Latest news with #Cosette
AU Financial Review
2 days ago
- Business
- AU Financial Review
Cosette terminates Mayne Pharma deal as legal challenge looms
US pharmaceutical giant Cosette has terminated its $672 million takeover bid for Adelaide-based drug company Mayne Pharma, but the target company says it will challenge the move in the courts. Mayne Pharma shares fell as much as 7 per cent on Wednesday after it told investors it had received notice from private equity-backed Cosette that it would terminate the $7.40 per share offer, setting the stage for a potential legal battle.
AU Financial Review
21-05-2025
- Business
- AU Financial Review
Mayne Pharma shares crash after suitor Cosette threatens to walk
US pharmaceutical giant Cosette has threatened to abandon its $672 million takeover bid for Adelaide-based drug company Mayne Pharma after the target issued weaker-than-expected earnings guidance and disclosed a possible US regulatory issue with one of its key products. Mayne shares plunged more than 30 per cent on Wednesday after it said private equity-backed Cosette was reviewing the deal because it thought there had been a 'material adverse change' in the company's financial performance since it made its offer in February.
Time Out
05-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Time Out
Les Misérables The Arena Spectacular
Well, you know Les Miserabl é s, of course. The whopping 1862 novel penned by Victor Hugo that became the 1980 French stage musical by Claude-Michel Schönberg, Alain Boublil, and Jean-Marc Natel. That production, of course, was anglicised in 1985 under the auspices of West End theatre impresario Sir Cameron Mackintosh with lyrics by Herbert Kretzmer and, well, it's still playing to sold-out audiences 40 years later – making it the longest-running musical in the entire world. Les Mis is one of the most beloved musicals of all time, a genuine cultural touchstone – that Émile Bayard image of Little Cossette is a totem of the younger theatre kid set, before they decide they're too cool for such a West End dinosaur. (It's okay, they eventually circle back.) There was a 2012 big screen adaptation that many of us have collectively agreed to forget, such is our love of Les Mis. But when we talk Les Mis, it's not the book or any of its less tuneful adaptations, and it's not the French musical – and it's certainly not Russell Crowe growling his way through the role of Javert – it's the Mackintosh production, and that's what Sydney is getting here, more or less. Landing Down Under as part of an epic world tour to celebrate the West End production's 40th anniversary, this is Les Misérables The Arena Spectacular, which is pretty much Les Mis é rables Live in Concert, and why not? As a sung-through musical, Les Mis is a good fit for this treatment. It's almost opera, and excising much of the physical action doesn't muddy the narrative (in fact, it shortens things by about half an hour with no appreciable downside). This is Les Mis as rock concert, and if you love Les Mis, you'll love this – there's no doubt. This is Les Mis as rock concert, and if you love Les Mis, you'll love this – there's no doubt. To quickly dispense with the plot, we're in 19th century France and recently released criminal Jean Valjean (Alfie Boe on opening night, alternating with Killian Donnelly) breaks his parole and heads off to start a virtuous life, along the way adopting orphaned waif Cosette (Alexandra Szewcow, alternating with Samara Coull-Williams, Violet Massingham, and Scarlett Sheludko – who are part of an impressive crop of local child actors brought on for the Australian leg of the world tour). But iron-spined, by-the-book Inspector Javert (Michael Ball, alternating with Bradley Jaden) is on his trail. And 15 years later he catches up with him, by which time the now-grown Cosette (Beatrice Penny-Touré) is in a love triangle with young revolutionary firebrand Marius (Jac Yarrow) and put-upon, too-good-for-this-world Eponine (Shan Ako). As Javert closes in, the 1832 Paris Uprising is brewing (and you'd all be doing me an immense personal favour if you wrote down Les Mis é rables is not set during the French Revolution on a Post-It note and put it somewhere you'll see it every day). Those are the broad strokes, at least. Of course, we also get Matt Lucas (of Little Britain fame) and Australian musical theatre royalty, Marina Prior (who also played Cosette in the original Australian production of Les Mis), as comedy villains the Thénardiers, arguably the big draw for infrequent theatre-goers who get wind of this. Directors James Powell and Jean-Pierre van der Spuy know it, too, punching their appearances whenever they wander into the narrative. Prior was, in fact, off sick on opening night, with Helen Walsh subbing in (and killing it). For his part, Lucas has been returning to this part for 15 years, and he plays it like a music hall virtuoso. Boe