"...Clarke plays Darryl van Horne, the lecher from New York who transforms the barren love lives of three divorced New England ladies played by marvellous Joanna Riding, the lush and lively Josefina Gabrielle and the blonde bombshell Rebecca Thornhill. Did I enjoy it more this time round? Well, yes, actually. Not a lot, but a bit. Acres of musical score go by with no redeeming qualities whatsoever. There a new, busy jazz number for Darryl in which he tanks up his vanity shortly before the church incinerates on his wedding day... Eric Schaeffer's production is vastly improved and fun to watch... I'll bet against anyone humming a tune in five years' time. But good things happen: small town, old-style, vivid choreography, and Clarke Peters' 24 carat-gold devilish star turn for starters." The Daily Mail

"...Now it has transferred to the smaller Prince of Wales, McShane has been replaced by the great Clarke Peters, and The Witches of Eastwick looks like a brimmingly confident smash hit... Dana P Rowe's terrific score has a brassy vaudevillian oomph, as well as a few gentler, more tender moments, and the tunes lodge themselves pleasurably in the memory. John Dempsey's book is full of excellent jokes while his lyrics crackle with wit and sophistication... The night's greatest triumph, though, belongs to Peters... [his] comic timing is a thing of beauty, his hoofing a wonder to behold, his manifest enjoyment of the show infectious... There's oustanding work, too, from Josefina Gabrielle, Joanna Riding and Rebecca Thornhill... The show has the slick expensive sheen which is Mackintosh's trademark, with delightfully witty designs by Bob Crowley, exciting choreography by Bob Avian and Stephen Mear and a production by Eric Schaeffer that never sags. No doubt about it, The Witches of Eastwick offers a wickedly entertaining night on the town." The Daily Telegraph

"...[Clarke] Peters's energy can't conceal the gluey, half-baked nature of the American pie he's asked to serve us. You can see John Dempsey's lyrics coming a mile away, but sadly there's no place to hide... Traditional advice on writing musicals says that the songs should advance action and/or reveal character. The songs by Dempsey and Dana P Rowe, though, tell us several times what we've heard an hour before, or can see for ourselves – that Darryl is sexy, or that the townspeople disapprove of his carrying on with the witches... This heavy-handedness shows that this latest product from the Cameron Mackintosh Musical Manufactory knows its target audience – women who iron while they watch TV, phone-chat with friends, and shout at the kids. Rowe's tunes, which dribble along ineffectually until they arrive at a sudden, blasting triumphal note (wake up, you in the back row) match Dempsey's soothing paeans to know-nothing narcissism ("Everything I needed was there inside of me")..." The Independent

Extracts from the reviews (Original cast at Theatre Royal Drury Lane: Ian McShane as 'Darryl Van Horne' with Lucie Arnaz, Maria Friedman and Joanna Riding as the three witches, 'Alexandra', 'Sukie' and 'Jane' along with Rosemary Ashe, Peter Joback, Caroline Sheen and Stephen Tate):

"...Ian McShane hams it up to high Heaven as the sexy Satan immortalised on screen by Jack Nicholson. And Lucie Arnaz, Maria Friedman and Joanna Riding are a sensation as the ever-so-willing witches... The show is both old fashioned musical and up-to-date sex comedy. It is full of wonderfully wicked one-liners. And no expense is spared on special effects. Musical instruments have a life of their own, the town busy-body spits feathers, cherries, a tennis ball and a foot-long candle. The witches fly higher than Peter Pan ever did - and forget a crashing chandelier as in the Phantom Of The Opera, the climax sees an entire church come tumbling down. This cost £4.5million to stage. It was money well spent. It is sexy, spectacular and an awful lot of fun." The Mirror

"...The show trundels along with good humour, gags and spectacular sets. But it's basically a second-rate musical wrapped in a £5million budget. Musicals stand or fall by their scores and this, by Dana P Rowe with book and lyrics by John Dempsey, never once struck me as anything original or even devilish... The ladies - sarcastic sculptress Lucie Arnaz, screwball teacher Maria Friedman, and buttoned-up musician Joanna Riding - all come under the priapic spell of Ian McShane's sweaty-faced devil who hammers out his songs with an almost medical rasp. No amount of black magic would get me into bed with him, but it works on the girls... There's a fabulous flying scene that knocks Peter Pan into a cocked hat. It has its moments for sure, but it's a modest addition to London's ample stock of modest musicals." The Express

"The West End finally has a new musical worth making a song and dance about... it is a genuinely likeable and witty show that sends you out into the night with a spring in your step and a smile on your face... This is a show where memorable tunes are intercut with sharp dialogue, the leading actors crack jokes (sometimes very rude ones), and the scale is emphatically human even if the subject matter does jokily embrace the supernatural. Dana P. Rowe's score has an exuberantly brassy, vaudevillian quality, though there are a couple of tunes of aching tenderness too, while the book and lyrics by John Dempsey are blessed with genuine wit... [Ian McShane] seems like a dramatic pygmy... His eyes may glitter and his teeth may flash in supposedly satanic smiles, but there is little sense here of either danger or sexual magnetism... Fortunately the performances of the actresses playing the coven of Eastwick witches offer far better value - and all sing superbly. They work together well as a team, but are strongly individual too... the ensemble perform energetic and inventive dance routines choreographed by Bob Avian and Stephen Mear. Bob Crowley's witty and evocative designs conjure up small town America in a lost age of innocence, while Eric Schaeffer's slick production boasts plenty of fizz..." The Daily Telegraph

