Pride at National Theatre in London review: A rallying call remembering then and relevant now

As you enter the sepia flooded Dorfman Theatre at the National Theatre, you are transported to the ’80s. As the audience enters to a soundtrack of Wham!, Pet Shop Boys and Madonna, a slideshow projects imagery from what feels like a time long ago: right wing politicians; anti-LGBT headlines; threats of nuclear war. And then it dawns: in 2026, these sentiments feel worryingly familiar.

But then, more images: of transgressive punks, striking miners and Pride marches fighting back. There is always hope as communities rally to fight for their rights. Apt too is that this reimagining of iconic queer film Pride’s translation to stage is running during Pride month at a time where protest feels necessary.

It feels natural for this production to be a musical – after all, perhaps the most memorable scene from the film is Dominic West dancing on a table at a Miner’s Gala, unafraid to bear his sexuality proudly after an initially frosty reception. Music was key to the film, but here it isn’t just used to create moments that move, but for comedy. Somehow, a show remembering the AIDS era, miners’ strikes and the early days of Pride magically balances poignancy with irreverent humour. 

Take the opening number which sees a conservative mob politely reassuring the audience “There’s absolutely nothing wrong at all with homosexuals!” before listing every stereotype and lie that has ever been told about LGBTQ+ people. It’s both funny, shocking, and feels like something that you might hear on GB News. 

However, for every moment of hatred are many more of joy: Marc Ashton, founder of activism group Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners soon urges his friends to come together to support the miners’ strikes under Thatcherism, believing if the oppressed come together. “We can make a difference for people who really need it.” Jhon Lumsden brings energy and charisma to the role of Marc, bursting into a powerful rendition of ‘Solidarity’ that captures the essence of the show. 

But alongside the core narrative – the uneasy relationship turn beautiful coming together of two very different groups in support of one another – this production tells many complex stories: of the coming out and coming of age of Bromley; the coming home of Gay’s the Word owner Gethin; and the anxieties of the brilliant Jonathan – the second man to be diagnosed with HIV. Equally successful is the storytelling of those living in the South Wales Valleys, where “a man’s resolve is harder than a stone.” It’s a reminder of all those who faced the harsh realities of life under the much-hated conservative government of the time. 

This is a production that avoids musical theatre cliches for imaginative storytelling that honours all involved in the movement. It’s a small but mighty cast. The set is simple yet transforms from Soho clubs to Welsh rurality at a rate of knots. But despite its simplicity, the show never fails to have a big sound and big heart, intimately involving the viewer in every moment: theatre in the vein of Come From Away and High Fidelity. Watching Pride, you feel like you are a part of something bigger: both the history and today’s urgency to act.

Of course, a queer musical must have moments that ooze camp. A highlight is Samuel Barnett’s performance as Jonathan, who performs that iconic scene to track ‘Disco’ entering in a fierce red jumpsuit and leads the joyous dance that unites the mass. However, the show-stopping moment, perhaps, is a brilliant fourth-wall-breaking monologue after the interval that sees him reflect on queer life before bursting into an unforgettable Cabaret-esque moment. 

This retelling of the beloved film will, no doubt, become a beloved musical. If the movie felt like a reminder of our past, this staging is a call to arms to come together and fight for what you believe in. The audience laughed together, they cried together, and there was a sense of momentum as they stepped out of the theatre back into the real world. Amidst all of the queer tragedy in the world, Pride teaches us that there is always queer joy to be found.