Gary Naylor’s Best Theatre of 2024

“It should come as no surprise that theatre is showing some resilience in the face of crises heaped upon crises – there’s a reworking of Stephen Sondheim’s “I’m Still Here” from Follies simply begging to be written.”

That’s how I opened 2023’s corresponding column and, 12 months on, the sentiment is as relevant now as then. But there may, just may, be signs for genuine optimism. On stage, big screen stars continue to broker name recognition into full houses (at eyewatering prices) and backstage, many theatres are looking forward to seeing the impact of a significant changing of the guard in the ranks of artistic directors. 

Best of all, the Secretary of State for Culture, Media and Sport diagnosed a problem that’s been flashing red for far too long – “Over the last decade we have seen culture and creativity erased from our classrooms.” We can forgive an element of hyperbole if the treatment cures the disease – over to you Dr Nandy and good luck. You’re going to need it.

The show must go on and did go on in 2024 to some effect – so I’m getting my thanks in early to those who made it happen, paid their energy bills and are coming back for more in 2025. On our side of the fourth wall, we understand why you do it, even if it’s hard so guess how. 

The best new play I saw was Alexander Zeldin’s visceral 80 minutes long assault on the sense, The Other Place. Billed as ‘After Antigone’, its roots in Greek Tragedy poked through at times, but this was a ferocious examination of the tensions that fester in a very 21st century, very fractured family, the ratchet tightening and tightening until its shocking, merciful release. Its thematic cousin, Burnt Up Love at the Finborough, was the best new small scale play I saw, the second consecutive year that accolade has gone to that venue. Its The Silver Cord was also a perfect example of their knack for turning up forgotten works that prove compellling decades on from their initial runs. 

The best Shakespearean production came late in the year at the always reliable Orange Tree Theatre, an intimate Twelfth Night with a cast of old stagers whooping it up round a grand piano, but also finding the poignancy too. The smaller the scale of the Bard’s works, the more I appreciate the nuance, the poetry and the psychology and, perhaps crucially, the more the years peel away to place one in the shoes (clogs as likely as not) of the Londoners in 1600 or so. Proximity matters. 

One always feels a certain guilt looking back on musicals as it’s almost always the old crowdpleasers that gather the reviewers’ stars. New musicals, even with a pedigree like that of the Zeitgeisty Why Am I So Single? or the confidence of the magnificent Your Lie In April, receiving mixed reviews and generating mixed box offices, those two flagship shows disappointingly closing early. 

Oliver! at Chichester Festival Theatre has all-time great source material, but delivered it with an elan that was always likely to propel it to the West End. So too, A Chorus Line at Sadler’s Wells, a torrent of song and dance breaking over the fourth wall in a exhausting, exhilarating two hours. On a smaller scale, [title of show] at Southwark Playhouse was a delightful revival, but even that musical is old enough to order its own interval drinks.

The two very best musicals were unabashed large scale commercial works that appealed all the way from hardcore fans to day trippers to those looking for intellectual stimulation – with singing. 60 years on, Fiddler on the Roof at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre, was sheer entertainment, song after song a banger, its warmth the ideal antidote to the family traumas mentioned above in the plays section. Spirited Away, at the Coliseum, had to please those who treat Studio Ghibli as something akin to a faith and also construct its universe convincingly for those new to the material – it succeeded beyond any expectations I had. Indeed, it’s only now that I realise it was not a musical at all, but all of its ambition and aesthetic suggested it was!   

The rising star of opera, Aigul Akhmetshina, wholly justified the hype with her sexy Carmen at the Royal Opera House, her charisma and technical excellence filling the auditorium with star wattage to spare. It was another strong season at Opera Holland Park, the highlight the double bill of lI Segreto di Susanna and Pagliacci, showcasing the lighter and darker sides of love.

Often it’s the genre-busting, uncategorisable shows that punch you hardest – sometimes knocking you out with their conceit, but sometimes stunning you with their conception and execution. The Sound Voice Project in the Linbury Theatre at the Royal Opera House wasn’t an opera, wasn’t a video and wasn’t quite an installation either. It certainly was an extraordinary fusion of technology, storytelling and emotions that, on one level examined the centrality of the voice to human experience but, on another, excavated the shared space we inhabit, physically and psychologically. Nobody who saw it (actually witnessed is a better verb) will forget it.     

So ends a 16th year as a reviewer here (and at The Arts Desk). I look forward to a 17th with undiminished enthusiasm for theatre in all its forms and an equally undiminished amazement that I am as fortunate now as when I first sat, metaphorical pen in hand, at the Colour House Theatre in Colliers Wood for Pinocchio. No, er… word of a lie.  

Photo images: Sarah Lee

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