The Playhouse, Edinburgh
Four stars
A woman’s world has probably shifted on its axis several times over since Catherine Johnson’s ABBA powered musical dramady first stormed the West End a quarter of a century ago. That may have been at the fag end of the ab-fab, girl powered 1990s, but the show’s heart remains in the 1970s, a seemingly more innocent age of free(ish) love without too many apparent consequences as feminism trickled down the class scale.
Or so it probably seemed for forty-something Donna’s generation in Johnson’s story, which, while tailored to Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus’s greatest hits, could probably stand up dramatically on its own. This isn’t to undermine one of the greatest songbooks in late twentieth century mainstream pop history. Far from it. In truth, for Johnson, director Phyllida Lloyd and producer Judy Craymer, the mix of ennui and euphoria that fires the Swedish songwriting duo’s grown up mini melodramas were a dramatic gift.
For anyone not of the more than 70 million strong audience members who have seen Lloyd’s production over the last twenty six years, not to mention what is probably umpteen times that amount who watched the 2008 film version, the story goes like this.
Donna runs a bar on a Greek island, where she raised her now twenty year old daughter Sophie by herself. Now Sophie is about to marry, she wants to know who her dad is. Joining the dots from Donna’s secret diaries, Sophie invites the three possible candidates to her wedding. Like a trio of dysfunctional fairytale princes betraying fifty seven shades of fecklessness, Harry, Bill and Sam all miraculously show up. As do Sophie’s two best mates and her mum’s old gal pals, Tanya and Rosie, who once sang in a Rock Follies style girl group with her called Donna and the Dynamos. With an awful lot of awkward conversations pending, the scene is set for the ultimate reconciliation.
While more subdued in volume than one might expect, the songs come thick and fast as Donna, Sophie and co embark on a cross generational merry dance that moves from the youthful bounce of Dancing Queen to the mid life angst of The Winner Takes it All and beyond. As tall involved come to terms with their assorted responsibilities, they form the sort of extended family that those opposed to what used to be called the permissive society warned us against.
The pace of the show is pitched just right, leaving plenty of space for each character to have their moment. This is the case for the three dads played by Richard Meek as Harry, Mark Goldthorp as Bill and Luke Jasztal as Sam, as well as for Donna’s sidekicks brought to life by Marisa Harris as Tanya and Rosie Glossop’s Rosie. The stage belongs, however, to Lydia Hunt as Sophie and Jenn Griffin as Donna, who own each of their lavishly choreographed set pieces both vocally and dramatically. This sees the mother daughter duo find common ground in a quasi Shakespearian feelgood ending that gives way to the inevitable all singing, all dancing finale. After twenty-six years in the sun, the sheer joy of such a nostalgiafest shows no sign of abating just yet.
The Herald, December 13th 2025
ends
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