Disney can’t get ‘Hercules’ right — musical doesn’t go distance in London

LONDON — Disney has been hammering away at “Hercules” for eons.

And more often than not, the show has toppled over like the Colossus of Rhodes. 

The Public put on a nice enough production of the 1997 Alan Menken and David Zippel cartoon musical back in 2019 in Central Park, but it was a one-off amusement that included hundreds of members of local community groups. Still, I saw promise in it.

Then, two years ago, a more traditional staging at Paper Mill Playhouse left critics and ticket-buyers positively frozen.

And now Herc’s flexing and flailing once more in London at the Theatre Royal Mickey Lane. Well, technically it’s the Theatre Royal Drury Lane, but the House of Mouse has annexed the West End venue of late.

The show, directed by Schtick King Casey Nicholaw, is rougher than ever. Frustratingly so, because the material is just as strong as that of “Newsies,” which turned into a scrappy hit for Disney at the Nederlander. There are better songs here than “Tarzan” and, yes, “Frozen.”  

But as sassy Meg sings in “Hercules,” if there’s a prize for rotten judgment, I guess Diz already won that.  

There are so many built-in virtues from the movie that needed only to be encouraged.

Our hero is a young man with a secret divine past, struggling with identity and purpose. Easily gripping, you’d think. He’s in a will-they-won’t-they love story with Meg, a refreshingly forward double-crossing associate of the villain. That baddie, Hades, is evil incarnate. And it’s all set to a score that blends a “Little Shop of Horrors”-style gospel choir with optimistic ballads.

That’s a should-be winning combo. Plus, there is an obvious theatricality to ancient Greece that makes perfect sense onstage.

Too bad everything good has been shoved aside in favor of pricey spectacle, a dungheap of schlocky humor and — plus ça change! — terribly weak new music and book additions to pad out the runtime.

The biggest offender, though, is the title character.

Hercules doesn’t really come of age in the musical. He pops out, amoeba-like, from Barry’s Bootcamp. The statue is never a “zero.” Luke Brady, the actor playing him, is clearly an adult. He’s muscular, clothed in athleisure and mesh tank tops (every one of the costumes is an eyesore), and the script goes too far in making him a hunky moron. It’s hard to give a fig about his ambivalent quest. Brady’s big number “Go The Distance” has always been the highlight. Here, it barely flickers. 

Herc trains with Phil (Trevor Dion Nicholas), a retired Mr. Miyagi for heroes. Phil’s a loudmouth schlub who wears a tracksuit and would be the comic relief were every character not jockeying for the same position. Their mentor-mentee relationship is an afterthought.

So is the gym rat’s connection to Meg (Rhianne Alleyne on the night I saw it). There is no spark, no flirty giggles, no care. 

Hades (Stephen Carlile), with slick-backed white hair and punchline-packed dialogue, becomes a goofy side act in a kiddie show, much like what Nicholaw did to Jafar in “Aladdin” on Broadway. They go way over the top here. These villains must be fun, but not so full of helium and confetti that they lose all weight and threat. Hercules is batting a comedian’s warm-up act?

And then there are the Muses — the big-voiced women who belt out all the details of the tale. Fantastic tunes, “The Gospel Truth” and “Zero to Hero.” The actresses sound fabulous wailing them, but I couldn’t make out most of the words. 

Their words, of course, being the plot.

The set is humongous, like something out of a David Lean film, though occasionally tacky. A maxi-golf course. Sturdy pillars slide and rotate (what’s with the theater’s obsession with spinning things around and around?), and there is a lot of reliance on somewhat clever mosaic projections to move things along.

It would not be Disney if there weren’t any puppets. Several actors hold the heads of the hydra that Herc does battle with. There is a dinosaur-ish creature that could be shipped off to a theme park tomorrow, and a huge Hades for the climax.

They’re totally artless. Julie Taymor of “The Lion King” would sleep soundly if she saw them.  

The West End, I imagine, is the end of the road for “Hercules” as far as Broadway goes. The quality is much too low for New York, and the required changes are too daunting. The major one being: Make non-existent characters exist.

“Hercules” might go the distance — to cruise ships.