Book: Mark O’Donnell & Thomas Meehan based on the film by John Waters
Songs: David Javerbaum & Adam Schlesinger
Director: Mehmet Ergen
The doyen of perverse, John Waters, is probably not top of one’s list when it comes to fodder for musical theatre. Yet, as Hairspray has shown, Waters’ knack for deft storytelling with engaging characters provides a perfect foil for musical treatment. Cry-Baby is another glorious example of this transformation.
Set in 1950s Baltimore (the home of most of Waters’ work), Cry-Baby is an oil-and-water story of two groups of high school kids: the strait-laced, butter-wouldn’t-melt, well-to-do set, and the significantly less well-off, rebellious roughnecks.
The groups are deliberately clichéd. The “squares,” centred around the orphaned Alison (Lulu-Mae Pears), are a whiter-than-white, all-American, polo-shirt-and-chino-wearing bunch. The “drapes,” led by the also-orphaned Wade “Cry-Baby” Walker (Adam Davidson), are a leather-wearing, foul-mouthed, gum-chewing, knife-wielding collection. But this being a John Waters concoction, things aren’t as they seem, and these clichés are deliberately exaggerated to spotlight deeper political and social injustices.
The two groups meet at Baltimore’s Anti-Polio picnic where, much to everyone’s surprise, an intense attraction emerges between Cry-Baby and Alison, dismaying her supposed boyfriend Baldwin Blandish (Elliot Allinson). As the attraction blossoms into romance, tensions between the groups escalate, with both running at odds with their expected societal norms.
The path of love is far from smooth, especially with a jealous ex-boyfriend and a gaping social chasm to navigate. The story unfolds through fights, an arson attack, a court case, jail sentences, a fake pregnancy, and even an engagement.
True to Waters’ form, the seemingly simple story of mismatched love hides significantly deeper messaging about society. In Cry-Baby, the “not one of us” narrative feels uncomfortably reminiscent of today’s political battles around immigration and national identity.
The transition to musical is triumphant. Mark O’Donnell and Thomas Meehan’s script is a great adaptation, keeping the core narrative while giving room for the songs to drive much of the story. David Javerbaum and Adam Schlesinger’s songs fit perfectly, anchored in 1950s music that shifts between established crooner styles and vocal harmonies to the emerging, blues-tinged Rock ‘n’ Roll.
This musical contrast effectively conveys how society was shifting and how Rock became such a powerful vehicle in creating youth culture. The lyrical content adds another dimension of joy, not only expanding the narrative but also leveraging Waters’ dark, incisive comedy and love of alliteration.
Mehmet Ergen’s direction, coupled with Chris Whittaker’s choreography, crams a remarkably physical production into a relatively small space. There’s exciting energy and momentum throughout, never at the expense of story or performance. In what is ultimately a very well-executed ensemble piece, both Davidson and Pears delight as Cry-Baby and Allison, but the standout performances come from Shirley Jameson as Allison’s grandmother and Chad Saint Lois as Dupree, Cry-Baby’s best friend.
Cry-Baby, The Musical is a joy and a hoot to watch—musically infectious, narratively relevant, inventively staged, and very, very funny. While the love-from-different-sides-of-the-tracks story reminds one of another 50s-based musical, Grease, this has more bite, more heart, and many more laughs. This should be a show that runs and runs, but as it stands, it’s only on until mid-April, so see it while you can.
Runs until 12 Apr 2025