The Little Big Things review – Utterly beautiful ‘I cheered through my tears’

Review: The Little Big Things musical is beautiful (Image: Pamela Raith Photography) On an empty stage an actor sits in a wheelchair. “I know what you’re thinking,” he tells us with a sly grin, “what a terrible idea for a show.” In fact, this glorious new West End musical with the biggest heart in town had me (and a noisily snuffling audience) cheering through my tears by the sensational end. At 17, rising rugby star Henry Fraser was left paralysed below the shoulders after a holiday swimming accident severely crushed his spinal cord. Today he’s a celebrated artist, author (the show is based on his first memoir of the same name) and inspirational speaker. Giving permission for the show, he simply asked the writers, “Please make it full of colour and please make it full of wonder.” In return, they have delivered a magical, heartfelt, heartwarming and often hilarious triumph. Ed Larkin and Jonny Amies as Henry in The Little Big Things (Image: Pamela Raith Photogragraphy) There have been some comments that the show is too lightweight, that it skims over the darkest depth of Henry’s experience. Frankly, who is anyone to judge or determine how the story should be told except Henry himself? Left with his entire future and all his dreams shattered, his indomitable will and determination to find the best in anything meant that he left hospital an incredible eleven months earlier than expected. The show does not shy away from his elder brothers’ guilt (they took him on that fateful holiday) his younger brother’s struggle to face what has happened, or his parents’ despair and pain. But it always, always focuses on family, love and hope, buoyed by some wonderful lead performances. The Little Big Things review: emotional and inspiring (Image: Pamela Raith Photography) Jonny Amies plays the teenage sporting prodigy with irresistible, wide-eyed charm and clarion vocals, before wheelchair user Ed Larkin takes over with touching, palpable sincerity. The genius is having them constantly interact on stage together. The beating heart of the show is their relationship. As older Henry tries to move on, his younger ‘echo’ refuses to let go of past dreams or face their defining, life-altering truth. Younger Henry fights to avoid remembering the accident, preferring to stay safe in happier, earlier memories. When it finally comes and he is hoisted high above us, he tumbles down, crying, “I’m only 17, I’m only 17.” My tears fell with him.  This central dynamic pierces how we all struggle with inner selves holding us back, binding us with destroyed hopes and frightening futures. We can all relate. When they soared above us, holding hands, together one last time before letting go, the entire audience was in bits. The Little Big Things: Amy Trigg as Agnes (Image: Pamela Raith Photography) But the show’s creators were also very clear they did not want to deliver “inspiration porn” where one tragic central character mawkishly inspires everyone around him and changes their lives. It’s always clear Henry is on his own journey and everyone else must simply keep up and support him.   The entire cast is superb. As Henry’s family struggles to adjust, show-stealing Amy Trigg as physio Agnes punctures any schmaltzy sentimentality with a barrage of killer one-liners. I’m shamelessly nicking, “stop being a bunch of can’ts.” There is constant laughter in the banter between the brothers, and that “colour” Henry so passionately wanted to see underpins beautiful family moments. The stage flares a vivid yellow the first time he leaves the hospital and feels the sun on his face, green when he sees the family garden, orange as his body is washed with warmth when his brother holds his hand and blue when they all are able to finally sit by the shore and face the sea. Joe White’s script is supported by Nick Butcher and Tom Ling’s exuberant pop-rock score. Some of the upbeat numbers tend to blur a little but teh massed harmonies are superb. Quieter moments between the two Henrys or their mother Fran’s (Linzi Hately) wrenching One To Seventeen are deeply moving. Staged in the new Soho Place theatre, which is fully wheelchair accessible for cast and audience, and passionately positively supports performers with all body types and abilities, this show has a clear message.