Tucked away, further along London’s Tottenham Court Road than traditional theatregoers would usually venture, and beneath the shimmer of disco balls and neon lights, Oscar at the Crown explodes onto the scene with a riot of colour, queerness, and unapologetic theatricality. This dystopian dance party musical, already a cult sensation in New York and Edinburgh, now finds a custom-built home in the capital.
Set in a post-apocalyptic bunker where the only cultural artefacts to survive are reality TV and the works of Oscar Wilde, the show is a fever dream of high camp and high concept. It’s part disco, part rebellion, and entirely unlike anything else on the London stage.
In a similar format to Priscilla the Party, which played just down the road at HERE at Outernet, the action unfolds on the dancefloor while the audience is encouraged to move around the action, carry on drinking and partying, and take as many photos as possible.
Writers Andrew Barret Cox and Mark Mauriello have conceived a narrative of sorts to work around this dance marathon. Actually, there are two: the life of Oscar Wilde, his spouse, and his most famous lover, Lord Alfred ‘Bosie’ Douglas; and that of the troupe of outcasts who tell this story from the bunker to which they have retreated following the collapse of society due to fascism (and reality TV).
These stories can get a little lost as we move around the space, never knowing where the action will be next. Towards the end, the narrative takes a more serious tone, and the audience—who have been enjoying dancing along and drinking alcohol—aren’t all ready for this change of pace.
The strength of Oscar at the Crown, though, is the music: high-energy dance tracks that sound like they could be played in any club in the country this weekend, and no one would notice they had come from a musical. The songs (a sort of synth-pop/Broadway hybrid) are all utterly brilliant and make for an enjoyable and euphoric listen.
Mark Mauriello reprises the role of Wilde with a magnetic performance that is both haunting and hilarious. This Wilde is a prophet, a pop icon, and a party host rolled into one—a dazzling centrepiece around which the chaos swirls. Mauriello’s command of the space is electric, and the performance pulses with both intellect and irreverence.
Elizabeth Chalmers returns as Constance Wilde, offering a poignant counterpoint to the show’s frenetic energy. Her monologue is a standout moment—raw, lyrical, and long overdue in giving voice to a woman so often sidelined in Wilde’s story. Her vocals soar, anchoring the show’s emotional core.
Zak Marx brings a brooding sensuality to Bosie, while Zofia Weretka’s Vicki—a Real Housewives-inspired creation—is a deliciously campy delight. The ensemble moves with precision and abandon, embodying the show’s ethos of radical self-expression.
Director Shira Milikowsky and choreographer/composer Andrew Barret Cox have crafted a world that is both immersive and anarchic. The staging is a sensory overload: TV screens and pulsating lights create a space that feels both post-civilisation and pre-revolution.
Oscar at the Crown probably defies categorisation. It’s a musical, yes, but also a manifesto, a nightclub, a history lesson, and a celebration of queer resilience. For those willing to surrender to its wild, Wildean world, Oscar at the Crown offers a night of unforgettable theatre… or should that be clubbing?
Listings and ticket information can be found here.
