Kevin is on the wrong side of 40 when he finds himself living back with his parents over the Covid pandemic, in an attic bedroom with images of Dolly Parton emblazoned across it. Crashing to a low after breaking up with his boyfriend, Kevin asks himself: “What would Dolly do?”
That question sets off this bizarre musical comedy as Dolly bursts out of a poster and into Kevin’s bedroom to sing her way through her greatest hits while advising Kevin on how to get his life back on track, in her sunny Tennessee twang.
Is she a fairy godmother? A ghost of pandemics past? She reassures him she is just a figment of his imagination, and the central point that Parton is a gay icon is underlined.
There is plenty of dazzle here but sadly it all emanates from the rhinestones on Dolly’s dresses. There is little spark to the production itself, which has been authorised by the real-life Dolly. Directed by Gabriel Barre, it might have gathered traction if the script were stronger, but the plot segues into Parton’s best known songs in strained ways. All the oldies but goodies are there, including Jolene, 9 to 5, Islands in the Stream, I Will Always Love You, and on.
But it begins to sound like a tribute act, with little of substance around the numbers. Tricia Paoluccio, as Parton, looks the part in sparkly cowboy-fringed frock and sequins. Her voice has an uncanny likeness too and she perfects Parton’s laugh, but it is not enough to hold up the drama.
Steven Webb plays Kevin as an endearingly nervy figure who, as an aspiring comedian, makes half-baked gags and bursts out of his bathroom in drag at one point to sing a duet with Parton.
Written by Bruce Vilanch, Barre and Paoluccio with additional material by Jonathan Harvey, the story as a whole is undercooked, and the jokes poorly crafted. The plot, beyond Dolly’s magical appearance, involves Kevin’s broken relationship and its turning points are delivered blandly in phone calls and text messages.
Musician-performers emerge to play instruments and sometimes double up as Kevin’s mother or father, but say their lines without acting them out. It feels like a pub gig in spirit. On stage, it looks thin and limp. What the blazes?
• At Riverside Studios until 18 January; then touring
