Perhaps it’s unfair to compare this new musical with the incomparable Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Both shows have a striking elevator pitch and consider how we make the most of the time available to us. Benjamin finds – and holds on to – love as he ages backwards whereas in 50 First Dates, based on the Drew Barrymore and Adam Sandler romcom, Lucy and Henry endlessly replay their first encounter. She has short-term memory loss from an accident so wakes each morning with no recollection of the previous day; he ventures to sustain their relationship regardless.
But while the Curious Case musical dug deep into the mysteries of time, 50 First Dates is more confined by its concept and never packs enough emotional punch. That’s partly because the book by David Rossmer and Steve Rosen can be bland and their songs breezily enjoyable, without a heart-wrenching number that does justice to the pain at the story’s centre. Nevertheless, there are two genial leads with fine voices: Georgina Castle lights up the stage as always and Josh St Clair convincingly handles Henry’s switch from obnoxious playboy to caring partner.
The story is relocated from Hawaii to Key Largo, Florida. Henry is not a marine veterinarian (so no more vomiting walruses) but a travel blogger, which means he is always on the next flight after a one-night stand whereas in the film it was the tourists he seduced who moved on. His blog is devoted to creating the “perfect day” in different destinations, a rather too on-the-nose parallel to the developing plot. There’s still a homespun diner (“everything has gluten!”), run by Aiesha Naomi Pease and Ricky Rojas, with Chad Saint Louis as their Disney-obsessed waiter and a gang of locals who cheer Henry on.
Fly Davis has designed a flexible beach chic set, under the golden glow of Aideen Malone’s lighting, with restaurant booths making way for the home where Lucy’s salty father (John Marquez) and bellicose brother (Charlie Toland) devotedly conceal her condition. The film’s air of creepiness, and dismal stereotyping, are swept out.
Lucy and Henry’s backstories are also clearer, his parents’ unhappy marriage explaining his fear of commitment and her mother’s death adding clearer fragility to her family. But it’s not just the diner’s waffles that come with syrup as the lyrics can be cloying. Much more effective are the comic songs in Casey Nicholaw’s production, like the ode to Key Largo performed by high-kicking dancers with fishing rods instead of canes. They are a sunny ensemble for a musical that, despite its sandy setting, remains firmly in the middle of the road.