Golden Boy– Almeida Theatre

4.5/5 stars

Last night we headed to the Almeida Theatre to see the much-anticipated revival of Golden Boy, starring Josh O’Connor, Daniel Mays and Hayley Squires. Written by Clifford Odets in 1937 and directed here by Sam Yates, it is a play about ambition, identity, love and what we are prepared to sacrifice in pursuit of success. 

The production is currently sold out, although the Almeida advises checking for returns and trying the returns queue at the theatre. If you don’t manage to get a ticket, there is some good news: Golden Boy will be screened in cinemas worldwide through National Theatre Live from 5 November. 

And this is absolutely one I would suggest looking out for.

It’s a simple story, exceptionally told.

Set in Depression-era New York, Golden Boy follows Joe Bonaparte (Josh O’Connor), a gifted young violinist who finds himself drawn away from music and towards the far more lucrative world of professional boxing. What begins as an opportunity for money and success gradually becomes a battle over who Joe really is and what he is prepared to lose in order to become the person he thinks he wants to be. 

In its essence, it’s actually a relatively simple story. What makes this production exceptional is how beautifully every element comes together.

Rosanna Vize’s set and costume design transports us straight into 1930s New York without ever feeling unnecessarily elaborate. James Farncombe’s lighting, Dan Balfour’s sound and Isobel Waller-Bridge’s music add enormously to the atmosphere, while a live string quartet provides a constant connection to the musical life Joe is in danger of leaving behind. 

There are some wonderfully clever pieces of staging too. Boxing matches aren’t recreated literally. Instead, a punch bag becomes central to depicting the fights, allowing your imagination to do much of the work. Similarly, the sliding window that alternately reveals and conceals the musicians is used particularly effectively at key moments in the story.

These aren’t theatrical tricks thrown in simply because they look impressive. Everything feels purposeful.

Josh O’Connor is sublime as Joe.

It’s an incredibly thoughtful performance because he never allows Joe to become simply the ambitious young boxer. The moments of anger and rage are interspersed with vulnerability, insecurity and a genuine sense that this is a young man who doesn’t quite know where he belongs.

O’Connor makes those contradictions feel completely natural. You can see Joe changing as the play progresses, but you can also see the person he was underneath the person he is trying to become and it makes his journey all the more powerful.

Daniel Mays plays Joe’s manager, Tom Moody, and gives another terrific performance. 

Initially, there is something almost lovable about him – a fast-talking, slightly roguish womaniser who feels as though he knows exactly how this world works. But Mays gradually strips that confidence away.

The flashes of rage and fear reveal something much more vulnerable underneath. For all his bravado, you begin to see a man who is perhaps far less in control than he wants everyone around him to believe. It’s a transformation Mays handles brilliantly.

As good as O’Connor and Mays are – and they really are excellent – the standout performance for me personally came from Hayley Squires as Lorna Moon. Firstly, her singing voice is quite frankly incredible.

However, what struck me most wasn’t simply how good she was when she had dialogue. It was what she did when she didn’t.

Even when Lorna was standing silently in the background, Squires never seemed to switch off. She was still listening, thinking and reacting. You could watch her while another conversation was taking place elsewhere on stage and Lorna’s story would still be happening.

That sounds like such a small thing, but I think it’s one of the things that separates very good acting from something exceptional.

At its best, Golden Boy stops feeling like you’re watching actors performing a play. It feels as though you’ve somehow been allowed into a room and are simply watching these people’s lives unfold.

And surely that’s one of the great secrets of theatre.

The chemistry between Squires and O’Connor is also electric. There is a rawness to their scenes together – attraction, frustration, anger and vulnerability all sitting incredibly close to the surface – that creates some of the strongest tension of the evening.

It would be unfair, though, to make Golden Boy sound like a three-person production.

The wider cast includes Jason Barnett, Richard Fleeshman, David Ganly, Patrick Martins, Oliver Ryan, Stanley Townsend, Zubin Varla and Nicholas Woodeson, alongside O’Connor, Mays and Squires. 

