Sing Street Review: A Joyous Ode to Youth, Rebellion, and the Healing Power of Music

A Vibrant Coming-of-Age Musical That Rocks with Heart, Grit, and Synth-Pop Soul

★★★★☆

By all accounts, “Sing Street” has had one of the most turbulent journeys to the stage in recent memory. Originally slated for a 2020 Broadway debut after a well-received, sold-out run at New York Theatre Workshop in 2019, the show was stopped dead in its tracks during tech rehearsals—just as Broadway, and the world, shut down. Three years after a revival in Boston rekindled its spark, “Sing Street” has finally found its way across the Atlantic to London’s Lyric Hammersmith Theatre. And what a glorious, heartfelt, and electrifying arrival it is.

Based on John Carney’s beloved 2016 indie film of the same name, this musical adaptation captures all the raw heart, adolescent yearning, and punchy musical bravado that made the original such a cult classic. Set in Dublin during the economically bleak mid-1980s, the show follows Conor Lawlor (played by the magnetic Sheridan Townsley) as he navigates a crumbling family life, a new Catholic school full of bullies, and the ever-complicated world of teenage love. His escape? Music—and the mysterious, captivating Raphina (Grace Collender), who becomes both his muse and motivation.

Sheridan Townsley’s performance as Conor is something truly special. Making his UK professional theatre debut, Townsley doesn’t just step into the spotlight—he owns it. There’s a quiet sensitivity to his portrayal of Conor, a boy trying to hold onto hope and joy while the adults in his life spiral. His voice is smooth yet stirring, carrying both the vulnerability of a dreamer and the defiance of someone refusing to settle. I found myself waiting for each of his solos just to soak in more of his emotional range and vocal purity. His chemistry with Collender’s Raphina is palpable—charged with a sweet awkwardness that never tips into cliché.

Grace Collender, for her part, brings a grounded strength to Raphina. She avoids the typical “manic pixie dream girl” trap and instead presents a young woman yearning for escape just as much as Conor. There’s a quiet steel in her that balances beautifully with Townsley’s softer edges. Together, they make for a deeply compelling pair—two lost souls trying to write their way into a better life, one chord at a time.

The score, penned by Gary Clark and John Carney, is nothing short of a triumph. It’s original, yes, but it feels lived in, like a box of forgotten cassette tapes from your parents’ attic. With bangers like “Riddle of the Model” and the show-stopping “Drive It Like You Stole It,” the music pulses with synth-heavy authenticity, full of catchy hooks and emotional undercurrents. Every track feels like it could sit comfortably on a real 80s mixtape—and that’s the highest compliment I can give. It’s nostalgia done right: not just a wink to the past, but a genuine expression of youthful rebellion and self-discovery.

Sonya Tayeh’s choreography is another standout. Known for her kinetic, emotionally-charged movement, Tayeh strikes a wonderful balance between structured musical theatre choreography and the rough-around-the-edges feel of a teenage garage band trying to find its groove. There’s something awe-inspiring about watching these young performers not only sing and act with confidence, but also play their instruments live while moving as an ensemble. It brings an electric, almost punk-like immediacy to the stage that keeps the energy high without ever feeling overproduced.

It must be said: this cast is stacked with talent. The ensemble of young musicians feels like a real band—full of personality, awkwardness, and raw passion. Each member has their own mini-arc, their own moments of growth, and it never feels like background noise. Instead, the band becomes a character unto itself: a symbol of creative defiance in a world that often demands conformity. And the fact that these kids are doing it all live? Astonishing.

That said, it is worth noting that the narrative structure occasionally struggles to give equal weight to its subplots. Certain family dynamics and side characters—particularly Conor’s older brother Brendan, a key emotional figure in the film—don’t get as much room to breathe on stage as they perhaps deserve, though he does get a great moment towards the end where he delivers an emotional performance in “Go Now”. Some pacing issues in Act Two slightly dilute the show’s momentum before roaring back to life in the final numbers. But even in its uneven moments, the heart of “Sing Street” shines through.

Ultimately, “Sing Street” is a love letter to the 80s, to teenage dreams, and to the healing power of art in difficult times. It’s a story about carving out joy and identity amid chaos. Watching Conor and his bandmates find their voice in a repressive world feels especially timely in today’s climate. Because, as the show reminds us, when life corners you—when your school’s a prison, your parents are fighting, and your future feels bleak—you can still pick up a guitar, find your people, and drive it like you stole it.

Sing Street - Lyric Hammersmith Theatre

Attended on 2 August 2025