The Choir of Man - a tuneful first UK tour

★★★★

There has been a lot of talk this past week about pubs and extended licensing in support of England.

Photo by Mark Senior

It perhaps demonstrates the institution of the British pub as a place of gathering. It is a sacred place where you can meet friends. Friends like Stella and Timothy Taylor who make sure you are never really drinking alone. From using the back of your hand to wipe away the foamy froth from a moustache, to slurping up the last drops and placing the empty cup ceremoniously back down onto a sticky mat with wilting edges, the drinking of a pint is performed like a prayer. And that’s really the whole point of Nic Doodson and Andrew Kay's The Choir of Man.

In the Jungle, a group of cheeky chappies meet to sing songs and put the world to right. You’ve got the Joker, Hard Man, Bore, and Romantic, all slight caricatures of expected locals. The men stampede together in camaraderie, stomping their feet and clinking their pints; they play bar stools as though they are drums and use the dark wood bar as a catwalk (design by Oli Townsend).

The Poet is our narrator of sorts. In the role, Oluwalonimi (Nimi) Owoyemi delivers pointed monologues, by Ben Norris, about the rate at which we're losing pubs and the devastating effects that will have on the punters - introduced individually and peppered with details of the actors portraying them. Connections are formed through their renditions of certified crowd-pleasers by artists like Fun, Adele, and Katy Perry. It's when the party atmosphere is stripped back to a cappella that the songs really sing. The nine men's voices blend like a well-mixed drink. The only version of their "Chandeleir" that could possibly be topped is when they were joined by a 90-strong local choir for a final treat.

There's little that British people love more than a Bon Jovi singalong and a freebie and Choir of Man combines the two with the audience invited on stage to play games and down beers with the cast pre-show and during the interval. Throughout the show, beer is passed liberally through the auditorium along with bags of crisps and beer mats, while unsuspecting crowds are pulled up on stage to be serenaded.

Choir of Man does it all so confidently. It takes full-throttled faith in the audience and trusts them to be on side right from the off. This assuredness is absolutely charming, as is the full cast, as they play their instruments (there is a notable lack of a live band proper), tap dance, and more. It often results in hilarity, laugh-out-loud moments of sincere ad-libbing and gusto, as well as well-choreographed camaraderie. Such is the confidence that you almost don't realise the wishy-washy plot (or lack thereof), instead fully committing to a good old-fashioned knees-up where conversation flows as freely as the booze.

I'll cheers to that!