Emerald Storm – Emerald Theatre, London

It’s now just over 30 years since the interval act at 1994’s Eurovision Song Contest in Dublin introduced the concept of Riverdance – and the modernisation of Irish dancing in general – to the public’s attention.

But while Riverdance itself is currently enjoying a 30th anniversary large-scale tour, the concept of incorporating Irish dance into other genres is not solely limited to that brand. Cue Emerald Storm, which, after a 45-venue tour in 2023, is now taking up residency in the similarly named Emerald Theatre on London’s Victoria Embankment.

From the three-piece Irish folk band playing as a preshow to the green hues throughout the space, the Celtic influence is not subtle from the off. When the dance itself kicks off with five Irish dancers (led by former competitive dancer Olivia Graydon), we’re subject to an onslaught of choreography that feels like what Irish dancing has come to mean in populist eyes – rigid torsos riding atop legs that whir with high kicks, back kicks and fast taps, all performed to uptempo rocky beats.

Indeed, initially, the variety in the routines is determined by whether the songs are prerecorded instrumentals or whether resident singer Tom Ball is providing vocal accompaniment, or whether Graydon is performing in ballet pumps or tap clogs. Some of the backing music is so loud that, presumably for fear that we will not hear the actual dance steps (there are no pick-up mics at shoe level), additional tap choreography has been added to some tracks.

Pretty soon, though, the lack of variety among the choreography begins to pale. An interlude with Adam Brant’s “Mop Boy”, a supposed comedy routine in which the theatre cleaner imagines being an onstage dancer, flops because of the complete lack of wit in the hackneyed scenario.

And then the rest of the show’s dance crew turns up, a quartet of tap dancers led by New Zealand’s Bayley Graham. The rawer, more freewheeling style of modern tap presents an invigoration to an evening that was threatening to lose steam.

When all 10 dancers are on stage at once, sometimes grouped in friendly battles or call-and-responses and sometimes incorporating elements of each other’s styles in unison, there is a sense of the unbridled joy that dance can bring. 

Graham’s style, in which he tempers his height by dancing in an almost hunched position, means he requires a little more room than a stage full of other dancers can quite give him. He becomes at his strongest when given the space to finally let rip in Act II with a sequence of pure tap, unaccompanied by any music and driven purely by the rhythms and percussion of his own feet. There is a sense of true improvisation at work here – particularly when an attempt to use the Emerald’s onstage stairs and balustrades as props falls flat, and he cuts the half-hearted applause short, protesting about his weak finish. But with some exhilarating cane work and incredible stamina, the rest of Graham’s solo routine becomes the show’s highlight.

Other sections of the evening are not so successful. The show’s chorus of eight singers, who roam the whole theatre from stalls to circle to sing along at various moments, comes on stage to perform a sea shanty that turns out to be Wellerman (the sea shanty that people use as an example when they don’t know any others), which is fine but leans into the concept that the show’s construction is inherently veering towards playing it safe. Irish folk songs from Whisky in the Jar to The Fields of Athenry, performed at the dance company’s usual high tempo, similarly feel like giving an inauthentic version of Irish authenticity.

Maybe that’s for the best, though, for Act II stretches the boundaries out of that quasi-Irish schtick in ways that don’t always pay off. The tap dancers’ use of Chemical Brothers works, but a staggeringly bizarre rendition of Beyoncé’s Halo, in which the tempo (and, in some places, the key) seems to fly all over the place, feels entirely out of place. The second act also sees a return of the execrable mop boy routine, although when that is dropped and Brant is finally allowed to join the tap crew as a fully fledged (and excellent) dancer, one wonders why anyone thought the comedic interludes were a sensible choice.

The overall effect is of a show which at once wants to be a budget Riverdance, but also doesn’t want to be pigeonholed as that alone. That’s a laudable aim, but if it were to work, Emerald Storm would need a much stronger sense of its own identity. 

The programme notes suggest that it should be seen as the grandchild of Riverdance, Tap Dogs, Stomp and Coyote Ugly. But that’s its problem: instead of inheriting all its ancestors’ good genes, it is instead a bit of a Tap Mongrel.

Runs until 7 September 2025

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