We know that people like to dress up for the theatre, but some of the crowd at Death Note: The Musical take it to a whole other level. Coiffured and corseted, bedecked in gauze or festooned with diamanté, it is a sight to behold, with an appreciable element going for full cosplay. This, for the uninitiated, is because the source material has emerged from the fan-cultivating world of Japanese manga, originating in 2003, and which has (in a characteristic manner) sold millions of copies in comic book and novel form, jumped to an animated TV series and feature film iterations, and even crossed over to a Hollywood treatment in 2017.
A live musical seems a bit of a sideways step, though; this kind of material doesn’t often find itself in theatres, but perhaps the success of the Barbican’s staging will see more given the go-ahead. (This is actually a second London appearance for Death Note, after a short run at the Palladium and Lyric in 2023.) You can certainly see the appeal. Shorn of the original’s convoluted digressions, and with a dilution of the original manga’s play for the teen-boy readership, this emerges as a smart, metaphysical whodunnit – or perhaps, more accurately, howdunnit – with a nice line in emotional intensity cranked up by its power-ballad musical score.
Despite its elaborate plot superstructure, Death Note (again, for the uninitated) rests on a fairly simple idea, familiar from J-horror of yore. Someone’s name gets written in a spooky notebook and … THEY DIE. All sorts of random, self-imposed rules materialise to make things difficult, as well as a bunch of supernatural presences/deities who face their own set of pulled-from-nowhere consequences for their actions.
The adapters – Frank Wildhorn (music), Jack Murphy (lyrics) and Ivan Menchell (book) – have slimmed things down to focus on three principals: drunk-with-power schoolkid killer Light (Xander Pang), maverick but brilliant detective L (Colin Ryan) and pop princess turned lovelorn slayer Misa (Stephanie Zaharis). Their three-way struggle to alternatively rule like a god and head off the tide of carnage the death note triggers forms the meat of the show, and all three performers attack their roles with grade-A gusto. Telly Leung and Grace Mouat as apple-munching chaos-stirrer Ryuk and goth-bride lookalike Rem, respectively, provide top-notch support as the presiding deities.
Fortunately, the whole thing starts strong, with a floodlit opening scene that combines brilliantly athletic dance moves (by a supporting company that is excellent throughout) and a schoolroom debate about the ethics of justice, and just keeps going from there – with neat forced-perspective sets, flashy back projections and amusing sliding stage elements. Death Note purists might not be completely on board with the alterations, but I would challenge anyone not to have a good time with this.
• At Barbican, London, until 12 September