and Ball are Les Mis veterans too, of course. Ball played Marius in the original London production and played Javert in 2019, while Boe played Valjean in the London 25th anniversary concert in 2010. That adds to the heavy sense of legacy that pervades this production, all the pomp and circumstance and sheer scale. It's Les Mis! The songs are great, the orchestrations by Mich Potter are rich and uplifting, and also a bit heavier and more forceful to complement the arena rock staging. In a staggeringly impressive ensemble – Rachelle Ann Go 's Fantine does a heartbreaking 'I Dreamed A Dream' – Boe and Ball are standouts, their powerful, dueling voices carrying the main thrust of the drama. But while the sheer strength of the material and the performances well and truly carry the night, the staging is at times a bit of a letdown. Designer Matt Kinley gives us a tiered stage, with the orchestra visible at the back and a small main performance area at the front, flanked by huge screens in Renaissance-style gilded frames and dominated by a giant lighting rig. While visually striking, this set up doesn't give the cast much room to work, and they largely stand and sing, making this more often than not a concert rather than a play. Which is fine if that's what you signed on for. Those screens come in handy too, beaming out live footage that zeros in on the main action, allowing the actors to savour the more intimate moments without feeling the need to overextend to play to the back of the room (which is quite a long way away in the arena-style ICC Sydney Theatre). Although, when the lighting rig descends – as it does frequently – to hover over the actors' heads like the mothership from Close Encounters of the Third Kind, it has a tendency to block the screens. Again, not a dealbreaker, but those screens are being used to communicate story information – a few key narrative elements play out on those screens exactly when the audience can't see them. It was incredibly distracting, and I'm frankly baffled at the choice. In a couple of quiet moments, we could clearly hear the rig grinding and clanking as it maneuvered over the stage. And while Paule Constable 's lighting design is perfectly fine, I can't help but think there must be a less intrusive way to generate the desired effect (unless the desired effect is to wonder if the Independence Day aliens have arrived to blow up Paris). That might be a lot of words for an annoying quibble, but it's about the only quibble to quibble about, so please indulge me. That aside, this is a superb production. It doesn't reinvent the wheel, but it certainly pumps the tires and polishes the hubcaps, delivering all the stirring melodrama and tragedy you could want. Les Mis is an institution now, and the sense of occasion was driven home when Mackintosh himself took to the stage after the finale on Opening Night to wheel out a whole host of Aussie Les Mis veterans for a crack at 'One More Day – including Normie Rowe and Philip Quast, who were Australia's original Valjean and Javert, plus Simon Burke, David Campbell, Scott Irwin, Lara Mulcahy, William Zappa, and Nikki Webster. I doubt that's going to be a nightly occurrence, but this show is absolutely worth getting along to, regardless. It is, after all, Les Mis.
The Age
02-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Age
A stirring Les Miserables serves up a late surprise
The story of redemption and revolution, based on Victor Hugo's epic novel, centres on former convict Jean Valjean and the prison guard Javert who's out to get him. Intertwined is a love story between Cosette, the orphan Valjean has raised, and a young insurgent, Marius. This is a sung-through musical with music by Claude-Michel Schonberg, lyrics by Alain Boublil and Jean-Marc Natel. Alfie Boe was magnificent as the lead Valjean, singing with great depth and range to his rich, operatic voice. His solo Bring Him Home was a showstopper. Michael Ball was a combative Javert, although felt less menacing than the character's vengeful nature suggests. Les Mis is a dark melodramatic tale of injustice, poverty and brutality in which some light relief is much needed. It comes in the form of Matt Lucas, best known for Little Britain, as villainous lowlife Thenardier. Lucas' vaudevillian Master of the House was a masterclass in comic precision. He was aided by a splendidly brassy Helen Walsh as Madame Thenardier, who stood in for an indisposed Marina Prior. Although women's roles feel slight in the piece – veering towards saintly martyrs - Rachelle Ann Go combined tenderness and strength in the prostitute Fantine's I Dreamed a Dream. Shan Ako as Eponine made On My Own the night's saddest song. Beatrice Penny-Toure's Cosette was a gentle counterpoint to fiery lover Marius (a passionate Jac Yarrow). Sebastian Sero won hearts as savvy urchin Gavroche. The ensemble's choral work was exhilarating, especially