Review: Standing at the Sky's Edge
- The Verdict

- Jun 10, 2024
- 5 min read
Updated: 5 days ago

Described as “a love letter to Sheffield,” Standing at the Sky’s Edge offers an intimate look at three eras of British life through the experiences of three different residents living in the same Park Hill flat across six decades. Set in Sheffield’s now-iconic brutalist housing estate—one of the United Kingdom’s bold 1950s and 1960s experiments in social housing—the musical takes audiences on a sweeping emotional journey through politics, strikes, love, loss, and the ever-changing meaning of home. As a city central to the British steel industry, Sheffield faced a severe postwar housing crisis, and Park Hill was its ambitious attempt to address it. The musical traces not only the lives of its residents but also the shifting fortunes of the estate itself.
The first pair of residents, Rose and Harry, move in during 1960, embodying the optimism that defined Park Hill’s early years. Jack Lynn and Ivor Smith, the architects behind the project, envisioned the estate as a beacon of community and a modern alternative to the city’s slum housing. Nearly thirty years later, in 1989, a family of Liberian refugees fleeing civil war arrives in the very same flat. Then, in 2015, a middle-class Londoner recovering from a breakup seeks a new beginning within Park Hill’s newly renovated walls. At first, these storylines appear unconnected, but the musical gradually intertwines them, revealing a single narrative about resilience and the universal longing for stability and belonging.
After acclaimed runs at the Sheffield Crucible and an Olivier Award–winning season at the National Theatre in 2023, the show—featuring the music of Sheffield native Richard Hawley—opened at the Gillian Lynne Theatre in February 2024. Though Hawley’s songs provide the sonic landscape, it is Chris Bush’s book that forms the emotional backbone of the production. Her dialogue is precise and moving, always rooted in lived experience.

Rachael Wooding delivers a standout performance as Rose, capturing her full emotional evolution with remarkable clarity. She begins as an effervescent young woman full of hope, newly moved into a flat that represents the possibility of a better future. As the story unfolds, Rose faces heartbreak, hardship, and single motherhood, and Wooding navigates each stage with honesty and nuance. Her attention to detail—the shifts in her posture, the tightening or breaking of her voice, the quiet moments where pain becomes palpable—grounds her character in real human experience. Her eleven-o’clock number, “After the Rain,” is a devastating peak: a raw, vulnerable performance that fills the theatre with ache.
Emily Ayodole, joining for the West End run, plays Joy, a young Liberian girl who arrives in 1989 after escaping civil war with her cousins. Much of her early journey centers on acclimating to England, adjusting to a new school and culture while struggling with the emotional weight of leaving her parents behind. Ayodole brings tenderness to Joy’s uncertainty and gradual self-assurance, making her growth believable and affecting.
Rounding out the central trio is Poppy, played by Laura Pitt-Pulford. A former Londoner seeking a fresh start in the 2015 redevelopment of Park Hill, she is emotionally fragile and tentative, carrying heartbreak into her new surroundings. Pitt-Pulford’s performance blends humor, vulnerability, and a gorgeous vocal presence. She crafts a portrait of a woman who desperately wants to rebuild her life but is unsure of what she needs—or deserves.
Supporting these three women is an ensemble of richly drawn secondary characters. Lauryn Redding’s Nikki, Poppy’s ex-girlfriend, is especially magnetic. Her unexpected return in Act Two initially sparks tension, but Redding’s powerhouse vocals and emotional openness quickly reveal Nikki’s depth, longing, and love. Jimmy (Samuel Jordan) and Connie (Mel Lowe) further knit the storylines together. Jimmy, the son of Rose and Harry, grows up in Park Hill and later falls in love with Joy; by Act Three, they are married with their daughter, Connie. Adult Connie becomes both a character and the show’s narrator, delivering lyrical monologues that carry the audience through the estate’s shifting emotional terrain. Lowe’s grounded performance ensures that Connie is both storyteller and participant, and her calm presence becomes the show’s emotional anchor.

Director Robert Hastie’s vision brings coherence to a production that spans time, tone, and theme. His staging balances intimate character work with moments of large-scale intensity. Though the production is not dance-driven, Lynne Page’s choreography adds striking emotional texture. In the title number, movement is minimal yet expressive; in Joy’s “Cole’s Corner,” the ensemble’s choreography creates a tender, seductive atmosphere that becomes one of the show’s most memorable moments. The Act Two riot is a climactic fusion of design elements: Mark Henderson’s lighting, Bobby Aitken’s sound, Tom Deering’s orchestrations, and the ensemble’s collective energy collide to create a thrilling, overwhelming sequence.
Ben Stones’ towering, multilevel set is both architectural and symbolic. Capturing the imposing brutalism of Park Hill, the structure looms over the characters, a constant reminder of the aspirations and failings embedded within its concrete walls. On the stage level, minimalistic partitions mark the shared flat across all three timelines, allowing audiences to see the same walls hold vastly different lives. It’s a design that reinforces the musical’s central message: places change because people do.
As with any jukebox musical, the integration of preexisting songs presents challenges. Not every lyric aligns perfectly with its scene, and at times the music functions more as emotional reflection than narrative propulsion. Yet this reflective quality often enhances the experience, inviting audiences to sit with the characters’ inner worlds rather than racing toward plot developments. “Open Up Your Door” is a flawless marriage of context and music—Nikki’s literal plea to Poppy makes the song feel tailor-made for the moment. “There’s a Storm A-Comin’” and its reprise, positioned at the climaxes before and after the interval, deepen the tension and mirror the characters’ unraveling lives with chilling accuracy.
Bush’s book scenes, however, are what truly give the musical its shape and power. Connie’s opening monologue sets the tone beautifully. Without divulging plot, she paints a picture of hope—the desire for a better life that drove residents to Park Hill. Phrases like “to root themselves” and “become an eighth hill in this man-made monolith” give voice to the longing that defines every story that unfolds. Her references to beginnings, first kisses, and breaths held in anticipation shape the emotional landscape before any characters enter.
Throughout the show, Connie guides the audience with poetry, clarity, and empathy. She becomes a bridge between eras, her monologues suggesting that Park Hill is more than just a building—it’s a witness. A carrier of memory. A vessel for hope, disappointment, and renewal.
By the time she says, “Savor this moment because it won’t come again,” the line resonates beyond the scene. It becomes a message about the show itself. Standing at the Sky’s Edge is rooted deeply in Sheffield—its culture, its grit, its melancholy beauty—but its themes reach far beyond one city. The story could unfold in any apartment block where people seek connection and stability. That universality, combined with its specificity, gives the musical its extraordinary power.
In a theatrical landscape increasingly dominated by adaptations, franchises, and safe commercial bets, Standing at the Sky’s Edge feels rare. It is bold, heartfelt, politically conscious without preaching, and epic in scope without sacrificing intimacy. Its humanity is its strength, and its emotional honesty is its gift.
4.5/5 stars
2 hours and 50 minutes, one interval
Gillian Lynne Theatre
Through August 3, 2024



