Jersey Boys at the Royal Concert Hall, Nottingham.u
1st July 2026.
Twenty years after it first opened and redefined what a jukebox musical should be, the Tony Award winning phenomenon Jersey Boys returns to Nottingham. Telling the remarkable true story of Frankie Valli And The Four Seasons – from humble street-corner harmonies in New Jersey to global mega stardom – it remains as much a story about friendship and the human cost of ambition as it is about chart success. On a personal note, Frankie Valli was a constant presence in my childhood because he was – and still is – beloved by my parents. The Four Seasons formed part of the soundtrack of our family life; these songs played so often that I learnt every chorus long before I paid any attention to who was singing them. Hearing that unmistakable falsetto now feels like a happy return to an old stomping ground, and I’m struck by the slightly surprising realisation that I remember far more of the lyrics than I ever gave myself credit for.
The premise of the show is deceptively simple: four working-class lads from New Jersey discover a sound that changes their lives and, ultimately, popular music, forever. Yet beneath the immaculate harmonies lies a tale of ambition, loyalty, betrayal, financial disaster and personal heartbreak. It is a classic rise-and-fall narrative, delivered beautifully.
Luke Baker leads the company as Frankie Valli and delivers a performance of remarkable control and charisma. Stepping into one of musical theatre’s most vocally demanding roles is no small task, but Baker makes it appear effortless. That trademark sound soars with clarity through the theatre, particularly during “Walk Like A Man”, while his portrayal captures both the vulnerability and determination that defined Valli’s career.
As Tommy DeVito, Carlo Boumouglbay provides much of the show’s combustible energy. Tommy is equal parts charmer and liability, and Boumouglbay relishes every contradiction. He possesses the easy confidence of a born storyteller, drawing us into the narrative even as his character repeatedly steers the group towards disaster.
Lewis Kennedy brings understated warmth to Nick Massi, the oft-overlooked member of the quartet who provides the fabulous bass, while Toby Miles gives Bob Gaudio an engaging intelligence and quiet ambition. Together, the four leads create the believable chemistry that is essential to the show’s success. They convince not merely as performers but as a band whose fortunes are inextricably linked.
Director Des McAnuff’s production remains a masterclass in economical storytelling. The structure, with each member offering their version of events, allows the musical to avoid the sanitised sentimentality that often plagues jukebox shows. Instead, it feels conversational, self-aware and frequently very funny. The pacing is brisk, the staging fluid and the transitions seamless.
Of course, the real stars are the songs. “Sherry”, “Big Girls Don’t Cry”, “Walk Like A Man”, “Beggin'” and the iconic “December, 1963 (Oh, What a Night)” arrive with the force of old friends unexpectedly turning up at a party and immediately improving it. The audience response borders, quite understandably, on devotional, with many people seemingly unable to resist singing along. The magnificent live band, under the direction of Lauren Ronan, occasionally appear on stage and add to the sense of a live concert performance.
What strikes me most is how Jersey Boys balances its celebration of musical success with an honest examination of the cost of fame. It never allows the glittering soundtrack to obscure the human story beneath. Twenty years on, it remains a slick, smart and deeply entertaining piece of musical theatre. By the time the cast launches into the finale, Nottingham is on its feet, and frankly, resistance is futile.
