Trainspotting: The Musical (Theatre Royal Haymarket)

Last Updated on August 3, 2026

Much-loved 90s Scottish cult classic movie about heroin addiction gets a slightly baffling musical makeover

3.0 out of 5.0 stars

Thirty years ago back in my provincial hometown, I sat down in the local movie theatre to watch Trainspotting.  The subject matter (heroin addiction) did not sound like something that I would ordinarily be interested in, but everyone was talking about it and the posters looked anarchic and intriguing. I remember the opening sequence hitting me like a sonic boom.  No slow intro music or cinematic niceties here – you were plunged headlong into an adrenaline-fuelled sprint, and one of the most iconic monologues in film. I was blown away. Thirty years on, the seminal and much-loved film (originally a book which has already spawned both a stage adaptation and an “immersive experience”) has now been redeveloped as a stage musical, Trainspotting: The Musical, which promises to “transport you back to the 90s”.

The musical adaptation of Trainspotting has been done in co-operation with the book’s author Irvine Welsh, drawing on source material from both his original 1993 novel Trainspotting as well as subsequent prequels and sequels like Skagboys and Trainspotting T2.  Welsh himself battled heroin addiction in the early 1980s while living in London and Edinburgh and used scribbled notes documenting his own experiences as the basis for the first book. The book’s depictions are so accurate that reportedly junkies would approach Welsh after its publication complaining that he had written “their” book.  The other interesting feature of the novel is that it is written phonetically in the Scots dialect of Welsh’s native Leith, a maritime neighbourhood of Edinburgh.  Welsh’s involvement has meant that, despite the “musicalification”, the essential grittiness and themes of both the book and the film are retained in the new production. The musical has also not attempted to tone down the Scots dialect or broad Scottish accents, anchoring Trainspotting firmly in Edinburgh.

For the uninitiated, the story is set in the economically depressed working-class area of Leith, Edinburgh, in the 1990s. There is a diminishing number of jobs and opportunities; Scotland is “colonised by” the English and all the money and opportunities seem to be concentrated in the south, far from the daily reality of the characters. Parents lament their children’s lack of work ethic and success, and fret over them falling into drug addiction, crime or prison – or dying in the British Army in a conflict that they feel is not Scotland’s.  Their offspring entertain themselves with football, heroin, petty crime and violence as they face their increasingly bleak future.  

The story centres on five principal characters.  Mark “Rentboy” Renton (Lewis Kidd) is the main protagonist through whose eyes and narration we experience the story.  He is clever, cynical and the most self-aware of the group. Simon “Sickboy” Williamson (Sheridan Townsley) is suave but amoral and manipulative, always on the lookout for the next scam to make money. Daniel “Spud” Murphy (Kieran Andrew) is the goofiest, kindest and most naïve of the group – easily exploited but often also protected by his friends. Francis “Franco” Begbie (Frankie O’Connor) is an unpredictable and violent psychopath addicted to alcohol rather than heroin: charming one minute, he turns on friends and strangers alike at the drop of a hat. Tommy (Finlay Paul) is the most clean-cut of the group, loving music, his girlfriend and football and never taking drugs, until his girlfriend leaves him.

Trainspotting: The Musical features all five of the above characters but also dials down or fleshes out the roles of some supporting characters that will be familiar from the film. Renton’s girlfriend Kelly (Diane in the movie, played on stage by Yana Harris), who in the film challenges him to change, is downgraded to a nagging voice of complaint here.  Renton’s parents (played by Rebecca McKinnis and Gordon Cooper) and Spud’s mother  (Ashley J Russell) have greatly expanded roles in the musical version and are used to provide social context and highlight the wider impact of heroin and poverty on families.

The film’s soundtrack was a huge part of its iconic status and enduring appeal – few can forget the explosive opening sequence featuring Iggy Pop’s “Lust for Life” or the closing credits rolling to Underworld’s “Born Slippy”.  The musical version of Trainspotting isn’t a jukebox version of the film but has gone down a middle way of retaining  some of the favourites from the film; plus some era-defining music from the 90s and original new songs from genres including urban house, northern soul, blues, disco and rock ballads.  The show wisely opens and closes with the classics – “Lust for Life” and Lou Reed’s “Perfect Day”.  As with all musicals, there are moments when people burst into song for no good reason, but somehow in a musical based on heroin addiction this is even more incongruous than usual. While the 90s additions “Bittersweet Symphony” and “Drop Dead Gorgeous” work well and enhance the narrative, the original additions, unfortunately, left me cold for the most part, seldom adding much to the story and mostly musically forgettable.  The exception is “C**ts in the Country”, a rhythmically aggressive, politically charged country & western style hoedown about rural respectability versus urban deprivation with razor sharp lyrics courtesy of Stephen McGuinness and Welsh himself.

