The cast of Starter for Ten, © Pamela Raith
Starter for Ten (2.0) has opened its doors at Bristol Old Vic, eyes twinkling towards the West End. When I first saw this adaptation of David Nicholls’ much-loved debut, it felt a little scrappy, charming in places, but clearly a work in progress. Version two is sleeker, shinier, bolstered by eight new songs and a fresh choreographic hand. Yet in polishing the edges, it seems to have lost its raw bite. The structural niggles remain, and though the show glitters, I still wonder: where’s the knockout punch, the showstopper that could seal its fate in town?
Hatty Carman, Emma Hall, Charlie Parham (who also directs) and Tom Rasmussen clearly know their source. Their book, music and lyrics embrace the heart of Nicholls’ tale: a working-class lad blundering into university life, navigating crushes, cultural shocks and the chaos of campus as he chases a dream of quiz-show immortality. It’s a coming-of-age comedy wrapped in spiky wit and student awkwardness, and the creative team capture that spirit with affection.
The score is steeped in 80s flavour. Its influences run the gamut: Joy Division, The Cure, Cyndi Lauper, Joni Mitchell, and for those who argue the decade was pop’s golden age, this musical serves up nostalgia in spades. Nevertheless, while the pastiche is convincing, few songs linger once the lights go up. The act one closer, a barnstorming vocal from Asha Parker-Wallace’s Rebecca, soars with faint echoes of “Defying Gravity”. Electrifying in the moment, but narratively misplaced. Rebecca, fascinating though she is, isn’t our lead. That honour belongs to Brian, and as the curtain falls, he should be standing, centre stage, carrying us into the interval.
Brian himself has been smoothed out since the first production. Gone are some of the sharp, flawed edges that made him complicated; in their place is a more conventional leading man. It’s a trade-off: easier to root for, but less intriguing. And yet, in Adam Bregman’s hands, Brian remains compelling. Plucked from drama school for the first run, Bregman has blossomed into a natural leading presence. His boyish earnestness captures the wide-eyed fresher desperate to fit in, and his voice, a clear, expressive tenor, slips seamlessly between registers, carrying vulnerability and hope.
Elsewhere, performances sparkle. Parker-Wallace blazes as Rebecca, the intellectual anchor and moral compass, guiding Brian’s heart as much as his head. Imogen Craig makes Alice a deliciously Cotswolds drama diva, channelling Madonna circa “Like a Virgin” with gleeful abandon. Will Jennings is a comic livewire as the team’s manic captain, a whirlwind of ambition and desperation for television glory.
Mel Giedroyc in Starter for Ten, © Pamela Raith
Then there’s Mel Giedroyc, who brings warmth and impeccable timing to Brian’s mum. Years of light-entertainment nous shine through in every beat. And Stephen Ashfield’s Bamber Gascoigne hovers like a sly Greek chorus, eyebrow raised, ever-present, a master of ceremonies with mischief in his gaze.
For all its flaws, the show has irresistible energy. The climactic Bristol-versus-Cambridge showdown is theatre at its most electrifying – music, movement and storytelling locked together in exhilarating rhythm. It’s the kind of moment that makes you forgive the rougher patches and remember why new musicals, however imperfect, are worth nurturing.
Musicals are notoriously difficult beasts to tame. They rarely arrive fully formed, and this one is no exception. But there’s plenty to admire: a likeable company, a stylish score, staging that fizzes with confidence. Starter for Ten feels assured, entertaining, and polished. With another round of tightening, a dash more bite and that elusive showstopper, Starter for Ten (3.0) might just be the version that finally lands from good to great.