MUSICAL REVIEW: The Harder They Come ★★★★
Stratford East’s new staging of The Harder They Come, under the direction of Olivier Award‑winner Matthew Xia, is a triumphant return to a storied text. This is not just homage to the 1972 cult classic but a bold, living re‑imagining—one that pulses with the heat, beat, and questions at the heart of Perry Henzell’s original film, brought vibrantly to life via Suzan‑Lori Parks’ newly honed book.
From its opening, the stage is alive. Simon Kenny’s set whisks the audience into 1970s Kingston—not with nostalgia or sentimentality, but a sharp, kinetic sense of place. The lighting (Ciarán Cunningham) scorches daylight scenes and caresses by lamplight; the costumes (Jessica Cabassa) shift from bright dignity to ragged resistance, each stitch speaking of a society in flux.
At centre stage is Natey Jones as Ivan. His trajectory—from countryside dreamer to defiant folk figure—is both heartbreaking and electrifying. Jones embodies that tension: the longing to belong, the struggle for agency, and the moral quivers as hope meets resistance. Madeline Charlemagne as Elsa is his quiet counterpoint: grounded, resilient, faithful yet not blind, adding emotional ballast. Supporting roles are no afterthought: Jason Pennycooke’s Preacher carries both charisma and hypocrisy; Thomas Vernal’s Hilton looms as the gatekeeper of success and corruption; Danny Bailey’s José offers a darker invitation to compromise.
Musically, the production soars. The reggae hits are not mere backdrop—they are character, argument, lament, and release. The familiar: “You Can Get It If You Really Want,” “Many Rivers to Cross,” plus others, are augmented by Parks’ new compositions in ways that feel natural and necessary. A live band, rhythm section deep and honest, ensures every note lands with body. Choreography by Shelley Maxwell brings that music off the soundboard and into bone and sinew: the dancers, the church congregation, the street scenes—they move us, they move with us.
The Harder They Come is electrifying theatre. It gives both music and message full rein, celebrates the sheer joy of reggae even as it reckons with its meaning, and asks of its audience: what is the cost of defying the system? It’s a must‑see—sweet, angry, joyous, and unflinching.

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