EdFringe Review: Rock of Ages

Bare Productions, the city’s pre-eminent vehicle for Non-Professional Musical production each Fringe, continues its annual tradition of staging a show good enough to rival, or better, the biggest ticket extravaganzas in town with ‘Rock of Ages’.

Written by Chris D’Arienzo and featuring a slew of the biggest rock songs of the 1980s, the show spent six years on Broadway, two on the West End, and is subject to frequent national tours on both sides of The Pond. The jury is, therefore, out on whether it’s a proven crowdpleaser.

The story delights in leaning into ’80s Rock Stereotypes’ greatest hits, bringing small-town girl Sherrie to live music Mecca, The Bourbon Club, on the Sunset Strip in sunny California. She and Club busboy Drew – of course, he’s an aspiring Rock Star – immediately fall in love.

Elsewhere in the city, German developers Hertz Klinemann and his foppish son, Franz, are busy convincing the city’s mayor to bulldoze the Strip so they can replace ‘sex, drugs and rock-n-roll’ with cleaner, modern living. City Planner Regina is outraged, but money speaks, and the compulsory purchase orders get sent out.

With time running out for the Bourbon Club, Drew being a complete moron, and Sherrie’s hormones fixated on Rock God Stacee Jaxx, is there any hope of a happy ending?

Of course there is, don’t be silly, but the journey to the triumphant conclusion is ridiculously funny, packed with OOT-characters, huge dance numbers, and soundtracked by some of the greatest music ever made.

“Bare Productions, the city’s pre-eminent vehicle for Non-Professional Musical production each Fringe, continues its annual tradition of staging a show good enough to rival, or better, the biggest ticket extravangazas in town.“

It’s on that last part that the show lives or dies, of course. All the comic timing and tirelessly rehearsed blocking won’t save ‘Rock of Ages’ if the music is mangled.

So tell me, where do BARE productions rustle up such a ridiculously talented cast, led out by Joshua Scott (Drew) and Sherrie (Georgia Brennan), who nail any anthem you throw at them. Where, in particular, do you find someone like Scott with just the right attitude-laced, soaring vocals? What are the chances you can find a genuine rock star, Ryan Livingstone of Club Beirut, to be the muscular Stacee with a flowing mane and vocals fit to carry off Bon Jovi’s ‘Dead or Alive’?

Where do you begin to find the time, never mind the dance-talented corps, to rehearse such sharp, ambitious choreography without missing a step? Where do you get the time to nail group harmonies time and time again?

What are the chances of recruiting Sam Eastop to be the show’s hilarious narrator and beating heart, Lonny? Again, all of these people are unpaid folks, most of whom have to earn their living in day jobs which leave them with only evenings and weekends to rehearse.

And that’s without touching on the permanently on-stage band, led by secondary school music teacher Finlay Turnbull on keys, and featuring a slick lead guitarist in the shape of Napier University Academic, Aidan Harvey. I’ve heard less dynamic bands touring with productions landing in the Festival Theatre and Playhouse.

Ok, so on the night I stopped in they had to deal with a wee gremlin in the sound system, but the odd crackle and pop aside, the sound design is big, bold and dynamic. You’d think having to tackle songs like Steve Perry’s ‘Oh Sherrie’ or the opening mash-up of ‘Just Like Paradise’ and ‘Nothin’ But a Good Time’, maybe you’d have to give amateur voices some protection. Not here. This is a vocal-led production which nails the numbers time after time after time.

(I went in without knowing the song-list and enjoyed the show all the more for it – hence naming very few in this review. They smash every single one.)

That’s about all I have to say until next year, when I will inevitably be sitting down to write another disbelieving account of Bare Production’s next production. If you can get a ticket for the show, and you like 80’s Rock, and you like to laugh, get one.