in the rallying cry, Do You Hear the People Sing? As the night concluded – or we thought it had – producer Cameron Mackintosh took to the stage with an ace up his sleeve. Members of previous Australian Les Mis productions – including Normie Rowe, Philip Quast, William Zappa, Nikki Webster, David Campbell and Simon Burke – joined the current cast for the grandest of finales to a show that still has a vital musical pulse. Who'd have thought laughing at Nazis would suddenly become so pertinent again? Mel Brooks' original film was made in 1967, when you could have fought in World War II, and still be in your 40s. Fifty-eight years later, the same blister still needs pricking, and The Producers still does it best, whether the original movie, the resultant musical, the film of the musical, or ongoing revivals like this dazzling production directed by Julia Robertson. Who'd have thought a huge centrepiece like Springtime for Hitler could be performed by a cast of just 14? Or that this cast of 14 could execute such scintillating choreography on the Hayes Theatre's baby stage (already housing an eight-piece band), without either bumping each other or spilling over into neighbouring countries? This is among the most polished pieces of musical theatre I've seen. The level of detail in each line, voice, gesture, costume, dance move, orchestration and design element is exhilarating. You could simply sit there and admire it all in terms of aesthetics and craft – except you're laughing too hard. 'The urge to merge can rob us of our senses,' sings Leo Bloom, and in humour terms, it's the show that keeps on giving, however often you see it. Brooks wasn't just a funny guy, he wrote roles for actors to relish, and Robertson has cast this so well you'd think she had a limitless budget and millions queuing to audition. Anton Berezin has played in a swag of musicals, all prepping him for being given Max Bialystock, the Broadway producer who, having left his moral compass in a cab, resorts to fleecing little old ladies who are short of sex and long on lolly. Berezin plays Max as though all the world's chutzpah has been confiscated and he alone has the key to where it's stored. For Bialystock's foil, Brooks gleefully borrowed the protagonist's name from James Joyce's Ulysses (plus sly references to that work) to create his male ingenue, Leo Bloom. Des Flanagan plays Bloom with more innocence than a two-year-old pretending he hasn't just wet his pants – until it dawns on him that the delicious Ulla is offering more than a life-long innuendo, and Alexandra Cashmere is a fabulous Ulla. Jordan Shea is consistently hilarious as Franz, the Hitler-loving writer and pigeon-fancier, and Blake Erickson arrives in a blaze of gowned glory as Roger de Bris, the director who's supposed to be so bad that Max's show is guaranteed to fail. Each ensemble member fashions every role into a fully fledged character and they perform Shannon Burns' choreography as if their mothers were being held hostage. Osibi Akerejola has the band similarly honed, and Nick Fry's set, Ryan McDonald's lighting and especially Benedict Janeczko-Taylor's costumes ice a cake so near-perfectly baked that even the neo-Nazis might swallow it. With the Hayes season sold out, they'll need to invade Riverside Theatres, May 15 to May18. THEATRE THE LOTTO LINE Flow Studios 88, April 2 Until April 12 Reviewed by KATE PRENDERGAST ★★★ ½ You find Flow Studios through a narrow slot in a broad high brick wall in Camperdown. Inside is the simulacrum of a creative student rec room: a cosy jumble of lumpy sofas, pillaged books and odd furniture. It feels like you've walked into your undergrad arts uni days, hurtled back into that unhinged familiar. The Lotto Line, an absurdist and surreal fable by John Tsakiris, also emerges from that rare and precious penumbra of young creatives touched in their genius heads. Its theatre space is a repurposed warehouse out back, the audience cackling out of sync on tiered seats. In front of a large roller door on a concrete expanse is the square of a strange town, where The Lotto Master commands with diabolical governance. After collecting their tickets, a gaggle of misfits trap themselves in time by cheating the wait for the next day's draw. They had tried to make time go faster (by counting on their hands), but their plan backfired. Nonsense logic reigns in overwhelming and glittering stupidity, as we tumble through the events including body swaps and rebellion. As the characters fumble towards civil camaraderie and a possible tomorrow, a few messages about hope pop from the chaos like pennies. It's like dorm room Beckett tripping the light bodacious. The five misfits – or 'cuddlesome groundlings', as Tsakiris's exhilarating language offers – are an unforgettable lot. In their physical theatre clowning, their co-ordinated futilities, their clashing costumes and, against the relentless