The Choir of Man – A Toast to Friendship, Pints and Pure Joy
- London Theatre Doc
- 10 hours ago
- 2 min read
★★★★
Few shows can make you feel like part of the cast before the first number even begins, but The Choir of Man pulls you straight into the pub. I recently attended the gala night, now featuring its final cast before the show’s West End closure and upcoming tour. It remains an absolute triumph of a homegrown British musical, one that began at the Fringe and has grown into a beloved fixture of the West End.
To my shame, this was my first time seeing it, so I came with fresh eyes, and what a joy I had been missing. Fun, fresh and full of heart, the production feels like an instant invitation to join in rather than just watch. My companion, one of those “I don’t like musicals” friends (we all have one), was whooping, laughing and clapping along from start to finish.
The Choir of Man doesn’t follow a traditional plot. Instead, it is held together by poetic monologues written by Ben Norris that aim to give emotional weight to the friendships on stage. At times, these passages reach a little too hard for profundity, searching for meaning where the natural rhythm of pub banter would have been enough. The show shines brightest when it stops explaining friendship and simply shows it.
Among the cast, Ben Goffe is the standout. As the Handyman, his tap dancing bursts with athletic brilliance and infectious energy, spilling across tables, chairs and practically every surface within reach. His sheer physicality and timing light up the stage, earning some of the night’s biggest cheers. If Goffe provides the spark, Cal T King brings the heart, serenading an audience member in a moment that is both ridiculously cute and hilariously charming. And at the other end of the spectrum, Paul McArthur as the Poet grounds the performance with gentle humour and a lovely Scottish brogue, giving the evening its warmth and quiet emotional pulse.
A few of the musical choices could use a refresh, with some numbers now feeling more like pub jukebox favourites than fresh discoveries. Given that The Choir of Man first began performances in 2016, this is understandable, but a slight update to its setlist could make the show feel even more immediate without losing its nostalgic charm.
What makes The Choir of Man so special is its camaraderie. The laughter, the harmonies, the clinking glasses, all feel spontaneous and real. This isn’t glossy or pretentious theatre; it is honest, heartfelt and overflowing with joy. In a theatre landscape dominated by spectacle, The Choir of Man stands apart by celebrating the simple things: friendship, music and a good pint. It is proof that sometimes the greatest nights are the ones shared around a table, singing your heart out with the people who make you feel at home. It is bloody good theatre and a reminder of why live performance still matters.
