In its current tour at Nottingham’s Royal Concert Hall, Fiddler on the Roof—the award-winning Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre production—proves itself to be a stirring, emotionally intelligent revival of a musical classic. Fresh from its Olivier Award triumphs for Best Musical Revival, Best Set Design, and Best Sound Design, this iteration of the much-loved story of Tevye and his family brings both the familiar warmth and timeless humour of the original while elevating the material with breathtaking staging, inventive direction, and a cast of extraordinary depth.
The story, rooted in the small Jewish village of Anatevka in 1905, unfolds around Tevye, a poor but proud milkman, who struggles to uphold tradition in a rapidly changing world. With five daughters all coming of age, and each growing more emboldened in their desire to marry for love rather than obey the customs of arranged marriage, Tevye is caught between his love for his children and his devotion to heritage. As political unrest creeps ever closer to home, the community is forced to reckon not only with internal change but with displacement, anti-Semitism, and survival.
What director Jordan Fein achieves with this revival is nothing short of remarkable. The production feels fresh and immediate, managing to balance the big, universal themes of tradition and upheaval with the smaller, intimate moments of family life, love, and loss. The production moves seamlessly, drawing the audience deep into the world of Anatevka. Fein’s vision never feels forced or flashy—there’s a gentle magic in how this musical unfolds, grounded in sincerity and driven by a powerful emotional undercurrent. One particularly unforgettable moment comes during Tevye’s dream sequence, which is staged with a surreal, almost hallucinatory inventiveness. The dead erupt from the bed in a cacophony of sound, movement, and ghostly design, perfectly pitched between horror and hilarity.
The choreography, under the expert hand of Julia Cheng, is another standout element of the production. Every moment of movement feels deeply embedded in the culture and character of the community—it is not choreography for spectacle alone, but for storytelling. From the tightly controlled ritualism of the opening Tradition to the exuberant, high-energy bottle dance at the wedding, the choreography is thrilling, expressive, and emotionally charged. Cheng weaves folk dance, contemporary impulses, and expressive gestures to create a language of movement that amplifies the drama. Even in moments of silence, bodies speak—whether it’s the villagers shifting in formation to signal unease or the joyful chaos of a celebration interrupted, every movement serves a purpose. The ensemble handles the demanding choreography with grace and grit, lending the show a physical vocabulary that is as eloquent as its lyrics.
At the heart of the production is Matthew Woodyatt’s Tevye, a truly commanding performance and arguably one of the finest interpretations of the role in recent memory. Woodyatt is magnetic from his first entrance, holding the audience with wry humour, warm humanity, and a remarkable vocal performance. His comic timing is exceptional—his frequent asides to God are delivered with a knowing wit—but it’s in his quieter, more introspective moments where he truly shines. He finds immense depth in Tevye’s inner conflict: the anguish of rejecting Chava’s interfaith marriage, the heartbreak of watching his daughters drift from the old ways, the flickering hope that somehow love and tradition might coexist. His performance of If I Were A Rich Man is electrifying, but it’s Chavaleh (Little Bird) that haunts—the tenderness in his voice, the stillness in the staging, the quiet devastation all linger long after the scene has ended.
Jodie Jacobs delivers a compelling and vocally powerful Golde. In group numbers, particularly Sabbath Prayer and Sunrise, Sunset, her voice rises above the texture with clarity and emotional resonance. There is real steel in her performance—Golde is no pushover—but Jacobs also allows moments of vulnerability to peek through. Her chemistry with Woodyatt is a delight, and their duet Do You Love Me? is beautifully judged: tender, awkward, funny, and moving, all at once. It’s a small moment in the narrative but becomes a highlight thanks to their nuanced performances.
Beverley Klein, reprising her Olivier-nominated role as the meddling matchmaker Yente, is an audience favourite—and with good reason. Her dry delivery, impeccable timing, and physical presence make every one of her appearances a treat. She’s not merely a source of comic relief; under Klein’s interpretation, Yente is a figure of melancholy, clinging to the old ways with a mix of pride and pathos.
The younger cast members are equally strong. Natasha Jules Bernard brings warmth and strength to Tzeitel, making her romance with Dan Wolff’s sweet and earnest Motel feel genuinely affecting. Ashleigh Schuman as Hodel is particularly striking—her rendition of Far from the Home I Love is delicate and devastating, capturing the pain of separation with piercing honesty. Hannah Bristow’s Chava is a quiet triumph; though her role is more understated, her journey is the most heartbreaking, and Bristow imbues every moment with grace and strength. The trio of sisters are not only vocally outstanding but also convey a palpable sisterly bond that anchors much of the emotional storytelling.
The ensemble as a whole deserves high praise. There is not a single weak link in this cast. Every villager, every dancer, every chorus member contributes to a sense of immersive community. The choreography by Julia Cheng is fluid and characterful—most notably in the joyous wedding scene, which shifts suddenly and terrifyingly with the arrival of Russian soldiers. The juxtaposition of celebration and destruction is heartbreakingly effective.
Tom Scutt’s set design is visually poetic. A golden field of wheat, initially laid flat across the stage, gradually transforms into a literal and symbolic roof, lifted to become the canopy under which life in Anatevka plays out. It’s a simple yet powerful metaphor: tradition sheltering the community, even as it threatens to collapse. The effect is both visually striking and thematically resonant. Lighting by Aideen Malone further elevates the production, with inspired choices throughout—from stark backlighting during moments of internal conflict to gentle candlelight during the wedding ceremony. The end of Act II, bathed in harsh, cold light as the musical’s denouement arrives, is among the most affecting visual images of the evening.
Costume design is equally strong—every garment feels lived-in, rooted in historical authenticity but also carefully curated to highlight character. The wedding costumes, in particular, are beautifully detailed, while the spectral appearance of the ancestors in Tevye’s dream transform characters and the scene perfectly.
If there is any criticism to be made of this otherwise remarkable production, it lies in the structure of the original book. The first act is undeniably lengthy and can occasionally lose momentum. However, the direction works hard to maintain pace, and the emotional payoff of the second act more than justifies the slower build-up.
Ultimately, this touring Fiddler on the Roof is a revelatory experience. It manages to feel both grand and intimate, historical and immediate, universal and deeply personal. Whether you’re returning to Anatevka or experiencing it for the first time, this production captures the enduring power of the musical with striking clarity and vision. With a knockout cast, breathtaking design, astonishing choreography, and direction that tugs at the heart and intellect alike, it is not just a revival—it is a reinvention. Nottingham is lucky to host it, even for a brief spell.
Fiddler on the Roof plays at the Royal Concert Hall until Saturday 23rd August 2025 where it continues its UK tour. Tickets available here.
Photography throughout from Marc Brenner.
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