glare of the production's lighting, they appear as a cartoonist's fever dream. Jonathon Nicola is Mr Borvin, who I will ever see frozen as an idiot Icarus. Megan Heferen is Ms Atkins (also co-director, co-producer and co-creator of Studio 5 with Tsakiris), who struggles with leadership. James Thomasson is Mr Horner, a man with a Mormon beard and buccaneer-brimmed stetson, who had to temporarily surrender his words to the Lotto Master. Mr Horner must grunt his lines throughout; Mrs Cotter (Holly Mazzola), a gladsome housewife with a soprano squeak, helps to translate. One must not overlook the Lotto Master (Jess Spies), though her role only bookends the play. From her raised booth, in top hat and plum velvet coat, she is an imposing overseer of an arbitrary game. Perhaps most memorable though is Larissa Turton as Miss Dabbs. A mad woman heaving on a single crutch, two pigtails flying from cut holes in a flat cap, she doesn't so much speak as allow a string of low grunts to fall from wet lips. Cheeks bobbling with a palsy of unknown emotions, Turton shows her acting chops when the 'body swap' occurs. The lighting is a white blare and hanging lightbulb; the sound is just a few well-timed slaps of slapstick. But The Lotto Line is a feast of comic imagination and performance for those with an existential stake in the absurd. The third original production from Studio 5, it is a galvanising rubber-gun shot against the staid and self-serious, both in theatre and in life. THEATRE THE PLAYER KINGS Seymour Centre, March 29 Until April 5 Reviewed by JOHN SHAND ★★★★ The great wonder of history is that we continue to be surprised by it unfolding in our own lifetimes, as if it were something that only happened in the past. The corollary is that all that happened in the past is our tutor if we'll listen – hence part of the longevity of Shakespeare's eight history plays, despite only a couple of them being among his greatest works. Linking the eight – Richard II, the two parts of Henry IV, Henry V, the three parts of Henry VI and Richard III – into a chronological cycle is a fond project of 'bardologists', this being Sydney's third this century. Immediately setting The Player Kings apart from The War of the Roses (2009) and Rose Riot (2018) is its sheer scale. Including the intervals, this was 12 hours long: a monumental demand upon audiences, actors and technicians. Within that frame, the director and adaptor, Sport for Jove's Damien Ryan (who also did Rose Riot), has succeeded in emphasising narrative through-lines, intergenerational parallels, clarity of language and the plays' contrasting worlds. The show is presented in six chapters of towards 90 minutes each, knitted by such devices as having Falstaff, beloved joint protagonist of Henry IV, cheekily appear before the preceding Richard II is done. Ryan cunningly fiddles with the order of events and placement of speeches, without doing any particular disservice to Shakespeare. Yet, despite the care with which the plays have been edited and the general excellence of the performance, it's simply too long, and the problem, as ever, is Henry VI. The young Shakespeare contributed to these three plays rather being their primary creator (who probably was Christopher Marlowe), and consequently much of the verse is inferior, the characterisations are thin and the storylines mere bloody melodramas. Henry VI essentially consumed two Player Kings chapters: a massive edit of three full-length plays, but still a drag upon the whole because it's too burdened with the tiresome bickering of the ruling class – or what we now call politics. We tumble into the concluding Richard III, therefore, with some relief, and it's fully worth the wait because Liam Gamble is as good a Richard as I've seen. Having cerebral palsy, and therefore not fully able-bodied himself, Gamble evades the cartoonish Richards that have predominated. Any good performance of Richard charms us, as he smirkingly confides in us his wicked plans, but Gamble makes our emotional response to Richard more complex; draws us towards him in a way that changes the dynamics of the play. We aren't just charmed by his Richard in a sly, winking sense; we're charmed to the point of being won – until, of course, his outrageous bloodlust snaps our new-found tolerance. Steve Rodgers presents a memorably likable rogue of a Falstaff. The prodigious Sir John has been portrayed as more intelligent or sadder, but seldom as more fun, amid which Rodgers still mines the deep truths of his speech about the speciousness of honour. He later returns as the rabid Jack Cade in Henry VI, and all 17 performers take many roles, other than composer Jack Mitsch primarily realising his own score on drums, guitar or keyboard; a score that makes the most dramatic episodes thunder, delicately shades others, and never tramples on the language. Inevitably, with people playing multiple roles, there's