<a target="_blank" href="https://www.buzzsprout.com/twilio/text_messages/2165406/open_sms">Send us a text</a>A single line, one defiant kid, and a school hall full of nerves—somehow it all becomes magic. We ring out season three with a warm, funny, and surprisingly tender celebration of Nativity The Musical, using it to ask a bigger question: what happens when children are given the space to shine and adults get brave enough to follow their lead? From Mr Poppy’s joyful chaos to that final burst of Sparkle And Shine, we unpack how heart, humour, and community beat perfection every time. Along the way, we unwrap a stocking of theatre news and festive viewing. We get giddy about an Alan Cumming-led My Fair Lady with Maria Friedman at the helm, debate Cabaret’s new arrivals at the Kit Kat Club, and toast Paddington The Musical booking deep into 2027. We also tip you to the National Lottery’s Big Night of Musicals and a packed slate of Christmas musical films, including Kiss Me, Kate, Matilda, and more. It’s a mini guide for anyone craving live theatre, cast recordings, or a comforting classic on the sofa. Back in the school hall, we talk arts education, stage fright, and the thrill of seeing a child spot their family in the crowd. There are honest stories—being cast as Herod and stealing the show with one line, the strange nerves of public readings, and the way a community forms when people turn up and cheer. If you love musical theatre, care about kids finding their voice, or just need a wholesome laugh with your mince pie, this one’s for you. If this brought you joy, tap follow, share it with a theatre-loving friend, and leave a quick review. Your words help more listeners find our little corner of musical magic. End of MLL<a rel="payment" href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/musicallyr6">Support the show</a>Don&apos;t forget to rate us, share with your friends and follow us on our social media channels.

<description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a target="_blank" href="https://www.buzzsprout.com/twilio/text_messages/2165406/open_sms"&gt;Send us a text&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A single line, one defiant kid, and a school hall full of nerves—somehow it all becomes magic. We ring out season three with a warm, funny, and surprisingly tender celebration of Nativity The Musical, using it to ask a bigger question: what happens when children are given the space to shine and adults get brave enough to follow their lead? From Mr Poppy’s joyful chaos to that final burst of Sparkle And Shine, we unpack how heart, humour, and community beat perfection every time.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Along the way, we unwrap a stocking of theatre news and festive viewing. We get giddy about an Alan Cumming-led My Fair Lady with Maria Friedman at the helm, debate Cabaret’s new arrivals at the Kit Kat Club, and toast Paddington The Musical booking deep into 2027. We also tip you to the National Lottery’s Big Night of Musicals and a packed slate of Christmas musical films, including Kiss Me, Kate, Matilda, and more. It’s a mini guide for anyone craving live theatre, cast recordings, or a comforting classic on the sofa.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Back in the school hall, we talk arts education, stage fright, and the thrill of seeing a child spot their family in the crowd. There are honest stories—being cast as Herod and stealing the show with one line, the strange nerves of public readings, and the way a community forms when people turn up and cheer. If you love musical theatre, care about kids finding their voice, or just need a wholesome laugh with your mince pie, this one’s for you.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;If this brought you joy, tap follow, share it with a theatre-loving friend, and leave a quick review. Your words help more listeners find our little corner of musical magic.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;End of MLL&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a rel="payment" href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/musicallyr6"&gt;Support the show&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Don&amp;apos;t forget to rate us, share with your friends and follow us on our social media channels.&lt;/p&gt;</description>

Send us a text A single line, one defiant kid, and a school hall full of nerves—somehow it all becomes magic. We ring out season three with a warm, funny, and surprisingly tender celebration of Nativity The Musical, using it to ask a bigger question: what happens when children are given the space to shine and adults get brave enough to follow their lead? From Mr Poppy’s joyful chaos to that final burst of Sparkle And Shine, we unpack how heart, humour, and community beat perfection every time...

