There are some shows that enter the stage quietly. Priscilla Queen of the Desert is not one of them. It bursts through the doors in heels, sequins and a cloud of emotional support glitter, then dares you not to enjoy yourself.
At Nottingham Theatre Royal last night, this latest touring production gave the audience exactly what they had come for: colour, camp, comedy and a soundtrack that makes sitting still feel unnecessarily strict. It is not a subtle show, and nor should it be. But beneath the feathers, frocks and disco sparkle, Priscilla still has a warm and surprisingly tender story about friendship, identity, resilience and the need to be accepted for who you are.
Kevin Clifton brings real heart to Tick, balancing the showmanship of Mitzi with the uncertainty of a father frightened of being rejected by his son. In a production this visually loud, it would be easy for the quieter emotional beats to get lost, but Clifton gives them room to breathe. His performance is charming, polished and nicely judged.
Nick Hayes is a joy as Adam/Felicia, all sharp edges, high kicks and glorious chaos. He gives the show a burst of danger and mischief whenever he appears, with comic timing as sharp as the costume changes are outrageous. It is a performance full of confidence, but with enough vulnerability underneath to stop Felicia becoming just the punchline machine.
Adèle Anderson is magnificent as Bernadette. Witty, poised and wonderfully dry, she gives the show much of its soul. Her Bernadette is glamorous, of course, but also bruised, proud and quietly defiant. Some of the best lines of the night were delivered with the kind of precision that made the audience laugh before she had even finished the sentence.
Peter Duncan brings real warmth as Bob, grounding the show beautifully. His scenes with Bernadette are among the gentlest moments of the evening. In a musical that often goes big, loud and gloriously over the top, their connection feels refreshingly understated and genuinely sweet.
The ensemble deserve enormous credit. This is a show that asks a lot of its cast. They have to sing, dance, strut, sprint, sparkle and sell every ridiculous visual idea as if it is the most natural thing in the world. They do it with infectious energy. For this performance, the role of Miss Understanding was played by Sario Solomon, who brought a brilliant flash of charisma, comedy and clubland sparkle to the evening. Cast changes can sometimes feel like a compromise, but there was no sense of that here. Solomon slotted in with confidence and flair, giving the audience a performance that felt fully owned rather than simply covered. The Divas also deserve a special mention, soaring above the action with powerhouse vocals while the choreography kept the whole thing moving at a pace that rarely let up.
Visually, the production is a feast. The costumes are ridiculous in the best possible way. Some shows have costume changes. Priscilla has costume reveals that feel like minor public events. The bus remains a brilliant centrepiece too, not just as a set piece but as a symbol of escape, movement and chosen family.
And then there is the music. With numbers including It’s Raining Men, I Will Survive, Hot Stuff and Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, the show knows exactly which buttons to press. By the time the big disco numbers arrived, Nottingham did not need much persuading. The room was with it.
What makes Priscilla work so well is that it never relies on glitter alone. The humour is broad, cheeky and sometimes deliciously daft, but the emotional core is sincere. It is a celebration, but not an empty one. Under all the sparkle is a story about people who have had to build their own confidence, their own family and their own place in the world.
Last night’s performance was loud, loving, funny and completely irresistible. It gave Nottingham a night of escapism, but also something kinder than that. It reminded us that being fabulous is fun, but being accepted matters more.
By the end, the Theatre Royal felt less like a theatre and more like the happiest bus stop in Britain. Priscilla Queen of the Desert is a high-heeled triumph: joyful, generous and absolutely alive.
