Fifty years after the release of the hit that gives this jukebox musical its name, KC and the Sunshine Band are on tour in North America, such is the undimmed love for their radiant disco-funk. Most of the audience getting down this afternoon – it’s one of the show’s four weekly matinees – probably know these songs from first time round. The 12in records used to frame the stage, their centre labels glowing in candy colours, are a testament to the discography at director-choreographer Lisa Stevens’ disposal.
Twenty numbers arranged by Mark Crossland are spread across an 80-minute production which doesn’t give much space for character development. So it is maddening to discover that this is also another one of those shows in which the question of how to tell the story becomes an ongoing discussion for the characters on stage rather than a matter for the writers’ room. The band’s leader Harry Wayne Casey (“KC”), played by Ross Harmon, has barely been introduced before his pal Dee (Paige Fenlon) is schooling him on 11 o’clock numbers and musical-theatre trends.
The tale of how Casey formed a band and lifelong friendships, while his gang fall in and out of love with each other, is always well sung but continually interrupted by their tedious conversations about “milieu” and “advancing the plot” with references to musical sensations including Hamilton. Get Down Tonight can only come off poorly from such comparisons, and scenes in a recording studio (with irresistible bass by Otto Williams) and of the group’s flashpoints have further unfortunate parallels to the far superior The Harder They Come and Stereophonic respectively.
Nevertheless, several songs are cleverly used to underline the plot – notably the love triangle between Casey, Orly (Adam Taylor) and Gina (Annabelle Terry) which comes to a head during a nightclubbing scene that stretches across Shake Your Booty and That’s the Way (I Like It). There are smooth routines with arm rolls and disco fingers, performed in shimmering jumpsuits and sparkly platform shoes by an ensemble who accompany the principal quartet of actors. The era’s other fashions of chiffon and denim are on display in fuggy pot-smoking scenes that include Dee embracing a gatefold cover of Jim Morrison and thin discussions of the war in Vietnam. More could be made of how KC and the Sunshine Band, formed in Florida, provided an alternative to what the show describes as an industry dominated by New York and Los Angeles.
Neither JF Lawton’s book nor the lyrics by Casey – who was involved in developing this often over-sentimental show – have enough depth to prevent an overall feel of disco week on Strictly with the occasional gyrating ambush from Magic Mike Live. The production, presented at the Edinburgh fringe in 2024 under the title Who Do Ya Love?, has a set by Bretta Gerecke, lighting by Jai Morjaria and costumes based on original designs by Tom Rogers that all conjure dancefloor hedonism, but you never lose yourself in the story or the music.
