Review: Ghost the Musical at Liverpool Empire ****

The current cinema scene may be awash with superhero franchises, action thrillers and animated sequels. But back in 1990, the two biggest big screen hits of the year were all about the romance.

And pipping Pretty Woman to the post for top draw at the box office was Ghost, the haunting (literally) story of young lovers, banker Sam Wheat and sculptor Molly Jensen, torn asunder by Sam’s brutal murder but with his spirit lingering on in limbo to protect his beloved from harm.

The film’s impact can also be measured perhaps by the sheer number of subsequent parodies of, and cultural references to, its most famous scene – that one involving Patrick Swayze, Demi Moore, a potter’s wheel, warbling Righteous Brothers and some phallic playing with clay that would definitely be frowned upon were it to be attempted on the Great Pottery Throw Down.

Joel Bruce Rubin’s tale was first brought to the stage in musical form back in 2011 when illusionist Paul Kieve harnessed complicated state-of-the-art technical trickery and mixed it with sleight of hand stagecraft to create life AND the afterlife at the same time.

It was later reworked as a more manageable touring production by Bill Kenwright, one where the supernatural action was rendered largely with a mixture of lighting choices and misdirection techniques, leaving the romantic tragedy’s central story to take centre stage.

And while a few of the special effects could perhaps be executed more smoothly, that compelling central story certainly shines bright in this latest production which has plenty of emotional heart thanks to Josh St Clair and Rebekah Lowings as the lovebirds parted by a tragic late-night mugging as they walk home to their aspirational Brooklyn loft apartment.

Lowings reprises the role of Molly after playing her when the musical last came to Liverpool five years ago, and she succeeds in making you feel both the love and agony experienced by Molly as she tries to come to terms with her bereavement, while St Clair is also eminently watchable as Sam, both alive…and dead.

Above: Jacqui Dubois as Oda Mae Brown and Josh St Clair as Sam. Top: St Clair as Sam and Rebekah Lowings as Molly. Photos by Alastair Muir.

He also plays a nice line in comedy, and his other main stage partnership – with Jacqui Dubois’s faux psychic Oda Mae Brown, to whom Sam turns in desperation to make himself heard from the limbo he shares with an angry subway ghost (a genuinely disquieting Garry Lee), and a chatty hospital hanger on (Jamie Pritchard on press night who charmed with his song You Gotta Let Go Now) – is an light-hearted antidote to the angst elsewhere.

Dubois, also returning from 2019, brings a winning dose of attitude and plenty of sass to her grumbling medium who is drawn into Sam and Molly’s troubles despite her best attempts to wriggle free, and ultimately becomes the pathway through which they can finally reconnect.

Lowings and St Clair sing sweetly and well, while Dubois adds powerful vocals to a big stage presence.

Dave Stewart and Glen Ballard’s music and lyrics are melodic if ultimately unmemorable – the best numbers are the spirited, gospel-like Are You a Believer? and Molly’s poignant ballad Nothing Stops Another Day which has a hint of Joni Mitchell about it.

Unchained Melody, the song you definitely will still be humming on the way home, appears in snatches three times through the show, including during THAT scene.

And as with that other key cinematic Swayze moment (hint, it involves Baby and corners), there’s an definite frisson of expectation among the audience when the potter’s wheel arrives from stage right.