Ash

Ash by Bric à Brac has the bones of a truly first-rate musical comedy. One or two rehearsal spells with a dramaturg, some fine tuning with the song selection and its secondary characters, and this could be a seriously polished ensemble piece on the destructive consequences of smoking.

A company of six recount the real-life story of Yorkshireman George Crozier—a habitual smoker—from his first puff as a teenager to his last breath over 30 years later. They satirise facetiously ‘friendly’ adverts by tobacco giants Marlboro, Camel, Spud and Lucky, and hop between George’s early and later life, as he falls in love with fellow smoker Jen (Roxanne Brown).

Everything about this production grasps at greatness but slips at crucial moments. The scene changes are quick without being pinpoint; the humour is funny but not hilarious; the music is clever but not innovative; the performances are strong but not stellar (though Hamish Adams-Cairns stands out: a young Mark Heap, for sure).

What’s really missing, though, is a firmer fusion of the way in which tobacco advertising establishes and then assaults fresh generations of smokers, and the tragedy that befalls its customers. Bric à Brac intelligently suggest that, in this Yorkshire town, smoking ain’t nothing but a family thing. But the way that this violent cycle continues unbroken needs to be fixed more stably to the show’s base. This may then allow edifying meditations on our toxic relationship with brands, adverts, and the tragic, needless loss of life.