Singin’ in the Rain was one of the first movie musicals I ever watched and is one of the movies that sparked a love of musicals for me. The talent, the athleticism, and the comedy: the original trio of Gene Kelly, Debbie Reynolds, and Donald O’Connor singing and tapping along to songs from the Great American Songbook is a true classic for the ages that we see referenced throughout different media, from a Glee mashup to Tom Holland lip-syncing to cosmetics in video games. The stage adaptation is an honest and faithful adaptation of the movie, which is a feat in itself. Orpheus

So I want to say right away, this has been one of the most beautifully designed productions from Orpheus I’ve ever seen. The vision being that we were watching them record the movie version of Singin’ in the Rain, so it became a meta viewing of a show within a show within a show, absolutely delightful and subtle enough that it didn’t break our immersion. This was aided by the wholly astounding set pieces by designer Alain Richer and scenic artist Kendra Thompson. The stage was set so well; it really did feel like we were watching a movie being made on Stage 52. And to add to the beauty of the set, the costumes were just out of this world. Hannah Gorham-Smith and Ana Lorena Fuentes Roman tied the sets together with some gorgeous costumes for the cast AND the crew, as the stagehands played a vital role of, well, stage crew moving sets and pieces on the set. Both departments here made such an aesthetically pleasing and cohesively designed show. I also want to put a shoutout here to the lighting designer, Rob Puchyr, because even though it was subtle, the lighting design made the show feel timeless as it shifted seamlessly from feeling like the 50s to feeling like a movie set. That being said, what missed the mark for me was the choreography. The levels of performance in the choreography were varied, and at times it felt a little too mechanical at points, with sections of tap numbers being quite muddled.

The titular number “Singin’ in the Rain” was by far the biggest highlight of the show as we saw how they did the rain, and it was such a showstopper. Brendan Finnerty (Don Lockwood) did a great job in the scene and made it his own. His opposite, Mercedes Rivoire (Cosmo Brown) is an unconventional choice for a razor-sharp-tongued but smooth and suave man. I do feel that Rivoire struggled with the quick-witted humour of the character; this led to the number “Make ‘Em Laugh” missing the mark on the slapstick situational humor. However, I found Rivoire stunning during dance numbers, especially in “Good Morning.” Rivoire, Finnerty, and Rachel G. MacPhee (Kathy Selden) had me smiling throughout that number. The sheer chemistry between the three is palpable and you can’t help but enjoy that late-night/early-morning delirium.

What stole the show for me was Sarah Cousineau (Lina Lamont): the voice, the comedy, and everything about her were absolutely perfect for the role. Every time she took the stage, Cousineau absolutely dominated the stage. I do wish there was a little more variation in the levels of the energy she exhibited, as it did become a little overplayed at bits; however, she nailed and ate up every scene she was in. Another shoutout goes to an unexpected shining moment: Sam Prowse (Tenor/Movie Villain/Ensemble), who sang “Beautiful Girl.” Musicals of this time had these weird one-off songs/scenes that felt like they were to give the principal cast some downtime and would be the part I would fast-forward if I could; however, Prowse was captivating with their vocals and performance, with the aid of the ensemble in some of the most beautiful dresses and headpieces that looked like they walked straight out of a beauty pageant.
Overall, I absolutely loved this show and was in awe at how cohesive and beautifully designed the whole show was. This feels like a turning point for Orpheus, who has been previously struggling with getting all of their departments to perform at the same level. I cannot wait to see what they have in store for their 2026-27 season.