Theatre Review: Buddy - The Buddy Holly Story

It’s difficult to overstate the importance of Buddy Holly to post 1950s popular music. The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, The Byrds, Elvis Costello and countless others were influenced by the bespectacled, glottal-stopping Texan in some way, shape or form.

Going to see Buddy: The Buddy Holly Story I have to confess I was already a smitten admirer of his jangly, taughtly crafted hits. Buddy, Eddie Cochran, The Beach Boys and one or two others provided a looped soundtrack to many a long drive to and from a Kingsbury family holiday. So I love Buddy’s music. But would I love this jukebox musical celebration of it?

I’ll admit, it took me a few minutes to find my bearings. The ‘gee whizz, howdy y’all, gosh darn it’ tweeness of the 50s Texan setting, and the cosy, blanket-on-knee nostalgia-fest initially had me questioning my presence there. But the brilliance of Buddy’s music and the incredible musical talent of the cast soon won me over.

The first half focusses on the early years with The Crickets and Buddy’s attempts (rarely successful) to convince studio and record owners that his rock and roll sound was anything other than a sacrilegious dalliance from the Lord’s own Country and Western. 

I enjoyed finding out about the happy accidents that led to some of his best known hits. ‘Mary Lou’ was only changed in a bid to get the drummer laid with a girl called Peggy Sue, and the distinctive sound of Everyday came together when The Crickets’ drummer was slapping his thighs percussively in an idle moment, while the wife of the recording studio owner revealed a talent for playing the celestsa. I’d always known, instinctively, that there was something special, something trailblazing about his sound and orchestration, but it was nice to ‘see under the hood’ and have the why and how laid bare. In it’s own modest little way, akin to Peter Jackson’s 2022 Beatles doc Get Back.

But it was the second half, opening with the group’s unlikely appearance at The Apollo in Harlem, when the show really took off. Much good humour was made of the creeping terror for this bunch of nerdy honkies from Texas as it dawned on them that they would be stepping onstage at a black venue in downtown New York. But for me, the second half performances really mainlined into the audience the brilliance of Buddy Holly and his late 1950s American popular music compatriots. (No drugs were consumed, nor any pensioners banjaxed on the night).

Miguel Angel’s turn as Tyrone Jones singing Jackie Wilson’s Reet Petite was astonishingly good. As was his portrayal of a peppy Richie Valens who, at a mere 17 years of age, was tragically cut short way before his prime by the plane crash that would also kill Buddy, J. P. Richardson (aka The Big Bopper) and pilot Roger Peterson. The show dealt with the tragedy with due reverence, but we didn’t dwell, and the invitation to us the audience was very much ‘be thankful the music happened, not sad it ended’.

The musicianship and fidelity to the original recordings was superb all evening. It seems unfair to single anyone out but AJ Jenks as Buddy and the double bass acrobatics of Joe Butcher as J. B. Mauldin were especially good. Other stand-out performances came from singers Laura-Dene Perryman as Chantel Williams and Samuelle Durojaiye, as Marlena Madison who really brought the soul.

The show is a thoroughly enjoyable celebration of a great talent, and builds to a wonderfully heart-warming and soul-stirring finale that was met with the standing ovation it deserved. Don’t expect the deep-dive into biography-driven plot and characterisation we’ve come to expect from some of the great music biopics such as Great Balls of Fire!, Walk The Line or Ray, but a more rousing, life-affirming evening of rock and roll genius you couldn’t wish for. A joyous tribute to an exceptional talent.