Lyceum Theatre, Sheffield – until 27 September 2025
Reviewed by Sal E Marino
5*****
Matthew Bourne’s The Midnight Bell is a haunting, intoxicating dance-drama that takes a deep dive into the murky underbelly of 1930s London. Set through the frosted-glass windows of a traditional working -class pub, the emotions of loneliness, longing desire, and desperation start to mix through the passionate entanglements of its locals. For most, they reach boiling point and spill over leaving themselves further damaged but, never learning and so repeating the sad cycle they’ve chosen. Through the dance, we enter a world in which fleeting moments of passion are quickly pulled in to attachments of toxicity, addiction, and disappointment. True to Bourne’s choreographic style, the storytelling is physical, complex, and beautifully told —dancers embody characters who live on the edge of despair. This environment, penned by novelist Patrick Hamilton is a far cry from the likes of Noel Coward’s high society parties and high life living. Here, at The Midnight Bell, the mesmerising tales of lonely working- class people are observed with a painfully honest truth.
Playwright Patrick Hamilton whose career peaked in the 1930s and 40s, was an observer of ordinary, working-class Londoners—figures he knew from his many nights in pubs and boarding houses before the Second World War. His novels including: Twenty Thousand Streets Under the Sky, Hangover Square, The Slaves of Solitude and The Gorse Trilogy are rich with dialogue and atmosphere and weave tales of longing, betrayal, and psychological decay. Having read all of these novels, I was delighted to see the various characters from the different stories and was amazed at how instantly recognisable they were! Through clever and sharp choreography, Bourne translates their less favourable characteristics and vulnerabilities through non-verbal storytelling and the result is outstanding! The precision and skill of movement is spectacular and characters that the multi-talented dancers portray is simply spellbinding. Lez Brotherston’s authentic set and and costume designs really bring Patrick Hamilton’s books alive and we go from the bar, to a 1930s club, cinema and tea room with a smooth transition of scenes and all accompanied by Terry Davies phenomenal music.
The ballet brings to life Hamilton’s rogues’ gallery of the lost and the broken. There is the pitiful Miss Roach (Michela Meazza), trapped in a toxic liaison with Ernest Ralph Gorse (Edwin Ray), a charming yet predatory conman who preys on her vulnerability. Echoes of another of Hamilton’s tragic pairings emerge in the dynamic between the manipulative, self-absorbed actress Neta Longdon (Cordelia Braithwaite) and George Henry Bone (Will Bozier), a fragile, mentally unwell man hopelessly ensnared by her cruelty. Bourne shows us how love becomes a weapon in these relationships, leaving only wreckage in its wake.
Equally tragic is Jenny Maple (Ashley Shaw), a prostitute locked into a life she cannot escape. Her relationship with Bob (Dominic North), the cheeky chancer who genuinely wants to love her, is doomed by circumstance. Jenny has been brutalised by survival; when Bob attempts intimacy, she treats him as a client rather than a partner, unable to accept love as anything but transactional. Bourne paints their scenes with devastating clarity: a young man’s warmth and hope colliding with a woman too far gone into despair.
In stark contrast, Ella (Hannah Kremer) the barmaid harbours her own secret love for Bob. When she feels overlooked and unloved, her desperation leads her into a marriage proposal with Ernest Eccles (Reece Causton), an older, fussy, and deeply unromantic man. Their relationship offers no comfort, only a different shade of resignation—a life marked by compromise rather than passion.
There is also the forbidden tenderness between Frank (Andy Monaghan), the policeman, and Albert (Liam Mower). Frank wrestles with his sexuality, torn between his duty and his desire, but cannot help being drawn to Albert. Their stolen embraces carry the weight of secrecy and fear, a reminder of the dangers homosexual men faced in the 1930s, where discovery meant disgrace, even imprisonment. Bourne portrays their bond with heart-breaking delicacy.
In the end, The Midnight Bell closes not with resolution but with the relentless rhythm of the pub, where the same faces return to the same tables, ready to repeat their toxic rituals. Only Bob manages to break free, walking away from the intoxicated haze toward the possibility of a different life. For the rest, the bell tolls again, and the cycle begins anew. Bourne’s The Midnight Bell is story telling at its very best! You will be taken on a huge roller coaster of emotions and witness the best of ballet all at the same time.