Christian Aguilera new musical Burlesque is a great big glittering bomb

First, let me be clear, I have a soft spot for the much maligned 2010 movie and thought Aguilera was rather good in it. And second, the excellent cast of this noisy, frantic mess of a musical are an impressive explosion of vocal and dance talent, if not so great at the acting. But even that, I imagine, can mainly be put down to the disastrous writing and directing, ostensibly by the film's Steve Antin but allegedly increasingly a last-minute Frankenstein cobbling together by the all-singing-dancing-quipping-choreographing and spotlight-hogging Todrick Hall. At times, it's hard to remember the show isn't actually all about him.

It opened tonight in the West End on the back of mounting reports about backstage chaos, mass exits and personal dramas, and a first preview that lasted four hours. The running time actually changed twice today before the curtain went up. It was apparently eventually around two hours 45, but started over 20 minutes late and frankly felt way longer.

At its heart is a fantastic debut performance by rising singer-songwriter Jess Folley, who is blessed with an outrageous voice and easy charm. She even wrote and musically arranged a couple of the numbers. As Ali, the Iowa waitress who heads to New York to find her mother (a major change from the film) and pursue her singing dreams, she is a constant shining delight.

Aguilera co-wrote many of the film's best numbers and Show Me How You Burlesque and, particularly, the sultry roof-raising Bound To You are highlights of the musical that contrast harshly with a slew of new forgettable pastiche numbers, mainly composed by Todrick Hall. An excruciating spoof boy band number Natalie is the low point - and was done far better in Clueless.

The US star rips all the dry wit, pathos and aching depths from Stanley Tucci's gay burlesque club manager Sean, giving us a perky pile of clichés and far too many fourth wall-breaking asides about Baby Reindeer and that couple caught at the Coldplay concert. He is undeniably charismatic and a talented all-round entertainer, but what is this, panto? Tucci is the master of understated soft power, Hall steamrollers the entire production, grabbing every spotlight and zinger including 'joking' that he's put his back out from carrying the whole show. I bet everyone else loves that.

He also plays Ali's hometown choir mistress as some form of low-rent sassy Black Mrs Doubtfire. Neither role has any interior life or dimensions beyond camp. But this, also, is absolutely the fault of the entire concept and creation of the show, that sacrifices every single emotional and dramatic beat in favour of cheap gags and empty glitz.

Similarly, entertainer Orfeh as the club's owner Tess, a towering nuanced creation by Cher, just stomps angrily around trying not to lose her business. She has a staggering voice but never convinces in any (brief, rare) emotional moments. And this production heinously hacks in half her big number You Haven't Seen The Last of Me and then ruins it with ugly, rushed orchestrations.

In fact, on a low level with the uneven, sledgehammer direction is the entire musical arrangement which is frequently too fast, too tinny, too messy. All the up-tempo numbers, instead of exhilarating us, just start to grate.

The staging has excellent moving sets and a superb main backdrop screen. The dancers are uniformly sensational, but the space is too small and the group numbers often look cramped.

The film subversively worked powerful themes about female oppression and empowerment, from the unhappily pregnant dancer, to Kristen Bell's messed up alcoholic pseudo-villain. None of that registers here. Everything is played for laughs and all conflicts are laughably easily resolved. Zero dramatic tension. Zero depth.

Ali also has, yup, zero chemistry with Paul Jacob French's underwhelming Jackson. And that big mother-daughter reveal is hopelessly tanked. The other main villain, Tess' toxic ex Vince (George Maquire), is barely a panto cartoon sleaze and his toe-curling punishment dressed up in a corset and fishnets feels copied from the 9 To 5 musical.

Everything feels like it has been done better elsewhere. All the attempts at dazzling burlesquery feel like very pale shadows of Moulin Rouge. Except for one stand-out moment when male dancer Trey (Jake Dupree) finally gets to be his true self, Chardonnay. For a brief 60-second showcase, he/she brings the house down. This production needs far more visceral, vibrant moments like this.

BURLESQUE THE MUSICAL AT THE SAVOY THEATRE