From School Plays To Stage Magic: Lessons From Nativity The Musical

<a target="_blank" href="https://www.buzzsprout.com/twilio/text_messages/2165406/open_sms">Send us a text</a>A tap break that sounds like a typewriter, a flapper’s bob as a battle cry, and a nine-day sprint that turned an understudy into a Broadway star—this is Thoroughly Modern Millie at full voltage. We revisit the show’s glittering craft and ask what it takes to keep its joy without repeating its harm. We start with fresh theatre headlines—Alexandra Burke stepping into Chaka Khan, and Luke Evans strutting toward Rocky Horror—then pivot into Millie’s world. Jeanine Tesori’s buoyant score and Dick Scanlan’s lyrics conjure a 1920s New York brimming with ambition, reinvention, and jazz-age swagger. We unpack Sutton Foster’s legendary leap to the title role, celebrate the female-forward casting canvas, and relive choreography highlights like the typewriter-tap sequence that turns office bustle into percussive theatre. Then we tackle the show’s fault line: a subplot built on racial caricature and human trafficking. We explore how licensing changes and thoughtful direction can remove the racial disguise, cast the brothers with dignity, and reposition the villain without cheap laughs. The goal is clear—honour the show’s heart while repairing what harms. Along the way, we decode the period references threaded through the songs—Brooks Brothers, coupon-clipping thrift, the bob’s quiet revolt, and makeup moving from taboo to mainstream—as proof that Millie is ultimately about social change. If you love craft, care about context, and believe classics can evolve, this one’s for you. Subscribe, share with a theatre friend, and leave a review with your take: how would you reframe Millie for today’s stage? End of MLL<a rel="payment" href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/musicallyr6">Support the show</a>Don&apos;t forget to rate us, share with your friends and follow us on our social media channels.

<description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a target="_blank" href="https://www.buzzsprout.com/twilio/text_messages/2165406/open_sms"&gt;Send us a text&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A tap break that sounds like a typewriter, a flapper’s bob as a battle cry, and a nine-day sprint that turned an understudy into a Broadway star—this is Thoroughly Modern Millie at full voltage. We revisit the show’s glittering craft and ask what it takes to keep its joy without repeating its harm.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;We start with fresh theatre headlines—Alexandra Burke stepping into Chaka Khan, and Luke Evans strutting toward Rocky Horror—then pivot into Millie’s world. Jeanine Tesori’s buoyant score and Dick Scanlan’s lyrics conjure a 1920s New York brimming with ambition, reinvention, and jazz-age swagger. We unpack Sutton Foster’s legendary leap to the title role, celebrate the female-forward casting canvas, and relive choreography highlights like the typewriter-tap sequence that turns office bustle into percussive theatre.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Then we tackle the show’s fault line: a subplot built on racial caricature and human trafficking. We explore how licensing changes and thoughtful direction can remove the racial disguise, cast the brothers with dignity, and reposition the villain without cheap laughs. The goal is clear—honour the show’s heart while repairing what harms. Along the way, we decode the period references threaded through the songs—Brooks Brothers, coupon-clipping thrift, the bob’s quiet revolt, and makeup moving from taboo to mainstream—as proof that Millie is ultimately about social change.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;If you love craft, care about context, and believe classics can evolve, this one’s for you. Subscribe, share with a theatre friend, and leave a review with your take: how would you reframe Millie for today’s stage?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;End of MLL&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a rel="payment" href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/musicallyr6"&gt;Support the show&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Don&amp;apos;t forget to rate us, share with your friends and follow us on our social media channels.&lt;/p&gt;</description>

Send us a text A tap break that sounds like a typewriter, a flapper’s bob as a battle cry, and a nine-day sprint that turned an understudy into a Broadway star—this is Thoroughly Modern Millie at full voltage. We revisit the show’s glittering craft and ask what it takes to keep its joy without repeating its harm.  We start with fresh theatre headlines—Alexandra Burke stepping into Chaka Khan, and Luke Evans strutting toward Rocky Horror—then pivot into Millie’s world. Jeanine Tesori’s buoyant...

Thoroughly Modern Milly 

<a target="_blank" href="https://www.buzzsprout.com/twilio/text_messages/2165406/open_sms">Send us a text</a>A twig for a tree, a guilty love of bad Christmas movies, and the sound of a dog “tap dancing” set a playful scene before we dive into the real star: a brand-new Christmas musical called Jack Frost at The MAC Belfast. We sit down with writer Ali Harding and choreographer Jennifer Rooney to unpack how a spark turned into an epic winter adventure with twelve original songs, a celestial court, and a snow globe that holds the heart of the season. Ali shares why she stepped from performer to writer after decades of Christmas shows and how Jack became the perfect canvas—light on lore, rich with possibility. Together with director Cameron Menzies and composer Katie Richardson, the team built a world that feels cinematic on stage: a village in winter, storms that crack the ground, martial-arts-inspired battles, and character moments that land with heart. There’s Hoot the Owl, a scene-stealing diva with lines for the grown-ups, Jon Snow’s gentle humour for kids, and a ballad—lovingly adapted from Ali’s late brother—that delivers a quiet emotional punch. Expect monsters and loud moments too, balanced with relaxed performances for sensitive audiences. We talk about the craft behind the magic: overwriting so you can cut in rehearsal, writing with empathy for actors’ quick changes and breath, and shaping movement that reads as elemental power rather than busy traffic. With only seven performers, the company had to conjure a village, a journey, and a battle for balance across the seasons. The result is tight, vivid, and designed so families leave feeling lifted. If you care about theatre-making, festive storytelling, and the kind of belief that gets people through tough winters, this one hits home. If you enjoyed the conversation, follow the show, share it with a theatre-loving friend, and leave a review to help more listeners find us. Got a favourite Christmas stage memory or character you’d be—Jack, Hoot, Krampus, or Jon Snow? Tell us in your review and tag us on socials. End of MLL<a rel="payment" href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/musicallyr6">Support the show</a>Don&apos;t forget to rate us, share with your friends and follow us on our social media channels.

