The world premiere of Ruth The Musical is an admirable attempt to stage the life story of Ruth Ellis. Passing through the doors of Wilton's Hall you walk into another era - the faded elegance and stripped back wood provide a fitting backdrop for the starkness of Ruth's story.
Visually, the production is at times striking. The vast back wall serves as a canvas for original film footage, while the looming figure of Lady Justice dominates the courtroom scenes in Act 2. There is an effective integration of stage and screen, particularly when the ensemble gathers as a kind of moral chorus at the start, echoing public attitudes as they bear witness to Ruth's fate. The haunting opening number—built simply on the rhyme of “Ruth” and “Truth”—sets an appropriately sombre tone.
From the outset, Bibi Simpson's portrayal of “Cell Ruth” is defiant and compelling. Clad in a pale, dusky pink dressing gown, she stands incongruous against the harsh prison setting. The cell scenes are the most complete and emotionally resonant, due in no small part to Ian Puleston-Davies as Pierrepoint. His performance is layered with emotional complexity and inner conflict, delivered with integrity and conviction, lending these moments a quiet power.
The show, however, never quite realises its full potential. Despite having all the ingredients for a gripping and innovative musical, it ultimately lacks depth especially in the relationship between Ruth and David, the core compulsion of her choices . Hannah Traylen gives a spirited performance as “Past Ruth,” and the device of an ever-present “Cell Ruth” provides a constant reminder of the character's fate. Mei-Li Yap offers a commendable debut as “Young Ruth.” Yet the flashback structure feels redundant; much of what is shown is already conveyed and inferred through dialogue, and these interjections feel unnecessary, sometimes clumsy, and no more than explicit signposting.
As a musical, the production also falls short. There is a noticeable lack of choreography, and at times the cast appear uncomfortable with the physical demands of the form. Given the setting—particularly the nightclub scenes—there is ample opportunity for bold dance numbers that capture the excess and energy of Ruth's world. Instead, these moments feel restrained and underdeveloped.
Musically, while the songs often suit the moment, the score lacks dynamism. Many lyrics feel repetitive, limiting their emotional impact. One standout is “Hypocrite” in Act 2, which energises the audience and sharply underscores the hypocrisy of those wielding justice—a pointed commentary on the misogyny that shaped Ruth's fate and continues to resonate today.
Act 2's courtroom scene is among the production's strongest. Freddy Williams and Paddy Duff deliver commanding performances as the barristers, effectively placing the audience in the position of jury. Here, the stakes feel more immediate and urgent.
This was a sensational case that shook 1950s Britain, and the production goes some way in conveying its enduring significance. It lays bare the controversy of Ruth's final hours and closes with a stark reminder: her story remains unresolved in its quest for justice. There is an overriding vision in Andy Morahan and Denise Silvey's direction to prick our conscience and be haunted by Ruth's case. “I'll be there with you”, the final song and the haunting solo sax at the end all aim towards an emotive and impactful end.
The atmospheric lighting design by David Howe is a strength, particularly the looming cell window suspended high above the stage—a powerful metaphor for the fate hanging over Ruth and the impossible height she would have to climb to escape it.
Ruth: The Musical is a production rich in intention, anchored by strong central performances. Yet despite its promise, it stops short of delivering the emotional and theatrical depth its subject so powerfully demands.
Review: Eliza Jaye Photos: Charlie Flint