Jersey Boys – Edinburgh Playhouse

There is something reassuringly familiar about Jersey Boys. This is my third encounter with the musical in approximately six years, suggesting that, rather like a distant relative, it comes calling every three years whether invited or not. But familiarity can be a double-edged sword, particularly when a show has been around for twenty years and its extraordinary catalogue of songs is already deeply embedded in our collective musical consciousness.

This latest touring production, directed by Des McAnuff, takes a little longer than expected to find its feet. The first act is, dare I say it, rather pedestrian at times, despite the considerable musical talent on display. But what initially threatens to become a fairly conventional musical biography transforms in the second half into something much more urgent, dramatically satisfying and ultimately rather moving.

The story of Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons is familiar enough. Four working-class lads from New Jersey discover that their extraordinary vocal harmonies might provide a route out of their unpromising surroundings. Along the way come fame, fortune, fractured friendships and some of the most recognisable popular songs of the twentieth century.

What is less conventional is the manner in which writers Marshall Brickman and Rick Elice tell that story. Rather than presenting a single, definitive account of the group’s rise and fall, the musical is structured around four competing perspectives, with each member effectively narrating his own version of events. As Elice explains in the programme, the original musicians frequently disagreed about what had happened, leaving the writers with four different versions of the truth.

It is a clever theatrical conceit, suggesting that the history of The Four Seasons is as much about memory, loyalty and self-justification as it is about music.

Luke Baker takes on the considerable vocal challenge of Frankie Valli, while Scott Goncalves, stepping into the role of Tommy DeVito for this performance, brings an important presence to the group’s increasingly troubled relationships. Toby Miles plays songwriter Bob Gaudio, with Lewis Kennedy completing the quartet as Nick Massi. Together they recreate those distinctive harmonies with considerable assurance, supported by an excellent live band.

The first act charts the familiar progression from small-time hustling to musical stardom, punctuated by hits including Sherry, Big Girls Don’t Cry and Walk Like a Man. The songs are delivered with polish and precision, although the storytelling occasionally feels more concerned with moving between musical milestones than developing a compelling dramatic momentum.

One sequence, however, strikes a particularly discordant note. December, 1963 (Oh, What a Night) accompanies Bob Gaudio’s sexual initiation, presented as a piece of laddish comedy involving a woman whose role appears to be little more than facilitating his coming of age. Whether or not the incident reflects the group’s actual history, the scene feels increasingly incongruous in 2026. There is nothing inherently wrong with portraying the attitudes of another era, but there is a considerable difference between examining those attitudes and inviting an audience to laugh along with them. In a musical that otherwise handles its characters’ failings with some sophistication, this particular episode feels like an unnecessary throwback. Theatre has shown itself capable of revisiting such material, as demonstrated by revisions to The Book of Mormon, and perhaps Jersey Boys might benefit from similar reflection.

However, after an uninspiring start, in this game of two halves, quite suddenly, everything changes.

It is Beggin’, the second musical number of Act Two, that really seems to kick the production into another gear. Originally recorded by The Four Seasons in 1967, the song has enjoyed a remarkable contemporary revival, most notably through Italian rock band Måneskin, whose version introduced it to an entirely new generation.

Its infectious rhythmic energy is the perfect catalyst for a second half that raises both the musical tempo and the dramatic stakes.

As the original quartet gradually disintegrates, first from four to three and eventually to two, the story acquires a much sharper focus. Tommy’s substantial debts threaten everything the group has achieved, and Frankie finds himself shouldering responsibilities that extend far beyond his considerable talents as a singer.

What emerges is something approaching a classical journey of redemption. The financial debt becomes almost inseparable from the emotional debts these men owe one another, and the unwritten codes of loyalty that once held them together become increasingly difficult to sustain.

There is a wonderful irony here: Jersey Boys becomes a considerably more compelling piece of theatre precisely when the group at its centre begins to fall apart.

The second act also benefits from a more purposeful relationship between music and narrative. The songs are no longer simply markers of commercial success but increasingly illuminate the personal struggles unfolding around them. Numbers such as Can’t Take My Eyes Off You and Working My Way Back to You consequently carry an emotional weight beyond their immediate musical appeal.

The production’s familiar industrial scaffolding, projections and tightly coordinated choreography provide an effective visual framework, allowing the action to move briskly between recording studios, nightclubs and the more troubled private lives of its protagonists. There is an admirable economy to the staging, and when the full musical ensemble finds its stride, the Playhouse is filled with the exhilarating sound that has sustained this show for two decades.

Perhaps the most interesting idea running beneath all those immaculate harmonies is that The Four Seasons were, in many respects, a substitute family. Like most families, they were bound together by affection, resentment, obligation and competing recollections of the past. Their greatest achievement was creating something beautiful together, even when their individual lives were anything but harmonious.

Having awarded a previous production five stars, I approached this latest incarnation with considerable expectations. It doesn’t quite achieve the sustained momentum of that earlier encounter, and the comparatively sluggish first act, together with a few elements of storytelling that have not aged particularly gracefully, prevents it from reaching the very highest mark.

Nevertheless, the second half more than justifies the evening, bringing together an irresistible musical catalogue and a genuinely affecting story of ambition, loyalty and redemption.

Twenty years on, Jersey Boys still knows how to bring the house down. It just takes a little longer to get there this time.

Reviewer: Greg Holstead

Reviewed: 12th October 2026

North West End UK Rating:

Running time – 2hrs 45mins (including interval)