The Band Back Together review – witty reflections on youth and middle-age

<span>At times more like a gig than gig theatre … The Band Back Together. </span><span>Photograph: Kate Hockenhull</span>
At times more like a gig than gig theatre … The Band Back Together. Photograph: Kate Hockenhull

Band reunions seem to be in the air, or one band’s, at least. Here is another, which may not have defined an era in the same way, but which speaks of a similar estrangement between once tight-knit members of a group.

The last time Joe (James Westphal), Ellie (Laura Evelyn) and Ross (Royce Cronin) played together was when they were sitting their A-levels, almost two decades ago. They have reconvened in their home town of Salisbury for a one-off charity gig.

In the interim, there has been Joe’s traumatic divorce, Ross’s career as a professional musician which comes with down-sides, and Ellie’s decision to return to Salisbury with her boyfriend and try for a baby. Barney Norris’s play is simultaneously a revisiting of youth, and a reflection on early middle-age. This trio is muddling on, but the reunion brings a pause and an inner audit of where life has taken them.

It never quite brings enough of a reckoning, although it is full of verve and zingy lines. Norris, who also directs, nails the witty repartee and awkward exchanges, with a lovely, lively, observational quality to the script. There is Joe’s gaucheness and evident feelings of inadequacy for never having left Salisbury, along with Ellie’s quick-fire put-downs that border on flirtation, and Ross’s endearing devil-may-care spirit. There is a well-crafted naturalism in their exchanges, too, and a certain romance to the reunion.

It is staged as a series of rehearsal sessions with music equipment comprising Becci Kenning’s stage design. Although they are in the village hall, the Arcola’s basement stage gives it a gritty subterranean glamour and the second half has a sultrier pace than the nervy first, also revealing the play’s secrets.

Songs are interwoven with dialogue and they are often transporting and beautifully sung. The actors convince as a band so much that at times it feels more like a gig than gig theatre, perhaps because the “theatre” bit does not have a big enough trajectory.

You are not taken far enough into these characters’ stories, as compelling as they are. There is intelligent reflection around recent events, such as the pandemic and the Salisbury poisonings, but they are not thoroughly enough woven into the seams of the play. You want more of the songs, secrets, flare-ups and bittersweet nostalgia about the meaning of home, home towns, and the people we were in them.

At Arcola theatre until 28 September