Chuck Chuck Baby

Working class British dramas historically — and still — often fall into a box-ticking exercise of certain tropes and clichés. Musicals have certainly helped shift certain portrayals and representations, with stage adaptations of Billy Elliot, The Full Monty, Kinky Boots and, most recently, West End production Standing At The Sky’s Edge often elevating underrepresented perspectives and voices. While writer/director Janis Pugh’s North Wales-set jukebox musical Chuck Chuck Baby can, at times, fall into those tropes, it proves a welcome female-led addition to the canon.

Despite the oppressive nature, there’s a moving vulnerability juxtaposed with endearing humour at the heart of the central performances.

With a mix of gritty, melodramatic social realism, fairy tale and musical whimsy (enter a recurring floating dandelion seed, sporadic Sunshine on Leith-esque singalongs and snowfalls of chicken feathers), Chuck Chuck Baby can, at times, be quite tonally jarring. But the heartfelt and moving performances from Louise Brealey and Annabel Scholey elevate the plucky proceedings, with a sweet and affecting sapphic romance you can’t help but cheer for. Their transformative arcs are well-realised, particularly Helen’s as she wrestles with believing she deserves a second chance of happiness, while the against-the-odds relationship is full of hope.

Well-trodden themes of feeling stuck in life and longing to escape are paired with signposted narrative beats, yet its endearing female-centred dynamics and LGBTQ+ focus (set amidst small town bigotry) gives it a certain freshness. Despite the oppressive nature, there’s a moving vulnerability juxtaposed with endearing humour at the heart of the central performances. Whether that’s the tenderness between Brealey’s Joanne and the wonderful Sorcha Cusack’s Gwen or the factory workers’ supportive and entertaining friendship (an amusing mushroom-fuelled trip proving a highlight).

Musical fans may be somewhat disappointed by the low-key jukebox musical elements, often woven into the story via sing-alongs to radios, but a Singin’ In The Rain-esque umbrella sequence with Helen and her friends does provide a joyful moment of escapism from the grind of factory life. The eclectic mix of tracks include Neil Diamond’s ’I Am, I Said’, Julie Felix’s ‘Dirty Old Town’ and Janis Ian’s ’From Me To You’. Throughout, Pugh channels a sunny brand of nostalgia.