Curve Theatre Leicester – until 5th September 2026
Reviewed by Amarjeet Singh
3***
Forty-five years after its Broadway debut, Barnum The Circus Musical is still a curious piece of musical theatre. Part biographical portrait, part circus event, it follows the rise of nineteenth-century showman P.T. Barnum, charting his journey from ambitious entrepreneur to global impresario. This touring production, directed by Jonathan O’Boyle with choreography by Oti Mabuse and Matt Nicholson, leans heavily into the latter, presenting a visually rich evening where spectacle often takes centre stage.
What strikes you most is the sheer scale of what is being attempted. Visually, the production is rich and detailed. Lee Newby’s set and costume designs evoke the world of a nineteenth-century circus through deep colours, ornate detailing and a sense of handcrafted showmanship. Jai Morjaria’s lighting complements the action, while Tom Marshall’s sound design ensures that music, vocals and effects remain clear despite the constant activity on stage.
The company are not simply actors performing musical numbers. They sing, dance, play instruments, juggle, balance, climb and execute aerial routines, often within the same sequence. Mabuse’s choreography injects kinetic energy throughout, making the ensemble the undeniable highlight of the evening. The circus elements are undeniably impressive. Aerial work, hoop routines, balancing acts, juggling, physical comedy and a memorable puppet elephant all contribute to an evening filled with visual invention. It is impossible not to admire the concentration and stamina required to sustain performances of this caliber.
Yet once the acrobats stop spinning and the musicians stop playing, the production reveals a hollow interior, trapped inside a muddled script that actively sabotages its own characters. Mark Bramble’s book forces the titular showman to explain the plot directly to the audience rather than allowing events to unfold naturally, transforming a supposed biography into a series of shallow, disjointed snapshots. The timeline in the second half collapses into a rushed jumble. Decades of personal, romantic and political milestones fly by without context, reducing monumental life choices to minor historical footnotes.
This structural weakness leaves the central characters feeling like cardboard cutouts. Matt Rawle works tirelessly in the lead role, singing with conviction and tackling the exhausting demands with charm. However, the writing frames the legendary showman not as a dreamer but as a self-centered, money-focused egotist who shows little real regard for the performers he recruits or the people in his life. Narrative progression is rushed, emotional moments arrive and depart quickly, and several supporting characters are introduced before disappearing almost as rapidly. We barely glimpse the human beings behind his exhibits, with figures such as Tom Thumb and Joice Heth reduced to fleeting appearances, never to be seen again. The treatment of the female leads is particularly frustrating. Monique Young brings grounded vocal strength to Charity, but the character is trapped in a one-note loop of marital disapproval and sudden changes of heart when charmed by Barnum. Charity spends most of the play begging for stability but acquiesces to her husband’s whims in the blink of an eye. Her instantaneous decision to overlook Barnum’s behaviour without apology, atonement, or explanation is ridiculous. Her development is handled with utter callousness. Cy Coleman’s rousing score stays pleasant. Songs including Come Follow the Band, Join the Circus, The Colours of My Life and Love Makes Such Fools of Us, provide welcome momentum, and the multi-talented company works overtime to elevate the material. They deliver moments of genuine wonder that deserve high praise.
However, impressive circus routines alone do not create a convincing piece of musical theatre. Sadly, Barnum The Circus Musical leaves you feeling exactly like one of the showman’s nineteenth-century patrons: dazzled by the razzmatazz but entirely humbugged by the lack of story.