Shy factory worker Helen (Louise Brealey) has resigned herself to living in the home of her ex-husband (Celyn Jones) with his 20-year-old girlfriend (Emily Fearn), their new baby, and his dying mother Gwen (Sorcha Cusack). But Helen’s life takes an unexpected turn when former girl-next-door Joanna (Annabelle Scholey), her teenage crush, returns to town.
Historically British working-class dramas often fall – and still do – into an elaborate exercise in certain tropes and clichés. Musicals have certainly helped change some images and representations, with stage adaptations of Billy Elliot, The Full Monty, Kinky Boots and, more recently, the West End production of Standing at the Sky Edge often elevating under-represented perspectives and voices. While North Wales writer-director Janice Pugh’s musical Chuck Chuck Baby can sometimes fall into those tropes, it proves a welcome female-led addition to the canon.
Despite the oppressive nature, there is a poignant vulnerability combined with endearing humor at the heart of the central performances.
With its mixture of gritty, melodramatic social realism, fairy tales and musical whimsy (insert the recurring floating dandelion seeds, the streaking sunlight on Leith’s singles and the snowfall of chicken feathers), Chuck Chuck Baby can, at times, be tonally dissonant. But the heartfelt and poignant performances from Louise Brealey and Annabel Scholey elevate the gritty proceedings, with a sweet, touching romance that you can’t help but cheer for. Their transformative arcs are well realized, especially Helen as she grapples with the belief that she deserves a second chance at happiness, while the relationship against the odds is full of hope.
Familiar themes like feeling stuck in life and longing to escape are paired with distinct narrative beats, yet its endearing female-centric dynamics and LGBTQ+ focus (amid small-town bigotry) give it a certain freshness. Despite the oppressive nature, there is a poignant vulnerability combined with endearing humor at the heart of the central performances. Whether it’s the tenderness between Joan Brearley and the wonderful Gwen Sorcha Cusack or the supportive and entertaining friendship between the factory workers (an entertaining mushroom-filled excursion proves a highlight).
Audiophiles may be somewhat disappointed by the low-key musical elements of The Jukebox, which are often woven into the story via singing along to radios, but the Singin’ In The Rain umbrella sequence with Helen and her friends provides a delightful moment of escapism from the grind Factory life. The eclectic mix of songs includes Neil Diamond’s “I Am, I Saad,” Julie Felix’s “Dirty Old Town,” and Janis Ian’s “From Me To You.” Throughout, Pugh channels a sunny touch of nostalgia.
Despite some shaky moments, Chuck Chuck Baby is an endearing story about self-acceptance, wearing its heart entirely on its sleeve thanks to its poignant central romance and the joyful transformation of its protagonist.
