Top Hat

Top Hat the Musical

A visually stunning production with exquisite costumes and a touch of golden-age glamour.

I must start by noting that Lindsay Atherton went on for Amara Okereke as Dale Tremont. She was a delight to watch and never felt out of place. There are several references throughout the show to Dale’s elegance and style, and Atherton embodied that perfectly; poised, alluring, and effortlessly graceful in every costume. Costume designers Yvonne Milnes and Peter McKintosh deserve particular praise; their work across the production was outstanding. I almost found myself questioning the men’s footwear in the hotel scene, white plimsolls, until I realised they were worn by the staff, while the patrons sported polished white shoes. It’s a small detail, but one that demonstrates the meticulous attention to costume and characterisation that defined the show’s visual appeal.

Sally Ann Triplett brought much-needed flavour and humour as Madge Hardwick, complete with her sharp New York accent and charismatic presence. She was an absolute joy to watch, particularly in the second act, where she lifted the energy of every scene she appeared in.

Alex Gibson-Giorgio as Alberto Beddini was another standout. His solo, performed in a state of partial undress, provided one of the first moments that truly captured the audience’s attention. It was a welcome comedic interlude and an effective shift in pace that injected life into the show.

The set, designed by Peter McKintosh, was visually stunning. The upstage wall featured half the face of Big Ben, while the white infill was used to project a series of cityscapes, marking transitions between locations with flair. The central arch framed each scene elegantly, and the revolving stage was cleverly used to reveal different interiors; from a bed to a bar to a hotel reception. However, I found myself wishing the revolve had been larger. As it stood, while the bed could glide smoothly into position, other furniture, chairs and benches, had to be carried on manually, slightly interrupting the otherwise seamless scene changes.

One technical issue also distracted from a scene: a dressing table with a mirror was angled in such a way that it reflected the light directly into the audience. Several people, myself included, had to shield their eyes and consequently missed much of the action. Shortly afterwards, a letter inexplicably fell from the gantry to the stage. It was unclear whether this was intentional or someone throwing on a forgotten prop that should have been on the table, the moment felt oddly misplaced and added unnecessary confusion.

As someone who adores the Fred Astaire film Top Hat, the inspiration behind this musical, I left feeling a little underwhelmed. In conversation with a fellow audience member on the way out, they mentioned never having seen the film and, after watching this adaptation, felt no desire to. That sentiment rather sums up the missed opportunity here.

Directed and choreographed by Kathleen Marshall, who did such marvellous work on Anything Goes in 2011, a personal favourite of mine, this production lacked a similar sparkle and glamour. The big ensemble numbers, in particular, felt curiously muted, missing the grand sweep one associates with 1930s musical charm.

Phillip Attmore as Jerry Travers was given a big introduction and strong entrance position, but soon faded into the ensemble, struggling to command the stage as a leading man should. Some of the tap sequences might have benefited from ankle microphones, a trick used in other productions to amplify rhythm and impact.

Astaire’s Jerry Travers was defined by an effortless charisma and a boyish romanticism, traits that grounded his pursuit of Dale in charm rather than caricature. Unfortunately, Attmore’s interpretation leaned too far into theatrical, muddying the characterisation and blunting much of the script’s natural comedy with the other personalities. Even in the show’s highlight number, Cheek to Cheek, it often felt as though Atherton was carrying the sequence, quite literally, while Attmore struggled to match her fluidity, ease and partner work.

Astaire’s genius was in blending jazz, ballroom, and tap with deceptive simplicity, but here the choreography felt more like musical theatre with motif nods to ballroom rather than the real thing. Whether this was a fault of the choreography or the performance is difficult to say, but the magic simply didn’t translate.

Curiously, the programme made no mention of a dialect coach. In a show featuring different nationalities and accents for every lead, this felt like a significant oversight. More consistent vocal work could have immediately elevated the production’s polish.

Top Hat the Musical remains a beautiful spectacle, but one that could have, and should have, soared far higher.

Photo Credit: Johan Persson