Casting is excellent, and for the most part, fans of the film will not be disappointed – everyone (except perhaps Tommy) very much looks the part.  Standout performances are from Frankie O’Connor (whose Begbie is articulate as well as perfectly explosive and menacing ) and Kieran Andrew (whose Spud is a dead ringer for the role that Ewen Bremner made famous on film, down to his endearing but socially awkward mannerisms).  In fact, director and movement director Caroline Jay Ranger deserves special mention for the excellent physical performances that she has elicited, especially from Kieran, as well as Lewis, who writhes in convincing agony as Renton during his cold-turkey withdrawal. Sheridan Townsley (who was a terrific lead in Sing Street last year) plays Sickboy with just the right amount of swagger, and in a cast where very few voices are really up to the challenge, he stands out as the strongest male vocal performance. Ashley Russell’s solo number is the strongest among the female voices – but apart from these two and the cast ensemble numbers, overall vocals are not a selling point. The set is very basic, relying mostly on projections and two movable walls as well as a collection of chairs/tables that the cast move around to switch between the social club, a drug den bedroom, a train and a hotel room.  I did like that the excellent live band and backing vocalists were visible through a glass door as part of the set. Costumes are also excellent and authentically 1990s with skinny jeans aplenty and check shirts tied around waists.

I was less keen on the inherent (but not unexpected) silliness of a story about hopelessness and heroin having songs shoehorned into it, most of which did nothing but reduce the time available for plot or character development. At one point, Renton unnecessarily breaks into song while Spud breaks the fourth wall and asks, “What is even going on right now? Why are you singing?” – a question that much of the audience was also asking at this point.  I also get that Welsh wanted to underscore the story’s continued relevance by expanding on the contemporary themes of wealth disparity and youth unemployment, but there is not enough flesh on the narrative bones for this to open the eyes of a fresh audience to such debate; and it takes too much time and focus away from the original story to please the existing fan base. I did enjoy the foray into northern soul when the group take a trip to Blackpool by train, and the scene where Tommy descends into addiction to “Bittersweet Symphony” is excellent.  But the idea of staging the angry rant of “C**ts in the Country” as a yee-haw country music hoedown was frankly bizarre in the middle of drug-addled 1990s Leith.

Probably the biggest issues for me were the pacing/chronology and the lack of emotional heft. On pacing, the entire production seemed to gallop so fast from one song or iconic film scene/line to the next that it would have been exceedingly hard to follow the narrative arc if you were not already familiar with the book or the film (potentially also not helped by the dialect and heavy accents).  The contextualising of the socio-economic issues and the illustrating of the knock-on effects of addiction take up so much stage time that it often felt like iconic film lines were worked into scenes where they did not quite fit (Renton’s “it’s shite being Scottish” monologue or Sickboy’s Sean Connery accent), or were presented almost as an in-joke with so little context that new audiences might not really get it (Spud’s iconic dirty sheets scene).  The baby scene and the closing scene, which is such a pivotal moment in the film where Renton finally realises he has outgrown his crew, are both galloped through in the blink of an eye. It feels like the fan favourite lines and scenes are presented as a series of snippets, mostly without context, ticked off on a tick list rather than being fully integrated into the story.  And then there is the problem that much of the anger, despair and emotional weight of the film is totally lost in this production. Everything seems a bit sanitised, from the violence to the drug-taking.  The shock value of the subject material and gratuitous swearing has dissipated over the past 30 years and needs to be replaced by some emotional depth on stage – but this was not forthcoming.  Whereas Renton’s monologue above was spat out with real anger and articulate venom in the film, here it is cantered through with a half smirk, the words rushed over and lost before they can make any emotional impact.

Overall it’s not bad, and I think the young cast (many of whom were not yet born when the film came out) give it their all. But it feels like a production still in final rehearsals with some wrinkles still needing to be ironed out in terms of pacing and coherent narrative arc. Judging by the audience on press night, it certainly pleased the fans of the original film, and it was definitely a pleasure to hear some of my favourite film lines spoken live on the London stage – but I am not sure what audiences without prior context or knowledge of the book or film will make of it. As somebody on Reddit has already said, if the book was the father, the film was the son and the play was the grandson, the musical is the step-cousin: distantly related and no heir to its greatness.

I left the original film on a high, having laughed, cried, felt revulsion, and fallen in love with Sickboy (!): as if I had been on a 90-minute rollercoaster ride of emotion. I left Trainspotting: the Musical feeling bemused and slightly baffled by what I had just seen, admittedly having enjoyed wallowing in a bit of 90s nostalgia – but not emotionally moved in any way. The story’s central themes of extreme wealth disparity, lack of youth opportunities, and the subtle addictions that almost every one of us succumbs to (drugs, alcohol, food, social media, TV binges) are arguably even more relevant today than they were 30 years ago.  I’m just not sure that a musical version of the story was the best way to remind us of their ongoing relevance.

Trainspotting is on at the Theatre Royal Haymarket from 15 July till 5 September before it goes on a national tour. The runtime is 2h30m including an interval, and tickets can be booked here, starting from £30.

Trainspotting
Theatre Royal Haymarket
Haymarket
London
SW1Y 4HT

Box office tel: 020 7930 8800
E-mail: customerservices@trh.co.uk

Looking for more theatre productions? Check out our West End theatre previews for the summer and autumn of 2026