Manic Street Creature ★★★★

New to London, Ria takes unpaid gigs in small Camden pubs in the hope of making it as a musician. But as she meets Daniel and is swept up into a budding new relationship, trying to support his fight with bipolar disorder begins to swallow up her life. Through song, writer and actor Maimuna Memon brings forward the struggles of living in London and the challenge of supporting a depressive loved one. She shared his trauma as her own, conflicted with burdens of guilt, responsibility, dependency and love. Moving in both its journey and its music, this delicate exploration of purpose comes to the stage at the Kiln Theatre.

Manic Street Creature doesn’t fit within the typical characteristics of a musical. With constant interactions between the musicians, who, alongside rotating between different instruments, also contribute backing vocals and small multi-role characters, the form initially feels confusing to place. The audience is caught between a concert performance, a theatrical play and a musical. Although the recording studio setting is a clever environment in which to bring the story, or ‘album’, forward, its lack of grounded genre can be read as an uncertain creative choice.

The band of musicians alongside Memon as the protagonist Ria is formed of the multi-talented Rachel Barnes, Sam Beveridge and Harley Johnston. Bonded in sparkling chemistry, the four switch masterfully between different instruments, with director Kirsty Patrick Ward awarding each change with choreographed care. Transitions between songs never come across as simple scene changeovers but as structural beats within the story. Methodological pauses for Ria to delve further into her memories with Daniel.

Memon has taken on a mammoth task, writing the entire script, music and lyrics while also performing the lead role of Ria. Filled with emotion, courage and personal vulnerability, she delivers not only a convincing performance but also a devastating one. As the songs unfold, tears are inevitable, and a bittersweet truth about the UK’s mental health services emerges. In pitch blackness, a prerecorded voiceover captures Ria calling the emergency services, panicked over Daniel’s confessed suicidal thoughts, only to be met with a blasé “What is his NHS number?” Despite the support of therapists, psychiatrists and on-call services, Ria repeatedly encounters procedures and unkindness, forced to confront the situation largely alone.

Sadly, Memon’s proud Lancashire accent disappears in certain songs, sometimes replaced with unwarranted riffs and vocal eccentricities. While still musically impressive, this occasionally over-stylised flair can feel overly embellished. Small moments of millennial humour and occasional overdramatic facial expressions mean that not all comedic beats land as intended.

Although the production has successfully expanded to a larger audience and venue compared to past fringe performances, it is a shame to lose the intimacy of a smaller in-the-round space, such as its previous run at the Roundabout, Summerhall, during the 2022 Edinburgh Fringe. Nevertheless, despite this shift, Manic Street Creature remains a cleanly rehearsed and emotionally affecting production.