MUSICAL THEATRE

BONNIE & CLYDE ★★★½

Hayes Theatre, June 21

Reviewed by JOHN SHAND

Were Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow alive today they’d just be two more narcissists taking selfies. Even Clyde’s obsession with high-powered firearms wouldn’t delineate him, especially in his home state of Texas. The conundrum that faced the creators of this 2009 musical (as it did the makers of the famed 1967 film) is whether these murderous gangsters should be romanticised.

In the event Frank Wildhorn (music), Don Black (lyrics) and Ivan Menchall (book) do romanticise them, if not as wildly as did the film. But it’s still dodgy territory. Like the nameless people who shot John Lennon or committed the Port Arthur massacre, Bonnie and Clyde pursued fame via gun violence. No one would dare to romanticise the above two unmentionables (or the perpetrators of countless other crimes or acts of terrorism), so why is it okay with these two? Is it merely because it’s set in the 1930s?

The creators did consider the issue, in as much as they spend much of Act One filling us in on why Clyde turned vile – not quite as a justification, but almost. This set-up period grinds like unoiled gears, but once Bonnie and Clyde get together, the show swiftly gathers narrative and emotional momentum – our cue to slide morality aside and take it on its own terms.

At its heart, it’s a love story about two crazy kids with stars in their eyes. Bonnie (Teagan Wouters) would like to gain fame through poetry, acting or singing, while Clyde (Blake Appelqvist) idolised Jesse James and Al Capone. Once together, their dreams play leapfrog with each other, and we are certainly engaged and partially enchanted by their boundless passion.