It is Callie Khouri’s cult movie of 1991, in which two best friends, desperate to escape their doldrum lives and inattentive men, drive off into the desert and get swept up into a life of crime after one mistake after another. Thelma & Louise promises freedom and spirit, yet the chaos this brings creates an uneven response in this unfocused musical adaptation, also by Khouri, that struggles to be as memorable as its big-screen counterpart.
Set in America’s southern states, the musical, just as the film, focuses on best friends Thelma (Amy Lennox) and Louise (Rachel Tucker). Thelma, married at a young age to brutish Darryl (Samuel Edwards), lives a quiet, unsuspecting life, but the chance of a quick vacation with waitress Louise offers the opportunity for a weekend of freedom away from Darryl’s glare. Meanwhile, Louise is seeking to find happiness away from her affectionate but absent drummer boyfriend, Jimmy (Alex Gibson-Giorgio). It is a holiday that starts with drinking and dancing, but when Louise’s quick actions to save Thelma from assault turn lethal, the pair find themselves on the run, desperate to reach the Mexican border and a new life.
Despite the production’s frequent droops, what allows this buddy comedy to soar is the fantastic chemistry between experienced musical performers Lennox and Tucker. As Thelma, Lennox is superb in initially crafting a sweet and naive housewife, let out of the house for the first time in ages and desperate to seize every opportunity for fun and connection without considering the risks. It is a strong leading performance, and one that intensifies after Thelma’s brutal interaction with bar drunk Harlan (Tamlyn Henderson), which serves as the catalyst for the pair’s time on the run. Following a tryst with Jordan Luke Gage’s charmingly conniving jailbird JD, Lennox’s portrayal of Thelma becomes more reckless and more enjoyable, with the character’s indulgence in a life of crime serving as a neat, if unconventional, method of finding herself. Meanwhile, Tucker’s Louise is slightly more assured, though weathered by past experiences. Whereas Thelma brims with playful chaos, Louise grapples not just with her actions but with a haunting past that lingers over her. With this weight, Tucker succeeds in drawing out a character who deserves great empathy, especially during her final solo number, a rare moment in the play that enables the characters to breathe and sit with their situation.
Yet, despite the terrific leading performances, Khouri’s book never really gets going enough to evoke the same sense of connection, fun, or power as the original film. The piece struggles under its creative vision, with Trip Cullman’s inconsistent direction meaning some numbers are performed in a conventional musical theatre manner, while others are belted out with onstage mics directly to the audience. The intention, it seems, is to try to evoke the same sense of escape the women have in the film, but this never quite lands, drawing audiences out of the story regardless of the exceptional vocals on display. Moreover, the piece opens with great motoring promise, as the back wall splits to reveal the duo’s turquoise green Ford Thunderbird, but this is the only sight of the car, which disappears for the rest of the production. This proves problematic when the story hinges so much on quick getaways and car chases, relying instead on flashing LED strips and sound effects as an underwhelming alternative. The piece is also hindered by a collection of pleasant-sounding numbers that blend into each other and struggle to be memorable. What is clear in Neko Case’s music and lyrics is the determination to root the soundtrack in the country genre, which teeters into traditional rock. Yet the character dialogue almost collapses into the music, sometimes feeling at odds with the melodies underneath it and failing to evoke the same sense of power and companionship the musical promises.
That said, with a little refinement, the piece still harbours a great deal of promise. Alongside Lennox and Tucker’s performances, there is a fun cameo from Gage as the dashing bad boy JD, while homicide detective Hal (Trevor Dion Nicholas) is impressively complex, wrestling with his professional duty and his personal desire to see two women find their own way as a doting husband and father to two girls. Hal’s character is one of the more interesting parts of the play, displayed with great subtlety by Nicholas, and his story deserves a little more rounding off before Thelma and Louise’s climactic moment.
It is a testament to Lennox and Tucker’s performance that, despite the musical’s uneven nature, the finale still manages to offer some semblance of emotional poignancy for two women staring down the end of the line. Natasha Chivers’s lighting designs, often restricted to sharp whites and LED flashes, are more impactful here, with the piece’s final moments serving as a deft reminder that, at its heart, the play is an important interrogation of a woman’s right to be heard and feel seen amid patriarchal structures.
While some movie adaptations make the transition to the stage seamlessly, others, like Thelma & Louise, struggle to resonate in the same way. It is a piece that reduces the plot to its key story beats but struggles to connect the narrative despite the brilliance of the cast. It is an ambitious attempt, but, just like its fugitive pair, the musical feels as though time is running out on an uneven production.
