13 Going On 30: The Musical - Review

★★☆☆☆

Is this show all buzz and no substance?

On paper, 13 Going on 30: The Musical has everything to be irresistible: a beloved rom-com cult film, a spirited cast, colourful design, a message of identity and authenticity, and the nostalgia of the early 2000s. However, this Manchester premiere feels a bit like the Tin Man in Oz; all the mechanics seem impressive, but much of the heart is missing.

The musical follows awkward 13-year-old Jenna Rink, who is humiliated at her birthday party and wishes she could skip ahead to adulthood. Miraculously, she wakes up 17 years later as a successful magazine editor living the “thirty, flirty and thriving” life she always thought she wanted. But Jenna soon realises that her glamorous adult world isn’t all she dreamt of. Reconnecting with her childhood best friend, Matt, Jenna confronts the choices she’s made and realises how far she’s drifted from the girl she once was. In the end, she learns that growing up isn’t about stepping over growing pains, but about embracing who she was, who she is, and who truly matters.

This production does earn its moments. Lucie Jones, as the grown Jenna, has an incredible stage presence, performing with polish and charm. Her vocals are particularly powerful in emotional numbers, such as "That Moment in Time." Jones is indisputably the anchor of the show: her Jenna combines vulnerability and ambition, and her ability to “be” the teenager-trapped-in-30s-body is credible more often than not. The awkward physicality and child-like voice are very apt for the character; however, sometimes they slip into absurdity, and the repeated joke about her finally having ‘boobs’ is overplayed. 

The young cast, especially Young Jenna (Fearne Lily King L’anson) and Young Matt (George Hamblin), bring energy and innocence to the stage. The young cast introduce a lot of spirit to the production, and whilst their moments are not polished or always verbally intelligible, they do bring a bit of fun.

Visually, the set design utilises clever video screens and photo/visual motifs to suggest the passage of time and memories of the past. Gabriela Tylesova’s costumes are vibrant, especially for Jenna’s transformation, although the constant costume changes do feel a little dizzying and unnecessary. Choreography is also a strength; it is energetic, where it allows itself to be. It was a lot of fun during “Peaked in High School”, and the company is packed with talented individuals who clearly throw themselves into their work, and were having the time of their lives on that stage.

Yet for all its gloss, the show struggles to find its emotional depth. The first act is flat in so many places, with exposition often feeling clumsy and shoe-horned. One moment in particular stands out as sigh-worthy, when the character Darius Mark says, “We’re having an affair”, to Jenna, telling the audience the backstory in a frightfully uninspiring way. Some moments that worked in the film (or were memorable there) don’t translate well to the stage. These moments are either left underdeveloped or exist merely as nods to the source rather than being fully integrated into the stage narrative. 

At times, the comedy feels forced: moments intended to be laughable land awkwardly. This is perfectly evidenced by a moment when 30-year-old Jenna approaches a 13-year-old boy in a bar for a date; this is crushingly uncomfortable for the audience, and should probably have been cut. There is a sense that the production often goes through the motions, trying to retain as many elements from the film as possible, rather than pushing the material forward in bold or surprising ways.

David Hunter, as Matt, conveys normality, longing, and a kind of defeated affection. The character is well-presented on stage and easily identifiable as an archetype; Hunter does a great job of showing the audience how they should feel about Matt's life and the rut he is stuck in. In Act Two, we see Matt opening up to Jenna and revealing a deep connection and reinvigorated wonder, which makes this character shine.

Grace Mouat’s Lucy is deliciously biting, and at moments her frenemy presence adds sharpness to the otherwise polished sweetness, yet her arc remains thin. She never quite moves beyond “villainous foil”, rather than someone we understand or empathise with, which is no fault of Mouat, who works with the material brilliantly. Many supporting characters feel underutilised: Jenna’s parents (Suzie McAdam and Ross Dawes), her boyfriend Alex (Dominic Andersen), and even Kyle (Andrew Berlin) all show flashes of potential, but the script gives them little room to develop or leave a lasting impression beyond a few key moments or scenes.

That’s not to say the show is bad — far from it. The cast are working overtime to lift material that simply isn’t giving them enough to play with. “Peaked in High School” is a terrific Act Two opener, thanks to Andre Berlin, who turns Kyle, the once-golden Prom King turned McDonald’s employee, into the show’s most endearing punchline. Likewise, Dominic Andersen leans all the way into the role of the dim but dazzling boyfriend, delivering exactly the brand of charm and swagger you’d expect. Unfortunately, the script gives him little more to do than flex his muscles. The number “Hot” is essentially an extended strip-and-grind sequence that tells us nothing about the character that Andersen’s performance hasn’t already. These actors deserve sharper material; their charisma consistently outshines the script.

The score for 13 Going on 30: The Musical is pleasant, but it rarely feels distinctive enough to belong to this story. Songs like “Here and Now,” “Everything,” and “Why Can’t We Fly” carry genuine emotional weight, shaping the relationships and grounding the more sentimental moments. “You Gotta Have Fireworks” comes close to being a true showstopper; it’s catchy, spirited, and full of heart, but it never quite ignites into the spectacle it promises. Much of the music and lyric writing feels interchangeable with other modern pop-influenced musicals; the melodies are easy to enjoy but hard to remember. For a show whose biggest selling point is that it's a MUSICAL adaptation, the score doesn’t feel like it belongs to 13 Going on 30. The songs could benefit from a stronger sense of identity, something that captures the film’s sparkle and the bittersweet nostalgia.

Visually, 13 Going on 30: The Musical bursts with playful imagination. The transition from 13-year-old Jenna to her 30-year-old self is nothing short of magical, a swirl of sound, light, projection, and a single bedsheet creating a moment of theatrical transformation that’s pure, simple, and utterly delightful. Yet, after investing the opening twenty minutes establishing the characters as children, the show rushes headlong into adulthood with little time for the audience to adjust. The shift feels more like a hard reset than a seamless evolution. Personally, I’d have preferred a narrative opening number that gives us the 13-year-old exposition, introducing us to adult Jenna almost immediately. 

The core storyline mirrors the film, and fans will relish the familiar beats of Jenna and Matt’s love story and her heartfelt reckoning with the woman she’s become. These moments are lovingly rendered and emotionally effective. However, the production narrows its focus so tightly on Jenna that other promising threads are left unexplored. Matt’s engagement, Lucy’s rivalry, and Kyle’s fading glory all hover at the edges, begging for development. While this spotlight on Lucy Jones’s stellar performance showcases her undeniable talent, it also leaves a sense of imbalance. With such a strong ensemble on stage, the musical feels poised for a richer tapestry of intersecting lives, one that could truly elevate the heart of this coming-of-age story.

13 Going on 30: The Musical has many of the ingredients needed for something great: the nostalgia, the charm, the capable leads, and visual appeal, but it often doesn’t dig deep enough. For fans of the film and those who enjoy early-2000s nostalgia, it’s likely you’ll leave smiling at some moments and enjoying the spectacle. But for theatre-lovers hoping for innovation, emotional risk, or a theatrical modernisation of Jenna’s journey, this feels a revisit rather than a re-invention. Some lovely pieces, but the machine hasn’t fully engaged its heart.