Book, Music, and Lyrics by Jim Steinman

Directed by Jay Scheib

Review by Dominic Corr

Tickets from £15.00

Gird your loins, dig out the fishnets, and ditch the ol’ fella – Bat Out Of Hell isn’t for the faint-hearted or well-adjusted, as the late Jim Steinman’s dystopian fairytale re-treading thunders the intense discography for Meat Loaf to a ravenous audience who are ready to let-rip, embrace the chaos, and rock out. But in throwing down the gauntlet in re-shaping the production into a heavily leaning concert aesthetic, questions surrounding the validity of these decisions erupt enormously into a show which sounds remarkable, with Jon Bausor’s costuming to daze and distract, but loses a lot of the narrative and rebellious bite which the production was so well known for in its earlier incarnations.

Now, in terms of a plot, audiences won’t be the only ones a bit lost – as Steinman’s Bat Out Of Hell strings together select songs from his and Meat Loaf’s catalogue, interwoven with a post-apocalyptic take on Peter Pan, with a dash of Lost Boys and Romeo & Juliet. It’s a hellscape, well, it’s Manhattan, now dubbed Obsidian, where a two-tier system puts the elitist dictator Flaco at the very peak of society, while the likes of ‘bad boy’ Strat slum around The Deep, the abandoned subway stations, where forbidden love, rock, and sensualist desires await those braves enough to venture down…

And the allure is initially too much for Falco’s daughter Raven, a sheltered young woman, taken in by the leather, fishnets, and the freedom offered by those outside her bedroom walls. The first real taste of the characterisation and the production-heavy use of the live camera feed, screened above us on two enormous screens, Katie Tonkinson does a lot of the lifting for the performance elements of the show – as well as serving up some sublime vocals, an Act II triumph with Heaven Can Wait, carrying solo and ensemble performance admirably as they grow in the role, Raven being one of the few characters whose changes and ambitions become more evident and less stapled in place.

They’re a good match with Glenn Adamson’s Strat, writhing and tongue-flickering their way to a very memorable performance as the boy who will never grow up. Nightmarish, an oppressive world surrounding them, the role is a trickier one, one which Adamson takes to heart and performs admirably, delivering the emotional hooks and uniqueness of the role well while giving their own stamp to some of the production’s most anticipated numbers; the titular Bat Out Of Hell a highlight, as is their portion of I Would Do Anything For Love. At their best when working with others in the cast, Adamson’s chemistry and comradery with CarlaBurns’ Tink is a charged one which offers authenticity to Tink’s choices and actions, Burns taking a more minor role and holding the entire audience where needed.

As much weaved into the production as either of the giant namesakes whose music brought joy to millions, Rob Fowler and Sharon Sexton’s presence is always a treat for fans – the true-to-life couple – who know the bones and fire of this show like the back of their hands; their balancing act of comedic, heartfelt, and even threat all mingle into the much-needed jolt to the narrative. Sexton erupts into an entity alongside Tonkinson, and Georgia Bradshaw’s Zahara, to really stride forth with this production’s remarkable women in leading roles – one only wishes the narrative would take a few of its identities of redemption and brings them up to date to align with so these determined women, and queer representation.

The direction of the concert space, now adapted from the production’s Australia concert tours, leaves much of the nuance and intimacy of character amidst the rubble. There’s passion and fury, but the constrictive space limits Xena Gusthart’s choreography, which usually does so well to match the exceptional work of the live band (led by Iestyn Griffiths) and Michael Reed’s musical supervision and Steve Sidwell’s orchestration. In a marriage of light and sound pitched to near perfection, where the grit and iron might be lost in the set design and space, Patrick Woodroffe’s lighting pins itself to the pacing and music well, shifting from discombobulating and intense to eerily fairytale and even (gothic) romantic.

The once five-star behemoth chunters along with the flames of ambition evident – and a more than deserving cast who can match the impressive circumstances and pay tribute to both the titans responsible for this near three-hour strike of some of rock n’ roll’s most celebrated. But the edge is lacking. The chaos overcomes the pacing and leaves a dazed and confused audience screaming with enjoyment, but not entirely for the reasons they may have done before. A solid and defiant crowd-pleaser, Bat Out Of Hell still strikes out with some of the genre’s most significant musical hits – and still stokes the embers of hearts and passions all over.

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