Clueless, The Musical review – a clued-up West End star in the making

Gals and gays, welcome to your new favourite musical. Clueless, the West End tuner adapted from the 1995 teen film comedy, isn’t going to win the Pulitzer Prize for Drama, but my goodness, it’s a lot of fun. If you cheered on Elle Woods, harbour a secret crush on Regina George or fancied shopping in the Heathers’ candy store, you’re probably gonna love this.

Amy Heckerling, who wrote the original screenplay and here provides the frequently laugh-out-loud funny book for Clueless on stage, took inspiration from Jane Austen’s Emma, transplanting the titular heroine to 1990s Beverly Hills, renaming her Cher and making her a cheery, privileged, all-American teen. Cher’s intrigues and machinations now take place under the Californian sun, and in the musical, the high-energy kids express themselves through the pop and rock of KT Tunstall’s infuriatingly catchy tunes and Glenn Slater’s nifty, witty lyrics.

The Trafalgar is a bit small for big dance numbers and scenic transformations, but kudos to director Rachel Kavanaugh and choreographer Lizzi Gee for shoe-horning a full-scale musical into a compact space. Miraculously, the tightly drilled ensemble manages not to bump into the proscenium arch while executing the high octane dances and there’s even a reveal of Carmel Dean’s excellent band at the back of the stage during one of the most exhilarating numbers. Kavanaugh’s staging has a cinematic fluidity as scenes merge slickly into each other and there’s a lovely running joke that almost any piece of furniture can be transformed into a moving car. It sometimes feels over-egged: for instance, a terrific Green Day-esque number “Human Barbies” doesn’t need the ensemble disporting like human-sized dolls to get the point across.

Apart from the numbers, many of which are bona fide bangers (the boyband-inspired “Reasonable Doubt” for Cher’s suspicious step-brother Josh has the audience screaming), the principal distinguishing feature of Clueless is its leading lady. As Cher, who’s surely first cousin to Elle Woods and Wicked’s Glinda, American newcomer Emma Flynn is delivering the most entrancing West End musical debut since Eva Noblezada broke our hearts in Miss Saigon. A scintillating comedienne with a steely, supple belt, she’s like a beam of light on stage, stunning in Paloma Young’s garish/elegant costume creations and adorable enough to mitigate against most of Cher’s more obnoxious characteristics. Impressively, she manages to chart the journey from smug self-satisfaction to real insight, and if musical theatre still creates stars, then Flynn unquestionably is one.

Keelan McAuley does a wonderful job of balancing her serious-minded step-brother’s intellectual superiority with a rockstar swagger, and Chyna-Rose Frederick is a stroppy delight as Cher’s glamorous best mate Dionne. Romona Lewis-Malley, in a lovely professional stage debut, is the schlubby New Yorker Tai, who blossoms unexpectedly under our heroine’s fashion-conscious wing. Like other shows centred on teenagers, Clueless follows the Hairspray and Spring Awakening convention of having a pair of older actors taking on all the other senior roles, and Ryan O’Donnell and Imelda Warren-Green deliver nimble, inspired work here.

A big band club number in the second half is a jitterbugging joy, but its swinging 1940s sensibility has nothing to do with the rest of the show and score, and there are characters and plot developments in both acts that feel like non-sequiturs. Mikiko Suzuki Macadams’s colourful sets seem more Mediterranean than Californian and look like they cost a lot less than a million dollars.

However, despite those reservations, Clueless fundamentally works, especially when Flynn’s gorgeous Cher is centre stage, and Tunstall’s earworm tunes, in Simon Hale’s sparkling orchestrations, are surging through the theatre. It’s not the greatest of musicals, but if you booked this as your big West End night out, would you feel shortchanged? As Cher would say, AS IF. Irresistible.