Stop the Train (The Musical)

Among the slew of American college circuit and chamber musicals at the Fringe, Stop the Train by Rick Guard and Phil Rice stands apart for looking nearly London-ready. Its score, orchestrations, big cast and production values are all first-class so it's beyond unfortunate that some of the lyrics are away-day, super-saver, railcard-discounted tosh that sound like they came from one of those we-make-it-up-on-the-night improv shows.

Self-absorbed commuters on their phones and tablets are interrupted by a man with an axe to grind. It must be zeitgeist-tempting to give him an actual axe and a more politicised motive, but he's a shabby everyman with a homily about seizing the day. Isn't that from Newsies? The somewhat stereotypical passengers each sing their inner dreams, and it's no surprise that the pinstripe lawyer is a tassel-twirler. Production numbers are very well-staged, especially nail technician Amy's ambition to become a full-time WAG in a Donna Summer-y disco routine. Everyone sings stongly, neatly embracing both musical theatre and pop, and the versatile chorus dancers really add to the impact.

Some of the arrangements are too Alan Menken-grandiose for the songs' contents – when the unlikeable yuppie couple finally sing a ballad, you'd really rather it was more simply underscored, although that would expose the dreadful "you went and left me on my own / and now I stand here all alone" lyrics. 

The show admits it's still in development. You have a great concept: fix the words, and you may also have a hit.