Six

Six queens, six stories, one electrifying theatrical experience.

Six the Musical, written by Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss, has been dazzling audiences in the West End since January 2019, following its origins at the Edinburgh Fringe. I have previously seen the show multiple times; in the West End, on tour in Milton Keynes, and even in Japanese yet somehow have never sat down to write about it. That feels like quite the oversight soon to be corrected.

This time, I attended the gala night celebrating the arrival of the new cast, or, more appropriately, the new Queens. That, in itself, speaks volumes about the show’s following. Fans are deeply invested in the Queens, their “herstory”, the iconic Megasix finale, and of course the costumes. Originally designed by Gabriella Slade, the costumes are nothing short of extraordinary. What’s even more impressive, however, is the dedication of fans who recreate these outfits through cosplay, a real testament to the show’s cultural impact.

We were also treated to the surprise announcement that the cast recording has gone platinum. No small feat, and a clear indicator of just how sharp, witty, and addictive the writing is. The music is undeniably one of the show’s greatest strengths clever, contemporary, and endlessly replayable.

The costumes themselves deserve further praise. They are a playful twist on the Tudor period, blending historical references with a bold, pop concert aesthetic. Think corseted bodices, exaggerated shoulders, flared skirts, and an abundance of sequins and shimmering fabrics not to mention the crowns, of course. The overall effect is part Tudor court, part girl band glamour, and entirely distinctive.

The premise is brilliantly simple: the six wives of Henry VIII find themselves in a kind of pop-fuelled purgatory, competing to determine who had the worst experience as his wife – the winner gets to lead the band. Each Queen takes her turn to tell her story, and in doing so, we get a fast-paced, entertaining crash course in Tudor history. While I have a general knowledge of the period, I still feel like I learn something new each time. It has certainly inspired me to dig deeper, perhaps even revisit the programme more thoroughly, as I suspect there are references I’ve missed along the way.

Another element I particularly enjoy is the onstage band. Introduced one by one, each musician gets their moment to shine, much like at a live concert. It adds an extra layer of energy and authenticity to the performance, and I always find that having the band visible enhances the overall theatrical experience.

With only six cast on stage for the majority of the show, they must carry a huge amount, and they absolutely deliver. Each Queen is distinct, both vocally and in personality, embodying that classic girl band dynamic. Adrianne Langley as Catherine of Aragon opens the solos with confidence, effortlessly hitting the demanding notes (as her character later proudly reminds us). It’s also worth noting how inclusive the casting ethos is, Marlow and Moss clearly prioritise talent above all else, embracing diversity in body types, backgrounds, and voices.

Leesa Tulley’s Katerina Howard stood out particularly for me, notably as the first I’ve seen performed with a Scottish accent, which added an unexpected and refreshing dimension to the role. Meanwhile, Nia Stephen as Catherine Parr was wonderfully engaging, conveying depth and emotion with even the smallest glance.

This visit was also my first time sitting in the dress circle, rather than the stalls, and it offered a completely different perspective. From this vantage point, I noticed far more of the interactions between the Queens, the subtle (and sometimes not-so-subtle) reactions, often exaggerated for comedic effect. I’m genuinely surprised I hadn’t picked up on some of these details before. There’s a recurring lyrical motif of “shhh…” to censor impending cheeky language, which lands well comedically, though there was one particularly tongue-in-cheek moment involving a symbolic microphone that might push the boundaries slightly for younger audience members.

Finally, the design deserves recognition. The collaboration between Set Designer Emma Bailey and Lighting Designer Tim Deiling is seamless it’s difficult to tell where one ends and the other begins. The set features panels resembling palace windows, constructed in a semi-industrial style with integrated lighting that outlines architectural shapes. What initially appears simple quickly transforms into a dynamic, stylised video wall; particularly effective during the Tinder-inspired “Haus of Holbein” sequence. A throne even rises cleverly from the floor, adding to the spectacle. There is a lot happening visually, yet it all feels cohesive and purposeful.

I won’t be the first to say it, and I certainly won’t be the last: Five stars, I’d give it SIX if I could.