IT’s the sound of the prison that gets to you first, and that sound lasts through the interval and to the end, obliterated only by the songs.

This new joint production of Kiss of the Spider Woman by Leicester’s Curve, Bristol Old Vic and Southampton Mayflower arrives on our stages as the world moves further into the turmoil of war, with its prisoners, secret armies and increasingly unstable political movements. The plight of Molina and Valentin and their fellow inmates has never in my lifetime seemed more relevant or more terrifying.

Paul Foster has directed a 12-strong cast in this Kander and Ebb musical version of Manuel Puig’s 1978 experimental novel, set in a South American prison where those about to become “the disappeared” start their journey to oblivion. One prisoner, homosexual window dresser Molina, has found a way to mask the reality of his life by re-living favourite films, starring the entrancing Aurora.

For most of the three years since he was honey-trapped into arrest, Molina has been in solitary confinement, but tonight a new prisoner, Valentin, is brought in to share his cell. Valentin is a member of a Marxist group set on overthrowing the government, and the warden (Jay Rincon) bets on the flighty, garrulous and hysterical Molina being able to wheedle out the names of his contacts. With a regime of brutal torture, poisoning and promises of better times, the warden hopes to break Valentin’s resolve.

David Woodhead’s spectacular set (which should carry a trigger warning for arachnophobes) and the stunningly beautiful costumes designed by Gabriella Slade make this production a visual treat, encapsulating both the terror and tedium of prison life and the glamour and romance of the silver screen images that ooze from Molina’s desperation-fuelled imagination.

The central performances are breathtaking. Anna-Jane Casey’s cinematic turn as the movie star Aurora and her one bad character, the seductive angel of death of the title, is constantly amazing. Dancing, singing, high-kicking an incredible number of times, and always providing hope and reassurance, she really is spellbinding.

Fabian Soto Pacheco inhabits the role of Molina, a man whose endless chatter and effeminate gestures overshadow his wisdom and kindness and attempt to hide his endless craving for love and affection. In a musical that mostly lacks songs with sustained emotional heft, he brings poignant longing and bravery, and a final “happy ending” under the inevitable curse of his Spider Woman.

George Blagden’s Valentin, with his baggage of abject poverty, the passion of revolution and the guile of a hunted criminal, vividly shows the shock of finally understanding the meaning of love.

This is a story of the power of humanity in the face of tyranny, secrecy and oppression. It is perhaps a story that we really need now.

GP-W

Photographs by Marc Brenner