The Drowsy Chaperone by Bob Martin, Don McKellar, Lisa Lambert, Greg Morrison (Novello Theatre, London)
It's a total valentine to musical theatre, and specifically musical theatre from a more optimistic age. It both satirises and celebrates, as we have come to expect from Broadway imports since The Producers and Spamalot. But more, much more than this, it does something nothing else from post-modern Broadway has ever managed - it dramatises the very heart of why musicals matter so much. There is an underlying tow of great sadness from Man In Chair (Bob Martin himself, direct from the Broadway company) as he plays us his favourite cast album which comes to miraculous life before our eyes. The show never explains this melancholy undercurrent or attempts any real exposition of it, for to do so would be to succumb to self-pity and that's something that will never happen in a true-blue Broadway show. It's just there, as it always is in a great musical, the Yin against which musical theatre's Yan - its optimism and transformational powers - are pitched. Wonderful.

