The greatest musicals, like the greatest operas, contain worlds within them that can be tapped and taken in many different interpretations by directors, without ever exhausting possibilities. Those directors are in turn shaped by the times in which they live, and can then present us, the audience, with a mirror that then reflects and refracts ourselves.
This is very much the case with the latest revival of Fiddler on the Roof which has just come into town at the Barbican, after a hugely successful run last year at Regent’s Park. It is a work best known in its 1971 film version, starring Topol, which stressed the positive values of family, community and generational renewal at the expense of tradition, very much in tune with the progressive spirit of the 1960s. But now the shadow of recent events in the Middle East looms larger, as the constant threats to the survival of the shtetl community of Anatevka intrude right from the start and the fragility of both internal values and family continuity undermines and darkens the moments of joy and affirmation of life.
This dichotomy is even embedded in the brilliant set by Tom Scott which manages to mirror the mood of the individual numbers. It is dominated by a canopy of ripe wheat which rises and falls above the open stage, sometimes offering shelter and comfort in the embrace of the community, like a thatched roof, and at others oppression, domination and the crushing prejudice and pressure of the Czarist state. Rarely have I seen a setting that so precisely captures within itself the shifting emotional content of the evening.
Many of the cast members transfer over with the production, and this is reflected in the tight ensemble and easy familiarity and focus everyone brings to the famous group numbers and dynamic choreography that provide many of the high points of the evening. So, in ‘Tradition’, the crucial, emphatic opening number, we receive not only a concise introduction to all the characters, but also a visual, choreographed statement of the central dilemma, namely when and where tried and tested beliefs and practices enable or stifle personal fulfilment. And similarly, right through the show, there is a visual or danced correlate to the emotion depicted on stage that is precise and telling.
In a short review it is only possible to note a few of the fine performances, whether large or cameo-size, that distinguish this production. At its heart, Adam Dannheisser, movingly expresses the challenges that Tevye, the milkman, faces in preserving his values and cherishing his family – when he overturns his cart towards the end we really feel this is a thoroughly earned moment. Lara Pulver, as his wife Golde, provides a tough but tender counterpart, with some of the very best singing of the evening – their touching duet ‘Do you love me?’ is the still point of emotional repose that lingers longest in the memory. Natasha Jules Bernard, Hannah Bristow and Georgia Bruce all characterise the three daughters memorably, and Daniel Krikler, Gregor Milne and Dan Wolff provide fine embodiments of their three suitors.
On the musical side, the most striking images and sounds are inevitably associated with Raphael Papo’s enigmatic Fiddler, Tevye’s moody daemon, who wanders in and around the action offering finely judged curlicues of commentary that never obtrude. Placed at the back of the set, the orchestra under Dan Turek’s direction are well balanced with the singers in arrangements that capture the folk and klezmer earthiness of the score, while allowing solo moments to shine, not least Hodel’s clarinet interventions at the end.
This show fully deserves a reiteration of the accolades that greeted it initially in its outdoor iteration, though taking it indoors has certainly darkened the mood. But perhaps that is necessary. In the interval the man sitting in the row in front of me was looking up the meaning of ‘pogrom’ on his phone, perhaps emphasising how in every generation we still need this musical to remind us of episodes in history that even now can be all too conveniently elided or forgotten.
Music: Jerry Bock; Book: Joseph Stein; Lyrics: Sheldon Harnick
Director: Jordan Fein
Cast includes: Natasha Jules Bernard, Hannah Bristow, Georgia Bruce, Adam Dannheisser, Beverley Klein, Daniel Krikler, Raphael Papo, Lara Pulver, Michael S. Siegel, Dan Wolff
Photo Credit: Marc Brenner
Until 19 July 2025
2 hrs 40 mins with interval