Fractured futures: jamieson & lenson’s ‘flyby’ stumbles despite musical promise
A disorienting, emotionally raw musical grapples with a toxic relationship across time and space, yet struggles to fully coalesce on stage.
A tangled web of trauma and deception
Theo Jamieson and Adam Lenson’s ‘Flyby’ at the Southwark Playhouse Borough throws the audience headfirst into a fractured narrative centered around the destructive entanglement of astronaut Daniel (Stuart Thompson, a performance brimming with unsettling vulnerability) and his partner, Emily (Poppy Gilbert, equally compelling). The premise – a vanished shuttle pilot and a cascade of fragmented memories – initially grabs attention, a jagged, almost hallucinatory journey through their shared past.
The drama unfolds in a non-linear fashion, reminiscent of ‘The Last Five Years,’ layering glimpses of formative traumas and a father’s calculated infidelity onto the central relationship. We witness the chilling impact of Emily’s upbringing, shaped by her film-maker father’s manipulative control, and Daniel’s unconscious attraction to those who inflict similar emotional wounds. Lenson’s direction expertly captures the visceral intensity between Thompson and Gilbert, particularly in scenes that burn with a desperate, almost feral energy. Their vocal performances soared, blasting through the audience with unexpected power – the music, at times echoing Sondheim’s grandeur, at others erupting in raw, symphonic intensity.
Where the production falters
Despite the undeniable talent and ambitious scope, ‘Flyby’ ultimately buckles under the weight of its own complexity. The narrative, even within its non-sequential structure, feels disjointed, with significant gaps in the timeline leaving the audience grasping for context. The ‘stranded in space’ motif, particularly the shoehorned reference to Robinson Crusoe – Daniel’s surname, Defoe – feels like a desperate attempt to imbue the piece with a deeper resonance, an element that ultimately distracts more than it contributes.
Adding to the confusion are three narrators – Simbi Akande, Gina Beck, and Rupert Young – who frequently interrupt with digressive cutaway scenes. Small details, like the disconcerting inclusion of Emily’s father filming her at thirteen, remain frustratingly undeveloped, leaving crucial emotional beats unexplored. The production’s visual elements – interstellar projections and a striking, dreamlike atmosphere – should enhance the experience, but they feel somewhat detached from the core emotional struggle.
A spark remains
However, amidst the structural issues, ‘Flyby’ offers moments of genuine brilliance. The music, undeniably the production’s strongest asset, possesses a haunting beauty and a willingness to delve into difficult subject matter – particularly concerning mental health. There’s a palpable promise here, a glimpse of a musical capable of achieving the emotional depth of ‘Next to Normal’ or ‘Dear Evan Hansen’ – a potential to reorder its fragmented elements into a truly artful and impactful whole. But as it stands, ‘Flyby’ feels like a fascinating, flawed experiment, one that needs significant refinement before it truly takes flight.