Bombay My Beloved (2023) S01

The failings of this Bombay My Beloved production, however, are not wholly down to the half-baked writing. Led by Aalyia, the acting is jarringly wooden.

Many of the big numbers are mouthed rather than sung live – presumably to mimic how music scenes are shot in Bollywood, but when we do hear the cast’s voices, often we’d prefer if they remained a little quieter. Off-key yelping destroys Bollywood favourites, while the dance breaks are short of big-screen grandeur. The sparkling costumes bring all the colour of spectacular cinema, but everything is in dire need of tighter performance for it to work. This disarray is overwhelming in the first half, but as the musical progresses, it begins to find its feet. There is a pacey whodunnit section, inspired by a real-life 1982 accident in Bollywood that left the actor Amitabh Bachchan fighting for his life. The lead singer Chirag Rao has a battle to keep the chorus songs tuneful, but on his own, his voice is one of true beauty. Overall, this attempt at a parody of the Bollywood sector needed to be more sure of what it hoped to achieve. And with a packed-out theatre of very diverse faces singing along, it certainly has an audience. With another shot, perhaps it could get there. Fight for what is rightfully yours,” Laila’s Bombay My Beloved mother instructs her from her deathbed. So off she goes across the country to Bombay to find her estranged film director father, Din Dayal (Chirag Rao), and become a Bollywood star. But even with such a grand mission at its centre, Sâmir Bhamra’s new musical struggles to secure a place in the limelight. Written as the 50th show for the company Phizzical, the production wavers between paying homage to 70s Bollywood cinema and trying to fight its outdated culture. Sadly, neither of these aims emerge triumphant.