<description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a target="_blank" href="https://www.buzzsprout.com/twilio/text_messages/2165406/open_sms"&gt;Send us a text&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A twig for a tree, a guilty love of bad Christmas movies, and the sound of a dog “tap dancing” set a playful scene before we dive into the real star: a brand-new Christmas musical called Jack Frost at The MAC Belfast. We sit down with writer Ali Harding and choreographer Jennifer Rooney to unpack how a spark turned into an epic winter adventure with twelve original songs, a celestial court, and a snow globe that holds the heart of the season.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Ali shares why she stepped from performer to writer after decades of Christmas shows and how Jack became the perfect canvas—light on lore, rich with possibility. Together with director Cameron Menzies and composer Katie Richardson, the team built a world that feels cinematic on stage: a village in winter, storms that crack the ground, martial-arts-inspired battles, and character moments that land with heart. There’s Hoot the Owl, a scene-stealing diva with lines for the grown-ups, Jon Snow’s gentle humour for kids, and a ballad—lovingly adapted from Ali’s late brother—that delivers a quiet emotional punch. Expect monsters and loud moments too, balanced with relaxed performances for sensitive audiences.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;We talk about the craft behind the magic: overwriting so you can cut in rehearsal, writing with empathy for actors’ quick changes and breath, and shaping movement that reads as elemental power rather than busy traffic. With only seven performers, the company had to conjure a village, a journey, and a battle for balance across the seasons. The result is tight, vivid, and designed so families leave feeling lifted. If you care about theatre-making, festive storytelling, and the kind of belief that gets people through tough winters, this one hits home.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;If you enjoyed the conversation, follow the show, share it with a theatre-loving friend, and leave a review to help more listeners find us. Got a favourite Christmas stage memory or character you’d be—Jack, Hoot, Krampus, or Jon Snow? Tell us in your review and tag us on socials.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;End of MLL&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a rel="payment" href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/musicallyr6"&gt;Support the show&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Don&amp;apos;t forget to rate us, share with your friends and follow us on our social media channels.&lt;/p&gt;</description>

Send us a text A twig for a tree, a guilty love of bad Christmas movies, and the sound of a dog “tap dancing” set a playful scene before we dive into the real star: a brand-new Christmas musical called Jack Frost at The MAC Belfast. We sit down with writer Ali Harding and choreographer Jennifer Rooney to unpack how a spark turned into an epic winter adventure with twelve original songs, a celestial court, and a snow globe that holds the heart of the season.  Ali shares why she stepped from pe...

Jack Frost At The MAC

<a target="_blank" href="https://www.buzzsprout.com/twilio/text_messages/2165406/open_sms">Send us a text</a>Defying gravity is easy. Living with the aftermath is the hard part. We sat down after a packed Friday screening of Wicked For Good to trade notes on what soared, what sagged, and why the second act chooses substance over spectacle. From the first quiet frames to that cheeky final shot, the film wears its love for musical theatre on its sleeve—smart foreshadowing, respectful echoes of the stage, and a visual language that rewards a careful eye. We dig into the choices that matter: the deliberate pacing that lets propaganda and power take centre stage, the richer world-building around the animals and the Yellow Brick Road, and the way Glinda steps into the light as more than a sparkly foil. No Good Deed is our unanimous showstopper—Cynthia Erivo’s delivery thunders with purpose—while the two new songs split the room. Glinda’s The Girl in the Bubble is lovely but optional; Elphaba’s No Place Like Home never quite integrates with Schwartz’s gold-standard writing. If any character deserved fresh music, we argue it was Nessa, whose arc needed sharper edges and clearer stakes. We also talk tenderness: Elphaba and Fiyero’s intimacy rendered with restraint, the doorframe farewell that aches without tipping into melodrama, and the Wizard’s late realisation that lands like a confession. Morrible’s manipulations feel uncomfortably current, and the film is at its best when it shows how crowds choose the story they prefer. Throughout, the cinematography nods to Oz lore without winking too hard, and the final image pays a subtle, satisfying tribute to the original poster that musical fans will clock in a heartbeat. If you love musicals, there’s plenty to admire: craft, care, and a sincere respect for the stage. If you wanted wall-to-wall bangers, Part Two asks for patience—and pays it off with character, consequence, and a duet that still makes the room hold its breath. Loved it? Hated the new songs? Tell us your standout moment, then follow the show, leave a review, and share this episode with a friend who sings show tunes in the car. End of MLL<a rel="payment" href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/musicallyr6">Support the show</a>Don&apos;t forget to rate us, share with your friends and follow us on our social media channels.

