So much of Britain’s Queer history is lost to the prejudices of the past, eroded from existence by intolerance and persecution. Yet, in this stunning new musical inspired by real events and penned by Jordan Luke Gage, Redcliffe sheds light on a love story between two men in a bigoted community where homosexuality is seen firmly as a crime.
Set in Redcliffe, a small town in the Bristol area, between 1752 and 1753, the musical centres upon William Critchard (Gage), a young footman whose quiet existence is turned upside down when he meets and falls for charismatic sailor Richard Arnold (Daniel Krikler). Their blossoming, illegal romance is soon uncovered, with William thrown into jail as the gallows await. While the premise is sadly familiar, with the programme reminding us that homosexuality is still criminalised in 65 countries and punishable by death in 12, it is the authenticity of this story and the richness of Gage’s book which makes Redcliffe such a gripping new production. Indeed, even in the play’s darkest moments, and despite an outcome already established for the pair given its true story, Gage’s deftly written piece provides hopeful moments that are cruelly ripped away, building to an emotionally charged, defiantly moving finale.
As William, Gage blends the protagonist’s initial vulnerability and caution with the exuberance of first love. It is a tremendous leading role, and one that is clearly fuelled by Gage’s desire to tell this story. It is clear that there has been a great deal of research into the real William and Richard in Gage’s creation of this piece, and, as a result, the sincerity of Gage’s portrayal is effective in creating a well-rounded character out of a man whose life has been scratched from existence as a result of cruel intolerance. Vocally, Gage is exceptional, seen throughout the piece but in particular during his painfully sad number ‘Void of Love’, where William reflects on whether it is better to live in a safe lie rather than in a potentially fatal truth. Gage’s performance of William’s strength is remarkable, evoking a charged emotional response from the audience in the musical’s final scenes.
Alongside Gage, Krikler’s charming Richard is a neat contrast to the anxious William. Richard’s cheeky wooing of William is sweet, especially brought to the fore in the pair’s fun duet ‘A Million Things I Know’. Krikler also succeeds in drawing out Richard’s scorched past, where his sexuality threatened to have him killed previously, if not for his then-lover’s refusal to embroil Richard in his confession. Much like William, Richard too carries an uncertainty, fearful of repercussions, with Gage’s writing deft in allowing the romance to breathe when the pair believe they are alone, or in their final, brilliantly brave moments together.
Yet, despite the musical’s focus on the ill-fated pair, Gage’s writing also works hard to build around them a supporting cast of characters with their own backstories, heightening the production’s vibrancy. Rebecca Lock’s performance as William’s Mother is delightful, spinning from overtly goofy and humorous, mostly seen in her numbers, which expose her humorous obsession with wanting William married (‘The Most Amazing Wedding’), or Christmas (‘Mother’s Favourite Day’), before changing into a woman facing a mother’s worst nightmare as her son is put on trial. Gage’s book is impressive in its blend of comedy and seriousness, with Lock’s characterisation central to this tonal merging.
Meanwhile, Jess Douglas Welsh’s portrayal of William’s sister Abigail is impactful, too. Teenager Abigail’s complicated relationship with Arthur (Joseph Peacock) is a neat subplot, while she also desperately works with her mother to try to free William on a legal loophole. Abigail is also central to one of the play’s most gorgeously choreographed moments, crafted by Emma Woods, who, as choreographer, brings great emotion from the rhythmic movements across this piece. Wrapped in lilac fabric as she pines for Arthur during the sweet ‘The Girl from Redcliffe’ number, Abigail provides a subtle reminder of which kind of relationships were romanticised, and which were not, at the time.
In addition, it is a powerfully performed piece enhanced by its exceptional ensemble cast. Melissa Jacques, Jade Johnson, and Adrian Hansel all shine in their respective musical moments, with Johnson in particular, as the local pub’s Landlady, subtly wobbling under the pressure of her husband’s actions and the consequences they may have for William and Richard. Steven Serlin’s cartoonish portrayal of Felix Farley, the town’s gossip columnist, is a character who feels a little out of place, though his darkly ironic solo, thriving on the ‘calm’ that the hangman brings, is a bleak reminder of the joy the era garnered for the resolutions public executions offered.
Staged within Andrew Exeter’s minimalist set design, Paul Foster’s direction works hard to spotlight the human nature of both men, drawing out William and Richard’s humanity and their compassion, rather than demonising them like the rest of the town, who Foster uses brilliantly to frame certain scenes, observing the action like the judgemental mass they become. It is a production that moves with good momentum, with scenes and numbers placed strategically to build tension and even moments of hope, despite knowing the bleak outcome of the true story.
Redcliffe, then, is a gorgeous, devastating, and beautifully poignant musical, building to a finish which reminds us of all the loves lost to bigotry. Yet, in a country where hate crimes based on sexuality have risen over 112% in the past five years, it is also a painful reminder that, despite this play’s 18th-century setting, much more work needs to be done.
A powerful, richly staged, and devastatingly moving new musical.
