Barbican Centre (studio)
Anthony Van Laast (director)
150 (length)
05 June 2026 (released)
22 h
High Society at the Barbican is the newest summer hit of Cole Porter glam at the Barbican, following Kiss me Kate, and Anything Goes five years prior. It’s an undeniably lighthearted take, but where it lacks depth it makes up with a magnetic cast, timeless score, and charm that bubbles over like a freshly poured glass of champagne.
The story first originated as Philip Barry’s The Philedelphia Story in 1939, written for Katharine Hepburn, later it inspired 1956’s film High Society starring Frank Sinatra, Bin Crosby and Grace Kelly and consequently the broadway version. This adaptation is brought to life by a multi award-winning creative team, including Rachel Kavanaugh and choreographer Anthony Van Laast
We follow Socialite Tracey Lord, played by Helen George as more of a woo girl than an ice queen in this version, and her pompous family as they prepare for her remarriage with a boring accountant (David Seadon-Young). The party on the Newport estate descends into chaos when ex husband Dexter (Julian Ovendone) and undercover reporters Mike and Liz (Freddie Fox and Carly Mercedes Dyer) turn up. It’s a classic farce of betrayal and love triangles.
If there’s one genre that has dominated the cultural landscape over the past few years, it’s the “eat the rich” narrative- a cathartic middle finger to the elite at a time when the gap between billionaires and the rest of us feels wider than ever. In many ways, High Society was an early pioneer of our obsession with poking fun at the wealthy. In the film, Sinatra as Mike provided a grounding voice, ridiculing the ethics of the Lord’s.
In this adaptation, Mike is much quicker to put his disdain for high life to the side. One moment, he and Liz are singing their criticisms in “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?” in Tom Rogers magnificently opulent set; the next, he’s drinking bubbly from the bottle and skinny-dipping with the very gentry he claimed to despise. Liz remains more sceptical, perhaps due to the unwanted advances of Nigel Lindsay's brilliantly repulsive Uncle Willie.
The pull here, though, is not complex characters or commentary. Instead, it’s the setlist full of musical hits and sheer talent of the cast performing them, without a single dud. Take ‘Now You Has Jazz’, performed with a full quartet on stage and accompanied by an irresistibly camp dance routine. It’s a brilliant excuse to like Mike, escape, and feel like a dignitary for the night.
