the more intriguing. There is great vulnerability here, which Gilbert draws out, but also a viciousness and vindictive nature that disguises much of her early trauma, the musical delves into. This is a neat contrast to Thompson’s Daniel, seemingly one of life’s victims who never strikes back, with an impending snap feeling inevitable. Both essentially become victims of a world that isolates and corrodes each of them, resulting in a passionate, loving and desperately volatile relationship, where the two outsiders collide with universal force.
Though it is not a particularly catchy musical in terms of songs, the use of music here is deft in enhancing and evoking the piece’s clear, anguished emotions. The characters fall seamlessly into song, which mostly works, though at times it does feel like some of the lines are just too packed for the score underneath it, particularly impacting Amy (Gina Beck) and Grace’s (Simbi Akande) roles as threaders of exposition.
There are also a few odd tonal choices, especially in the last ten minutes, which really lean on the absurdist nature of the production, and relies on one gimmick too many. The moment will be obvious, and it is a surprising inclusion given that for much of the production, subtlety is the winning formula.
However, despite the outer-space set-up, futuristic set design and space-age projections, Flyby is a triumphantly human story, where kindness and compassion are at the fore. It is a gripping and heartfelt new musical that carefully treats its characters, building to a poignant and moving final moment.