"...What is most surprising is that this is really an old-fashioned book musical, in which Dana P Rowe's tunes grow logically out of John Dempsey's story... At their best, Dempsey's book and lyrics have a nice snap and crackle that evoke the lost art of musical comedy... But what really gives this show its style are Bob Crowley's superb designs and Eric Schaeffer's crisp direction... Ian McShane as the devil may not have all the best tunes but, after a long absence from the stage, he overflows with energy and a leering, saloon bar smuttiness. And, amongst the three sex-hungry women, Maria Friedman is outstanding... Joanna Riding is also sharply funny... and Lucie Arnaz cracks wise as the leggy sculptor. Rowe's music may be amiable rather than instantly memorable. But, in a genre that has become top heavy with portentous spectacle, this show gaily reminds us of the musical's traditional mission to delight and divert. Though it may fall off a bit in the second half, it is the best devil invoking musical since Damn Yankees." The Guardian

"...The good thing about The Witches of Eastwick is that you know exactly where you are. The bad thing about it is that you know exactly where you are. John Dempsey (book and lyrics) and Dana P Rowe (music) have written a good, old-fashioned musical comedy (for once the word is not redundant) with a touch of subversion into the mix - a family show with an X-rated subtext. John Dempsey's book is quick-witted, peppered with smart one-liners and played by a cast who know how to land them. Together, he and his partner bed us down in the Broadway tradition with a series of well-integrated but - and here's the rub - all too predictable songs... Even so, the enjoyment factor is high, the production values sky-high. Notwithstanding that this is a small show writ very large, it's good to see Cameron Mackintosh pushing the boat out on fresh talent... The best that can be said of this likeable and beautifully mounted show is that it keeps alive a dying tradition. If only it were also advancing its cause." The Independent

"Musical comedy is a rare species these days, so this likeable rambunctious new show produced by Sir Cameron Mackintosh could prove just the ticket for a slow summer season. I wish the music were better, or more zesty, or even remotely memorable, the narrative more coherent, and the choreography more brilliant, but you can't have everything... McShane is a wonderful surprise, glinting slyly at the audience, leading the townsfolk ever deeper into delirium and seducing the ladies in a red boudoir. And he can really put across a number, even a number that refuses to fly when he launches it. Talking of which the first act ends with a spectacular flying finale as the three gay divorcees zoom into the hallowed auditorium - out, up and away above our heads. My only regret is that their support wires are as visible as the tramlines in Budapest or Manchester... Bob Crowley's designs cleverly conjure New England, and there are moments of genuine magic when a downtown diner is transformed into a go-go jukebox. Otherwise, these witches leave sonic broom for improvement." The Daily Mail

"...Dana P. Rowe's music remains refreshingly tuneful, whether it opts for the energetic and brash or for the soft and slightly soppy. John Dempsey's rhymes are never feeble or silly, though seldom very clever. But I caught myself wishing for a dash of Sondheim or Weill, a pinch more toughness and acerbity, along with the fingernails and frogs in the witches' brew... the evening veers towards sentimentality, and we end with an uplifting ode to personal growth and the merits of sisterhood... Ian McShane's black-haired, black-suited Darryl shimmers and slithers about, a phallic-looking cigar in his mouth, generating enough mocking charisma to explain his coven's allegiance. Friedman guys Sukie's initial gormlessness too much, but does marvels with a patter song that accelerates to 100mph as she sheds her inarticulacy and shyness. Arnaz brings a lovely blend of wit and sensuality to a song in which she mentally fast-forwards to Darryl's bed. Riding has only to unloose her hair and put on a sexy tennis outfit to turn from a starched schoolmarm into maybe the most besotted of them all. I only wish they had more opportunity to be what they could be: full-blooded American hags." The Times

"...[Ian] McShane's red and white striped blazer, black pyjamas and enormous cigars are the most dramatic aspects of his underpowered, droopy performance... At least, Lucie Arnaz's flippantly, wisecracking sculptress, Joanna Riding as the cellist, who sacrifices primness for head-on passion, and Maria Friedman in terrific voice as a girl, forever missing out on the main chance of a man, put on a scintillating theatrical and musical show... Of the 20 songs, some inspiring frenetic choreography by Bob Avian and Stephen Mear, just one, the witty Dirty Laundry, boasts the impact of a hit. And Maria Friedman also plays powerful, poignant vocal gymnastics in Words, Words Words. But though Rowe's score achieves snatches of symphonic excitement and drama, this is a musical where the scenes between songs and music provide most of the fun and amusement." The London Evening Standard