Broadway star Will Swenson delivers such swagger and vocal precision in A Beautiful Noise: The Neil Diamond Musical at Melbourne's Princess Theatre that the production's structural flaws dissolve the moment he opens his mouth. The show works as a jukebox musical, but it doesn't escape the hagiography trap that plagues the genre — and its therapy-session framing device becomes a drag on pacing.
The Therapy Trap
Book writer Anthony McCarten built the entire show around an 85-year-old Diamond, played by Terence Crawford, moping to a therapist about "the clouds" that gather over his thoughts. The doctor, played by Monica Sayers, pulls out a book of Diamond's complete lyrics and suggests they mine the material for insight. Songs pour out in the form of a chorus emerging from the back of his armchair — a sweetly daggy but moving moment that suggests Diamond's catalogue might fit musical theatre nicely.
But Diamond and the doctor haunt the edges of each scene, commenting pointlessly from the side and repeatedly re-establishing the moping. In the second act, the show begins to feel like an actual therapy session. McCarten mistakes self-indulgence for self-reflection and hopes poorly placed flakes of exposition will substitute for emotional honesty. The jukebox musical is often compromised before audiences even enter the theatre because producers want a clean, uplifting version of a life that augments rather than complicates an artist's reputation. Most such shows simply give up and pile on the hagiography. A Beautiful Noise tries something more ambitious and considered, but doesn't fully avoid those traps.
Swenson's Heroic Performance
Swenson, who originated the part on Broadway, brings such charm and expansive showmanship that the material's flaws disappear whenever he starts to sing. His voice ranges effortlessly over Diamond's songs, from the easy sensuality of Cherry, Cherry to the lip-curling contempt of Solitary Man. Diamond's timbre and inflection are precisely and confidently realised, but Swenson's own warmth of tone comes through too, making it feel less like mimicry and more like genuine musical collaboration.
There's an undeniable solipsism in the show, so most of the other characters feel superfluous or ornamental. Diamond's first wife Jaye, played by Alana Tranter, is depicted as a dowdy housewife and easily dispatched. Second wife Marcia, played by Ashleigh Rubenach, fares better but is largely left holding a long-distance phone and pleading for her husband's return. Music producer Ellie Greenwich, played by Hannah Fredericksen, and club owner Fred Weintraub, played by Tim Wright, are there to throw out affirmations and encouragement.
The Songs Work
Many of Diamond's songs are used cleverly, with their inherent drama repurposed as emotional crises or turning points. Play Me becomes a lush, swooning love song for Marcia and Diamond. You Don't Send Me Flowers works as their break-up song. Sweet Caroline and Holly Holy are rousing conclusions to each act. I Am … I Said becomes a moment of catharsis for the contemporary Diamond. Morningside, about loneliness, ageing and the legacy of children and art, would have made more thematic sense.
Director Michael Mayer injects huge amounts of energy and verve into proceedings, though he leans on familiar tropes and frayed dramatic beats, including another recording-studio sequence in which the unknown rookie blows everyone away. David Rockwell's scenic design is unfussy and effective. Kevin Adams' lighting is fleshy and flash. Emilio Sosa's costumes have an ecclesiastic fervour in Diamond's most gospel-inspired songs and neatly evoke the era. Stephen Hoggett's choreography is hammy, though the cast throw themselves into it enthusiastically.
A Beautiful Noise doesn't bring much innovation to the jukebox musical and never avoids the hagiography that haunts these shows. But it has a heroically charismatic and convincing lead performance, an abundance of rich, memorable songs and energy to burn. Audiences will be reaching out to touch it in all its cheesy, maximalist, rhinestone-encrusted glory. The production is on at Melbourne's Princess Theatre until October, then moves to Lyric Theatre Sydney from November.
Why This Matters:
The jukebox musical has become a reliable commercial formula for producers who want to monetise nostalgia without risk. A Beautiful Noise shows both the strengths and limits of that model. When the lead performance is strong enough — and Swenson's is exceptional — audiences will forgive structural indulgence and narrative shortcuts. But the therapy-session framing reveals how risk-averse the genre has become. Instead of interrogating Diamond's life with honesty, McCarten wraps it in a therapeutic bow that flatters the subject and the audience. It's a missed opportunity for a show that had the material and the talent to do something sharper. Still, the songs endure, and that's what audiences are paying for.