some unevenness, although veterans Peter Carroll and John Gaden are uniformly good, including when playing Silence and Shallow to Rodgers' Falstaff. Gaden is a noble John of Gaunt in Richard II, and Carroll clowns his way through the put-upon waiter Francis in a lively Henry IV scene. A hallmark of Ryan's directing is the never-laboured, yeast-like visual humour he adds to his brew, whether as the merest grace notes or as fizzing embellishments from his arsenal of surprises. His son, Max Ryan, excels as a swaggering, live-wire Harry Hotspur in Henry IV, while Max's brother Oliver plays Harry's counterpoint, Prince Hal, and their fraternal swordfight sees sparks flying from their blades. Ryan's direction crafts countless moments of magic, such as Hal looking in a mirror where the reflection is enacted by Andrew Cutcliffe, who then becomes Hal as he's crowned Henry V, encapsulating the change in personality. Cutcliffe's Henry is defined by a lighter, more intimate and slightly comedic St Crispin's Day speech. Another piece of magic comes when Ryan has a troop of English soldiers undergoing a medical examination become the members of the French court in a sauna via a sudden flourish of towels. That said, there are also moments when the French characters seem inclined to the Monty Python school of accents. A hallmark of Damien Ryan's directing is the never-laboured, yeast-like visual humour he adds to his brew. Katrina Retallick shines as a wildly loyal and impassioned Isabel, wife to Richard II, played by Sean O'Shea, who leads us on that character's agonising journey from royal petulance to confronting his mortality and what would be his ordinariness, were he not a poet whose exquisite lyricism intensifies as his power drains away. Gareth Davies, Emma Palmer (a hilarious Doll Tearsheet), the stentorian-voiced Christopher Stollery, Marty Alix, Lulu Howes, Leilani Loau and Ruby Henaway all have their moments in the sun, with the latter playing Joan of Arc, the most intriguing creation in Henry VI. The crackles of the flames when she burns are created by the actors clapping out of synch. Immeasurably aided by Kate Beere's set (with 20th-century costumes) and Matt Cox's lighting, much of the production is so enthralling that at one point in I was momentarily stunned to see other audience members in the light. We all stood and cheered at the end, knowing the actors, guided by Ryan's vision, had just pulled off a triumph of endurance as well as of their art, and we, the audience had been just been part of a tiny slice of history. Nonetheless, see it over two days rather than one. During his extraordinarily busy life as Cantor in Leipzig, Bach still found time to be Director of the Collegium Musicum in that city, which held weekly concerts in the Café Zimmermann. The concerts took place outside in the summer and inside in the winter and were free except for the price of a cup of coffee and Bach scholar Christoph Wolf suggests this as a likely context for performances of Bach's Orchestral Suites. In playing all four of Bach's Orchestral Suites on a modern concert platform and in a single sitting, the Australian Brandenburg Orchestra shone light on this group of instrumental works, and also on the very different challenges of instrumental balance the works pose. At one end of the spectrum are the Suites Nos 3 (which was played first) and 4 (which concluded the concert), both in D. In these works, probably written for outdoor performance, trumpets, oboes, bassoons and timpani join the string ensemble. Under the theatrical gestures of leader Paul Dyer, who encouraged them leaping to his feet with outstretched arms, the trumpets dominated while playing, sometimes thrillingly and sometimes at the expense of the details of the violin line. The first section of the Overture has elaborate arabesques of notes that lead into the next downbeat like courtly hand gestures preceding a bow. In the Suite No. 3, the slow tempo prevented these from falling with complete naturalness, but in the Suite No. 4 at the close, the ABO achieved a stately and majestic effect. Dyer took the well-known second movement, Air, of Suite No. 3 at a restrained pace, although the tradition of playing this work at a slow tempo arises from a nineteenth century transcription to be played entirely on the G string of the violin (hence its nickname) rather than any indication by Bach. At the other end of the balance spectrum is the Orchestral Suite No. 2 in B minor for strings and flauto traverso, played by Melissa Farrow. This was likely a work for indoor performance and Farrow's delicate tone blended discreetly in the Overture. The passage work flowed mellifluously, and cutting the strings back to single instruments during solos allowed the flute to be heard. Farrow flitted lightly in the virtuosic final movement, Badinerie. The happiest medium, in terms of balance came in the Orchestral