There genuinely isn’t a weak link.

At times there is so much happening on stage that your attention is being deliberately pulled in one direction while another little piece of life continues somewhere else. Yet it never descends into chaos. Instead, the whole production operates like an incredibly well-oiled machine.

And that’s where Sam Yates’ direction really shines. There is enormous control behind something that frequently feels completely spontaneous.

We’ve seen numerous plays recently featuring some unquestionably incredible actors that just haven’t quite hit the mark so finding one that not only holds your attention but makes you genuinely emotionally invested in its characters is surprisingly rare.

Golden Boy did exactly that. Diarmuid even shed a tear or two!

Odets’ script gives the actors plenty to work with, but for me it is the performances that ultimately elevate this production. O’Connor is superb, Mays is terrific and Squires is quite extraordinary. Around them is an ensemble where seemingly everyone – actors, musicians and creatives – is at the top of their game.

I left the Almeida thinking that perhaps exceptional theatre doesn’t need to be complicated.

Give me a beautifully constructed set, intelligent direction, a great script , a phenomenal cast and sometimes that’s all you need.

Golden Boy has all four.

In boxing terms, the obvious conclusion is almost impossible to resist.

It delivers one hell of a knockout.

♿  Accessibility at the Almeida

Before visiting any theatre, I always check its website to find out what accessibility information is available. And I have to say, hands down, the Almeida has one of the best accessibility sections I have come across at any London theatre.

It is so comprehensive that, if every theatre did this, Wheelie Good Show might find itself out of a job!

The information covers pretty much everything you could want to know before your visit, including a video walkthrough showing you how to enter the theatre, what the auditorium and seating are like, and where to find the accessible toilet. For someone with access requirements, being able to see all of this in advance removes so much of the uncertainty that can come with visiting somewhere new.

I arrived feeling completely prepared. I knew what the theatre looked like, where I needed to go and what to expect when I got inside. That is exactly what good accessibility information should achieve.

There was, however, one issue that I hadn’t anticipated.

I’d contacted the theatre beforehand and explained that I use a relatively high power wheelchair. My wheelchair position was in the front row which, on the surface, sounds fantastic. However, almost immediately I became concerned that my chair and I might obstruct the view of the people sitting directly behind me.

Knowing how sought-after Golden Boy is and how difficult these tickets have been to get, I really didn’t want somebody else’s experience of the production to be negatively affected because they couldn’t see over me.

I raised my concerns with the Almeida staff and they were brilliant. They were reassuring, helpful and did everything they could to put me at ease. I even offered to transfer into a theatre seat, but they assured me that this wasn’t necessary. I also spoke to the gentleman sitting behind me, whose view I was most concerned about, and thankfully he was equally kind and reassuring.

Despite that, I remained quite self-conscious. During the first half I found myself trying to make my body smaller and sit lower in my wheelchair so I wouldn’t obstruct anyone’s sightline. Unfortunately, that quickly became physically painful and wasn’t something I could sustain, so during the second half I simply had to sit normally.

I think this raises an interesting point about accessible seating that isn’t always considered. As a wheelchair user, I absolutely believe that my experience of a production should be equitable to that of every other audience member but equally, I don’t want my access provision to compromise somebody else’s experience. Ideally, good auditorium design should mean that neither person has to make that compromise.

In hindsight, I think a different wheelchair position might have made me feel more comfortable. Even being at the end of the row or further back could potentially have reduced my concern about blocking someone’s view.

If I returned to the Almeida, I would personally consider a transfer seat, although that obviously isn’t an option for every wheelchair user and shouldn’t have to be the solution to a sightline issue.

Most importantly, none of this detracts from how impressed I was with the Almeida’s overall approach to accessibility. The information available before my visit was exceptional, the staff couldn’t have been more helpful when I raised my concerns, and I had a fantastic evening.

A small consideration around wheelchair positioning aside, this was a really positive access experience — and I would absolutely return.