Son of a Preacher Man/Malvern Theatres

THE question that has to be asked is this…would this production work without the ever-present Dusty Springfield sound track?

Frankly, it’s hard to say how it could. Even the presence of top-notch star Debra Stephenson somehow cannot kick-start a show that should have promised so much yet ultimately delivers so little.

This is hugely disappointing, because not even the Midas touch of choreographer and Strictly arch bitch Craig Revel Horwood can turn Warner Brown’s leaden storyline into a dreamy ride down a rock ‘n’ roll Memory Lane.

Nevertheless, the show starts with plenty of oomph as random strangers Alison, Kat and Paul meet up outside the premises of this former Soho club, a 1960s dive where hearts were won and perhaps broken in equal measure.

So far, so good. But it’s not long before the plot starts to melt away with the speed of brown sugar grains sinking through the surface foam of an expresso coffee.

Gay Paul wants to find his former dance partner, which is all very well until you eventually meet gormless, boring Jack and wonder what all the fuss was about.

Meanwhile, teacher Alison (Debra Stephenson) has fallen in love with a schoolboy, a preposterous storyline twist that quite obviously flies in the face of a current puritan climate that seems hell-bent on banning all forms of hanky-panky, let alone teacher-pupil shenanigans.

However, what saves this from being a Village People fest is the fabulously talented Cappuccino Sisters and ensemble members, the musical cavalry that always appears to arrive in the nick of time.

Sadly though, it’s impossible to get away from the overall feeling of wasted opportunity and the failure to tap a rich seam just waiting to be mined.

In fact, it’s only in the dying moments that this production finds its feet, exploding across the stage in a riot of sound, colour and fun. But regrettably, it’s a case of too little and too late.

Son of a Preacher Man runs until Saturday (February 24).

John Phillpott