Brassed Off - Leeds Playhouse ★★★★★

A lad in a balaclava runs across the stage, an England flag trailing behind him as he skirts a bare lamp post, whilst a soundscape of previous prime ministers, from Keir Starmer to John Major, intones promises to support and protect the interests of the working man. The country has changed in the fifty years since the pit closures, but the struggle of ‘ordinary’ people remains.

Brassed Off, set in the aptly named fictitious town of ‘Grimley’ in the mid-1980s, stirs memories of miners’ strikes, the desolation of communities and despair, seen through the eyes of the members of the Grimley Colliery band. Their very existence is under threat as the pit closure and redundancies loom. Leeds Playhouse’s new production of this play is every bit as powerful and poignant as in its first manifestation.

Central then, to this piece is the band, led by the bullishly determined Danny (David Birrell), himself a retired miner. His mining son, Phil (Robin Morrissey), is still suffering financially and mentally from his incarceration after an incident in a previous strike. The relationship between these two is powerfully Northern and beautifully played: the loyalty and compassion for each other signalled with little more than a glance or a pat on the shoulder but running much deeper. Morrissey’s character arc has moments of rage, exasperation, despair and affection for his family, and the switches between them are perfectly signalled.

The pit band provides a perfect backdrop for the lives of the miners to play out. The inseparable mates, Jim and Harry (Andy Cryer and Ewen Cummins), steer the mood of the rest of the ensemble, ready to pack it in when subs seem an unnecessary expense or determined to continue when an unexpected new member appears. Gloria Mullins (Maddie Hansen) has returned to her home town to carry out a survey of the mine’s viability and takes the opportunity to step into her late Grandad’s place in the band. She is more than up to the job.

The enormous appeal of this piece is the interspersing of music – live, real and powerful – from the full brass band on stage. Supporting the actor-musicians are members of the Horbury Victoria and Wakefield Metropolitan brass bands, and the sound is glorious – rich, soulful and massively affecting. Maddie Hansen, as Gloria, is a revelation as she picks up her flugelhorn to play En Arunjuez Con Tu Amor – or as the band know it more colloquially, ‘Orange Juice’. This is a spine-tingling moment as Hansen plays flawlessly, rendering the rest of the band near speechless. Talent and, clearly, her youth and beauty make her a very welcome addition, and in joining she deters others from quitting.

The fortunes of the band, through catastrophe at the Saddleworth Whit Friday competitions, to huge success in London, are juxtaposed with the ever-present fear of loss of livelihoods and communities – a fear which lurks in plain sight. And it is, of course, the music making, the camaraderie of the band members and those that support them, which is seen as a saviour. As Danny says, ‘Long after the last P45 and ton of coal, there will still be music.’ This, and the memory of it, will be his legacy, as will the community that rallied round the band. The playing of Danny Boy, as the band-leader lies ill in hospital, is a pin-drop moment.

Amy Leach has directed this subtly updated piece to be entirely relevant to the 21^st century audience. Bookending it with that image of the intolerant flag-waver, there is an added pathos – a comment on our society of an aspect of British life that we have been unable to shake off.

This is a production, though, that strongly signals that out of loss and despair can come hope and a future. The brass music stirs emotions so vigorously that it is impossible not to fall in love with it, and it is what will be so well remembered from Brassed Off – that and the ensemble which so generously offered it.