Bombay Dreams is a sort of "Cinderfella" -- a totally predictable, rather amusing, corny melodrama about a poor boy and his rise to Movie Star, with big splashes of color (set and costumes by Mark Thompson). It has the feel of Las Vegas as seen thru the eyes of a bad dinner- theater choreographer with dance movements all synchronized and all right on the beat. In fact, choreographers this artless, without counterpoint or counter rhythm, should have their dance shoes removed and be drummed out of the movement business. The offenders are Anthony Van Laast and Farah Khan. It's also all very old fashioned, with a monumental naivete in the love songs by A R Rahman (music) and Don Black (lyrics), and, in fact, in the whole show (book by Meera Syal and Thomas Meehan).
Leading man Manu Nrayan has an appealing sweetness, and many of the cast are good performers with pro singing voices, and, as directed by Steven Pimlott, they have an innocent approach to musical performing that probably goes really well in the rural provinces of India. Actually, the show is so bad, it's fun, and an unsophisticated tourist would probably have a great time.
