Inspired by a real historical incident, the new musical Redcliffe tackles an issue that remains relevant today: the criminalisation of consensual homosexual relationships, which still exists in many countries. Between 1752 and 1753, William Critchard and Richard Arnold were accused of sodomy, an offence punishable by death in Britain at the time. Their story survives through contemporary newspaper accounts and a rare witness statement uncovered in the Bristol archives in 2023. In bringing this material to the stage, Jordan Luke Gage, who wrote the book, music and lyrics, takes considerable liberties with the historical record. Arnold was a publican in his sixties and Critchard a twenty-four-year-old footman when the two men were observed together in a private room at a Bristol alehouse. Dramatic licence is not in itself a problem, but while the details have been reshaped, the characters at the centre of the story never become fully realised individuals. The principal weakness of Redcliffe is that Critchard and Arnold remain stubbornly two dimensional. Their romance and its tragic outcome function primarily as illustrations of a political and moral argument rather than as the story of two complex human beings. This show’s didactic purpose is never far from the surface. Even William’s sister, Abigail, is drawn less as a character than as a vehicle for a secondary lesson in female emancipation, discovering that her ambitions need not be confined to marriage. The writing also suffers from inconsistencies: at one moment Abigail can barely read yet at another she is visiting libraries and researching legal precedents. Part of the problem may be that Gage has taken on too many responsibilities. As writer, composer, lyricist and leading actor, he carries much of the production on his shoulders. His performance is compelling, and there is genuine emotional connection in his scenes with Daniel Krikler. However, the musical’s book reduces the material to an almost clichéd coming-out, first-love narrative, lacking the emotional and psychological complexity one might expect from a story rooted in such extraordinary historical circumstances. Indeed, it never develops beyond the level of a work such as Heartstopper, despite dealing with far higher stakes. While the score successfully avoids the relentless rock bombast that characterises many contemporary musicals, it rarely proves memorable. There are several effective performance numbers and moments of emotional force, but few melodies linger in the mind after the curtain falls. Redcliffe is a sincere and well-intentioned work. Its values are clear, and its condemnation of the persecution of gay men in eighteenth century Britain and today is unequivocal. However, the musical’s commitment to its message comes at the expense of dramatic complexity. In seeking to illuminate an injustice that still resonates today, it never quite persuades us that William Critchard and Richard Arnold are more than symbols of that injustice. As a result, the historical tragedy that inspired the show remains more compelling than the drama it has produced. The irony is that a musical concerned with restoring humanity to two men condemned by history never quite manages to make them fully human on stage.
Rated: ★★★
Reviewed by J.C.
Photo by Pamela Raith
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