Pride musical at the National Theatre review: ★★★★

Could there be a story more ready-made for a musical than the tale of the unlikely partnership between the gays and the Welsh miners? Based on the true, incredible account of the miner strikes of 1984 and 1985, and following the brilliant 2014 film of the same name by writer Stephen Beresford and director Matthew Warchus, who now develop their idea at the National Theatre, bringing a new musical that’s surely got West End transfer written all over its protest placards.

When these two communities – the mining communities of the Welsh valleys and a group of LGBTQ activists from London – come together they pop so brightly you almost need sunglasses. There is charismatic LGBTQ campaigner Mark, brought to effervescent life by Jhon Lumsden, who leads the pack as they form Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners, a protest group who stand arm-in-arm with the Welsh workers on the picket line. Not all the men have Mark’s confidence: who could forget Bromley, whose coming-of-age journey will stir memories for anyone who faced adversity when they came out, and who evokes the sensitivity of the men who felt less natural making a stand but nonetheless showed up on principle.

The Welsh locals are as vividly realised as the LGBTQ cohort. Gillian Elisa’s hilarious, courageous Gwen from the Welsh mining community is the ultimate ally. She is a member of the Women’s Support Group and acts as glue between the two communities in the formative meetings when the two ostracised communities work out how they can help one another.

Pride musical: audience lets out huge, communal sob

The songbook, by composer Christopher Nightingale, Josh Cohen and DJ Walde features plenty of earworms. Gay Induction, Solidarity and You Might As Well Live are conventional and catchy; although the pick is Bloody Good Night Out, illustrating a hilarious scene in which the gays take the Welsh miners to a gay club. “Watersports hasn’t got a thing to do with swimming” one of the oldies blurts. Light Perpetual is one of a couple of tear-jerking homages to those lost during the AIDS crisis.

There are also a handful of roaring comedic skits. One that sticks is Elderly Gwen’s slow march to the telephone to pick up a call from the LGBTQ group: a sensitive, hilarious portrait of old age.

Bunny Christie’s set design featuring barriers at protests, rainbow lighting, disco balls emulates the DIY nature of the protests.

Programme material markets Pride as “a joy-filled new musical based on an incredible story.” While the idea of joyous queer storytelling is a good one (darkness defined the formative ‘80s AIDS-tinged plays Angels in America and The Normal Heart) the tendency to go for laughs and lightness in the first act means the grit and more difficult parts of the story are occasionally glossed over, the script sometimes breezing past parts to do with homophobia and familial relationships, areas where we really should linger.

The second, though, is a different show. While it goes into more detail when exploring the AIDS themes, true to the play’s promise, this is never the source of the drama. Instead, gentle reportage of the miners and the gays standing together, arm in arm on the picket line, provides plenty. The final scene elicits one of the largest communal sobs I’ve ever heard in the theatre. This is Russell T Davies level of finding the joy in the sadness, but live, on stage.

Pride runs at the National Theatre until 12 September; nationaltheatre.org.uk