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‘It’s a terrible idea for a show’ says the actor playing Henry Fraser in the early moments of new musical ‘The Big Little Things’. But don’t believe him. This story, based on the memoir of the same name written by the real-life Henry Fraser about the 2009 holiday accident that changed his life forever and left him paralysed from the neck down tingles with tenderness, defiance and spirit.
The show, adapted by Joe White, tracks Henry’s life from a carefree, rugby-obsessed 17-year-old through the traumas of his sudden disability, up to the beginnings of his successful career as a painter. Each chapter is rich with surprise as well as sadness and new adventure. Centred around a conversation between Henry pre-accident (Jonny Amies) and post-accident (Ed Larkin), the show relays his battle to come to terms with his new life and let go of the one that came before.
Both Henrys give performances mighty enough to tear your soul. Amies has a voice so ripe, it makes any song he sings sound effortless. Together they are two halves of one whole – much of the musical’s humour comes from the moments when they jointly chorus about their teenage crush or cringe at the other’s behaviour. The supporting cast is perfectly pitched too. Henry’s Dad is played so exquisitely by Alasdair Harvey, with all the pent-up feeling of a man unable to properly express himself, that my eyes begin to water nearly every time he opens his mouth.
The punch of this heart-soaring production is that it clings onto the light within the darkness – and there's giggles aplenty. Amy Trigg, who is perhaps the hidden gem within this wildly talented company, has one cracking one-liner after another as wheelchair-using physiotherapist Agnes. Henry’s underwritten playground sweetheart, Katie (a gloriously gooey Gracie McGonigal) does get one great line: after looking at one of his paintings she declares that he is ‘better with [his] mouth than [he] ever was with his hands. The almost bare stage glows with paint splatters of colour to show different emotions. Directed by Luke Shepherd, each scene is christened with life and creativity.
It’s not flawless, mind you. The poppy songs written by Nick Butcher and Tom Ling are jolly enough when performed in the theatre, but I couldn’t hum a single one back to you now. Every so often the narrative tips too heavily into schmaltz and sentiment. But, you’d have to be totally cold-hearted to not be taken in by this extraordinary tale of fight. Conceivably it might not be fully ready, but it feels genuinely groundbreaking to see this show on a West End stage. Pass me the tissues, I’ll need a box full.