Suite No. 1 in C blending strings with oboes and bassoon, especially in moments like the Gavotte, where Dyer quietened the sound on return for contrast. MUSIC Daniil Trifonov performs Rachmaninov Sydney Symphony Orchestra, March 28 Reviewed by PETER MCCALLUM ★★★★★ Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto No 4 has never enjoyed among audiences the celebrity of his second and third concertos but has found champions among some notable pianists. Daniil Trifonov inhabited the piece with demonic brilliance, exploring its emotional range with Dostoyevskian darkness and tempestuous intensity.' After the exultant opening theme, Trifonov created a texture of wiry expressiveness in the quieter second theme, while elsewhere energising the finger work as though brewing a spell. After starting the slow movement with insouciant disregard, he sat motionless while the main theme shaped itself with ominous simplicity under his fingers. In the last movement, his playing flashed fiercely against the orchestra like lightning cracks, in a virtuosic display of tensile strength. Trifonov's last appearance in Sydney in 2017 (playing, among other things, Rachmaninov's equally neglected First Piano Concerto) showed him as a pianist of precocious technical mastery. He returns as an artist of distinctive stature, fiery depth and complexity. The other welcome returning guest was Asher Fisch, who conducted a beautifully hushed reading of Liadov's short gem The Enchanted Lake, Op. 62 to start, and whose astute leadership drew out the Sydney Symphony at its very best – and that is very good indeed – in Berlioz's Symphonie fantastique, Op. 14. The latter is a work of huge imagination, orchestral refinement and innovative structural organisation. Yet it can become sprawling, Romantically overblown and inchoate without careful guidance. The first movement, Daydreams – Passions was discreetly balanced, with each floating idea given space and light around it to flow freely with the strange logic of a vivid dream. For the second movement, A Ball, the whirring energy of the strings, with trumpet moved to a position just behind them in front of the horns, created the sense that all this glitter was happening elsewhere while the protagonist's obsession, represented in the recurring idea or idée fixe that nags in each movement, forced its way to the forefront of consciousness. In the fields, with haunting cor anglais from Alexandre Oguey and a welcome guest return of oboist Diana Doherty in response, was a succession of delicately shaded colours right up to the ominous timpani chords like distant thunder at the close. Both the fourth and fifth movement were notable for tightly disciplined energy and rhythmic incisiveness. Olli Leppäniemi's clarinet playing introduced a tone of parody and the use of ophicleides (Nick Byrne and Bradley Lucas) as Berlioz specified (rather than modern tubas) gave the dies irae theme in the finale an aptly morose, sardonic bitterness. The concert was also a warm and heartfelt tribute by the orchestra to longtime SSO concertmaster Donald Hazelwood who led the orchestra with distinction from 1965 to 1998 and who sadly died earlier this month, aged 95.
Khaleej Times
10-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Khaleej Times
Les Misérables in Abu Dhabi: Key cast members on what makes the show timeless
For the first time in its storied four-decade history, Les Misérables —one of the world's most beloved musical—is coming to Abu Dhabi. From April 10 to 20, 2025, audiences at Etihad Arena, Yas Island, can experience the grandest version of the musical yet: Les Misérables: The Arena Spectacular. With a staggering cast and orchestra of over 65, this is more than just a musical—it's a full-scale theatrical event reimagined for massive stages and modern audiences. Ahead of the premiere, City Times caught up with several key cast members: Killian Donnelly (Jean Valjean), Beatrice Penny-Touré (Cosette), Jac Yarrow (Marius), Luke Kempner (Thénardier), and Linzi Hateley (Madame Thénardier), who gave a powerful glimpse into why this version of Les Mis is unlike anything we've seen before. 'An intimate performance on a grand scale' Irish actor Killian Donnelly, a Les Mis veteran now taking on the lead role of Jean Valjean, describes this arena adaptation as a beautiful contradiction: 'It's something that's never been done before—an intimate performance on a grand scale.' While the orchestra has tripled in size from the West End production and the stage is designed to tower over thousands, Donnelly reveals that cameras allow the performers to deliver nuanced, close-up emotion to even the furthest rows. 'You still can have a far more intimate performance,' he says. Now 40 years old—the same age as the show itself—Donnelly reflects on having literally grown up with Les Misérables. 