<description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a target="_blank" href="https://www.buzzsprout.com/twilio/text_messages/2165406/open_sms"&gt;Send us a text&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Defying gravity is easy. Living with the aftermath is the hard part. We sat down after a packed Friday screening of Wicked For Good to trade notes on what soared, what sagged, and why the second act chooses substance over spectacle. From the first quiet frames to that cheeky final shot, the film wears its love for musical theatre on its sleeve—smart foreshadowing, respectful echoes of the stage, and a visual language that rewards a careful eye.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;We dig into the choices that matter: the deliberate pacing that lets propaganda and power take centre stage, the richer world-building around the animals and the Yellow Brick Road, and the way Glinda steps into the light as more than a sparkly foil. No Good Deed is our unanimous showstopper—Cynthia Erivo’s delivery thunders with purpose—while the two new songs split the room. Glinda’s The Girl in the Bubble is lovely but optional; Elphaba’s No Place Like Home never quite integrates with Schwartz’s gold-standard writing. If any character deserved fresh music, we argue it was Nessa, whose arc needed sharper edges and clearer stakes.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;We also talk tenderness: Elphaba and Fiyero’s intimacy rendered with restraint, the doorframe farewell that aches without tipping into melodrama, and the Wizard’s late realisation that lands like a confession. Morrible’s manipulations feel uncomfortably current, and the film is at its best when it shows how crowds choose the story they prefer. Throughout, the cinematography nods to Oz lore without winking too hard, and the final image pays a subtle, satisfying tribute to the original poster that musical fans will clock in a heartbeat.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;If you love musicals, there’s plenty to admire: craft, care, and a sincere respect for the stage. If you wanted wall-to-wall bangers, Part Two asks for patience—and pays it off with character, consequence, and a duet that still makes the room hold its breath. Loved it? Hated the new songs? Tell us your standout moment, then follow the show, leave a review, and share this episode with a friend who sings show tunes in the car.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;End of MLL&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a rel="payment" href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/musicallyr6"&gt;Support the show&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Don&amp;apos;t forget to rate us, share with your friends and follow us on our social media channels.&lt;/p&gt;</description>

Send us a text Defying gravity is easy. Living with the aftermath is the hard part. We sat down after a packed Friday screening of Wicked For Good to trade notes on what soared, what sagged, and why the second act chooses substance over spectacle. From the first quiet frames to that cheeky final shot, the film wears its love for musical theatre on its sleeve—smart foreshadowing, respectful echoes of the stage, and a visual language that rewards a careful eye.  We dig into the choices that mat...

