A good tale is always worth retelling, especially a musical version and especially if the playwright, composer and lyricist is Willy Russell, who always has something worth saying. It is a long way from the 1844 novella The Corsican Brothers by Alexandre Dumas but the 1983 variation on the theme of  twin boys, here Michael and Edward Johnstone, separated at birth and raised in starkly contrasting conditions, provides all the tensions of entertaining melodrama as well as a focus for more thoughtful observation. 

So the ‘nature versus nurture’ idea is well explored, but there is more. Michael Johnstone is not only born into desperate poverty, his whole life will be shaped by the price that factory workers in Thatcher’s Britain had to pay for the prosperity of those at the other end of the social scale. That end is where his twin Edward ends up after Mrs Johnstone is forced to give him away to the wife of the well-to-do Mr Lyons.

In spite of their different upbringings, the lives of the brothers are inextricably intertwined all the way to the tragic end they share, never escaping the tenements of Liverpool where it all starts. 

The Willy Russell touch goes further. The mothers’ deal is sealed in secrecy but that ‘unnatural act’ has a Faustian echo, whose dark undertones reverberate through the action. Everything has to be paid for and no one will escape the cruel extinction of dreams. Marilyn Monroe, that symbol of sweetest fantasy, is referenced throughout. She couldn’t make it either. We live, suggests Russell on the ‘never never’ plan, and bright new days cannot be counted on. His uncompromising vision is tempered by music you want to listen to and join in. 

For all the grim territory it covers, the work has been hugely popular since its appearance in 1983, finally closing on the West End in 2012. A play with music or a full blown musical? Stephen Robertson’s concept relies, he says, on the varying ‘creative impulses’ of his production team. The collective instinct seems to lean towards full-blown musical, with sound and performance turned up to full, carrying an undeniable impact. 

Enhancing this approach and relishing the rhythm and tunefulness of Russell’s score, Richard Marrett ensures a heady performance from all. The band (keyboard Richard Marrett or Hamish Oliver, drums Mitchell Thomas, bass Michael Story, guitar Michael Ferrar) gives us music to underscore every step on the journey. Lighting design by Giles Tanner, sound design and effects by Ben Rentoul/BounceNZ and Sean Hawkins respectively match the vision.

The action is conceived in Brechtian terms with a darkly present Narrator (Matt Pike) to voice and play on superstition, while overtly keeping sentiment at bay. A vigorous ensemble fills out the world of the play. Martyn Wood, Jordan Nicholson, Tizane McEvoy and Chris Symon are well up to the challenge, carrying many of the funny moments which lighten the essentially painful story. Roy Snow as the prosperous Mr Lyons and Nick Purdie as a third, older brother Sammy, also carry more than one role, making the switches with assurance.

Kathleen Burns plays a convincing Linda, the feisty childhood sweetheart who will come between the brothers and Juliet Reynolds-Midgley, the stricken Mrs Lyons, who faces her own despair as her secret and hopes lead her to the worst of all outcomes. 

The lads themselves are well paired. Benjamin Hoetjes and Cameron Douglas as Micky (Michael) and Eddie (Edward) are in fine voice and translate their contrasting backgrounds into clear physical reality. Their hapless mother, the pitiable Mrs Johnstone, is played with great sympathy by the versatile Ali Harper.  

A standing ovation rewarded the opening night performance, proving the durability of this deeply human account, laced by music which will not let you go. Sentiment and violence are still a recipe for compelling theatre, especially when spiced with those lingering superstitions we can’t quite let go.

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