'I started as one of the students on the barricade... now I'm Valjean. So I have aged with Les Mis.' That generational connection extends to the audiences, too. 'Fifteen years ago I saw six-year-olds watching it. Now those kids are in their twenties and still coming back.' For Donnelly, who is now also a father, the emotional resonance of the show has deepened. 'There are definitely bits more of me I put into scenes with Cosette. A little hug, a hand-hold—those fatherly moments. They're not choreographed; they're just me.' 'A dream come true' For Beatrice Penny-Touré (Cosette) and Jac Yarrow (Marius), this production marks their first time performing Les Misérables —and their first time in Abu Dhabi. 'It's surreal,' Penny-Touré says. 'To not only do the show but on this scale is like... wow. Especially in a place as grand as Abu Dhabi. This version of Les Mis is the grand version—it fits perfectly here.' Yarrow, who previously had a short run with Les Mis in London, says the joy of performing the show globally lies in introducing it to new audiences. 'In the UK, it's so ingrained in the culture. But in places like Luxembourg, Italy, and now the UAE, many people come in not knowing the story—and they leave in love with it.' Both actors agree that the show's longevity is rooted in its universal themes. 'It's about human spirit,' Yarrow explains. 'It's about people from all walks of life coming together. That's always going to be relevant.' Penny-Touré adds, 'And the music. It's perfect. It speaks to your soul. I've loved it since I was a kid, and I love it even more now.' 'These stories grow with you' Comic relief meets grit in the form of the Thénardiers, played by Luke Kempner and Linzi Hateley. Both are no strangers to Les Mis and both bring a unique emotional insight to their roles. Kempner first joined the show in 2009 and is currently playing Thénardier. 'You connect with the story in different ways as you get older,' he reflects. 'Back then, I resonated with the young love—the passion. But now, as a father to a little girl, I connect more with Fantine's story and her relationship with Cosette. And I know, as I continue to age, it'll evolve again. That's what makes it timeless.' Hateley has a unique bond with the show that spans nearly its entire history. 'I first played Eponine 36 or 37 years ago—I was the third Eponine in London,' she says. 'Now I'm playing Eponine's mother. That kind of legacy—it's rare. It's personal.' For her, the show's staying power lies in its relatability. 'They're all human stories, as much as it's a tale from many years ago. Life is hard. There are always challenges, but Les Mis is about solidarity—about people coming together and trying to get the best out of a difficult situation. That's universal.' With the show celebrating its 40th anniversary, does that legacy come with added pressure? 'I think as actors we always bring a certain pressure—we want to do our best,' says Hateley. 'But with this version, there's also a sense of celebration. It's a privilege to be part of something so iconic, and to help carry it into the next chapter.' Kempner adds, 'I still remember my mum explaining the story of Valjean to me as a kid. He steals from the bishop, but instead of being punished, he's given a second chance. That idea of redemption—it's what drives the whole show. And that's a message that never stops being powerful.' Behind the barricades Despite the heavy emotional content of Les Misérables, the cast says the backstage energy is surprisingly light. 'You have to keep it fun behind the scenes,' says Yarrow. 'What happens on stage is so intense, so backstage we balance that out.' And while the cast is large, it's also deeply experienced. 'Everyone has done Les Mis somewhere in the world,' he says. 'So we can relax and trust the show—it's going to hold up.' Penny-Touré's personal journey with Donnelly adds another layer of magic. Years ago, she played Christine Daaé opposite Donnelly's Phantom in The Phantom of the Opera. 'He was so kind to me back then,' she recalls. 'Now to share the stage as father and daughter, as leads in Les Mis, it's honestly a dream.' A legacy renewed Marking its 40th anniversary in 2025, Les Misérables continues to evolve while honouring its legacy. 'There's a responsibility, for sure,' Yarrow admits. 'But producer Cameron Mackintosh encourages us to bring our own essence to the show. I think that's part of why it's lasted so long—it evolves with the people performing it.' For first-timers and lifelong fans alike, Les Misérables: The Arena Spectacular promises to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. From the thundering orchestra to the raw emotion of iconic songs, this show is set to move hearts and stir souls in the UAE like never before. As Donnelly puts it, 'You're a custodian of these songs. You stand there, perform someone else's lyrics and music, and 7,000 people give you a standing ovation. That's the gift of this show. That's Les Mis.'