Wicked For Good Reviewed

<a target="_blank" href="https://www.buzzsprout.com/twilio/text_messages/2165406/open_sms">Send us a text</a>A week of pure theatre joy collided with our favourite kind of head-scratching: we cheered the Wicked concert on telly, melted over Paddington the Musical’s adorable staging, then rolled up our sleeves for a frank, funny tour of Pippin’s brilliant weirdness. From marmalade charm to circus edge, the theme is the same: how musicals seduce us with shimmer while nudging us toward something real. We start with the big headlines. Wicked’s TV special hints at the future of musical marketing, mixing a 37-piece orchestra with world-premiere sneak peeks. Paddington opens in London with a quietly dazzling twist: two performers share the bear, one inside the suit and one off-stage handling voice and facial animation. It looks warm, inventive and right. And yes, Avenue Q has the West End buzzing again, because who doesn’t want a two-puppet day? Then we zoom in on Pippin. Stephen Schwartz’s score is a treasure box: Magic to Do, Corner of the Sky, Morning Glow and No Time at All sound fresh, hooky and surprisingly tender. Yet the show’s conceit—a troupe led by a charismatic ringmaster luring a prince toward meaning via spectacle—still splits rooms. We unpack why the story confuses, where Fosse’s fingerprints sharpen the edge, and how Patina Miller’s leading player in the 2013 revival reframed the role with gender-flipped power. Along the way we dig into the show’s odd milestones, like Broadway’s first TV ad showing onstage footage, and the way schools love Pippin for its ensemble, even as parents ask what on earth just happened. The takeaway is simple and thorny. Beware charisma that promises the perfect ending. Compromise is not failure; it’s adulthood. And sometimes the bravest choice is a quiet life with the people you love. Cue a final nod to the cast recordings, some lyrics worth framing, and a few laughs about overtures, puppets, and the eternal pull of a hummable tune. If this mix of hype and honesty hits home, follow the show, leave a quick review, and share this episode with a theatre friend who still argues about Pippin’s ending. What should we see first on our London trip—Paddington or Avenue Q? End of MLL<a rel="payment" href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/musicallyr6">Support the show</a>Don&apos;t forget to rate us, share with your friends and follow us on our social media channels.

<description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a target="_blank" href="https://www.buzzsprout.com/twilio/text_messages/2165406/open_sms"&gt;Send us a text&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A week of pure theatre joy collided with our favourite kind of head-scratching: we cheered the Wicked concert on telly, melted over Paddington the Musical’s adorable staging, then rolled up our sleeves for a frank, funny tour of Pippin’s brilliant weirdness. From marmalade charm to circus edge, the theme is the same: how musicals seduce us with shimmer while nudging us toward something real.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;We start with the big headlines. Wicked’s TV special hints at the future of musical marketing, mixing a 37-piece orchestra with world-premiere sneak peeks. Paddington opens in London with a quietly dazzling twist: two performers share the bear, one inside the suit and one off-stage handling voice and facial animation. It looks warm, inventive and right. And yes, Avenue Q has the West End buzzing again, because who doesn’t want a two-puppet day?&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Then we zoom in on Pippin. Stephen Schwartz’s score is a treasure box: Magic to Do, Corner of the Sky, Morning Glow and No Time at All sound fresh, hooky and surprisingly tender. Yet the show’s conceit—a troupe led by a charismatic ringmaster luring a prince toward meaning via spectacle—still splits rooms. We unpack why the story confuses, where Fosse’s fingerprints sharpen the edge, and how Patina Miller’s leading player in the 2013 revival reframed the role with gender-flipped power. Along the way we dig into the show’s odd milestones, like Broadway’s first TV ad showing onstage footage, and the way schools love Pippin for its ensemble, even as parents ask what on earth just happened.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;The takeaway is simple and thorny. Beware charisma that promises the perfect ending. Compromise is not failure; it’s adulthood. And sometimes the bravest choice is a quiet life with the people you love. Cue a final nod to the cast recordings, some lyrics worth framing, and a few laughs about overtures, puppets, and the eternal pull of a hummable tune.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;If this mix of hype and honesty hits home, follow the show, leave a quick review, and share this episode with a theatre friend who still argues about Pippin’s ending. What should we see first on our London trip—Paddington or Avenue Q?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;End of MLL&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a rel="payment" href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/musicallyr6"&gt;Support the show&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Don&amp;apos;t forget to rate us, share with your friends and follow us on our social media channels.&lt;/p&gt;</description>

Send us a text A week of pure theatre joy collided with our favourite kind of head-scratching: we cheered the Wicked concert on telly, melted over Paddington the Musical’s adorable staging, then rolled up our sleeves for a frank, funny tour of Pippin’s brilliant weirdness. From marmalade charm to circus edge, the theme is the same: how musicals seduce us with shimmer while nudging us toward something real.  We start with the big headlines. Wicked’s TV special hints at the future of musical ma...

Pippin, Season 3 EP33

We're Musical Lyrical Lingo!&nbsp; Join Tim and Lj who delve deep into the wonderful world of musical theatre and more importantly the lessons they have learned from different musicals.&nbsp; Join them as they explore some of the greatest musicals ever created, from the classics to the new and exciting shows that continue to teach us something new.&nbsp; So whether you're a seasoned fan of the stage or a newcomer, this podcast is for you.&nbsp; So sit back, relax and get ready to immerse yourself in the world of musical theatre. &nbsp;RSSVERIFY

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