REVIEW: She Loves Me - Phoenix Ensemble

She Loves Me 

Presented by: Phoenix Ensemble

Date Attended: 8 August 2026

Book: Joe Masteroff | Music: Jerry Bock | Lyrics: Sheldon Harnick

Director and Set Design: Sherryl-Lee Secomb

Music Director: Emma Erdis

Choreographer: Jaime O’Donoghue

Sound: Luke O’Hagan

Lighting: Liam Gilliland

Costumes: Emma Parkinson

Intimacy Coordinator: Tammy Sarah Linde

Stage Manager: Fiona Mumford

Photography: Loud Photography / Creative Street / By B’rit Creative

“Dear friend…”

Before dating apps and stalking someone’s socials, romance involved waiting days for a handwritten reply from someone whose face you’d never even seen. She Loves Me takes us back to 1934, when two strangers could fall completely in love without realising they weren’t strangers at all.

The musical is the third adaptation of the 1937 play Parfumerie by Hungarian playwright Miklós László, following the 1940 film The Shop Around the Corner and the 1949 musical film In the Good Old Summertime (and later inspiring the Hanks-Ryan flick You’ve Got Mail). Premiering on Broadway in 1963, She Loves Me follows the staff of Maraczek’s Parfumerie, where manager Georg Nowack and new employee Amalia Balash cannot stand each other. Neither has any idea that they are also the anonymous “Dear Friends” exchanging increasingly intimate letters outside work.

Under the direction and design of Sherryl-Lee Secomb, the production looks like a classic film brought to life in colour. Secomb’s parfumerie set features pastel mint and purple hues, complemented by styled wigs, vintage-style costumes, and those consistently pasted-on retail smiles. I must admit, Ilona’s green velvet dress is undoubtedly my favourite. Despite our supposedly Hungarian location, this Budapest is populated by British accents, with Georg pronounced as the more familiar George.

Life at Maraczek’s is wonderfully ostentatious. These aren’t sales assistants who simply thank you for your purchase. They literally sing you out the door. Masteroff’s book is full of character-driven humour, with everyone bringing their own neuroses, romantic fiascos, workplace loyalties, and polished public personas. The score is packed with short, frequent numbers that make their point then move along. Bock and Harnick’s music is sneakier than it first appears. Just when I think I know where it’s heading, the melody turns, a character changes their mind mid-song, or the emotional direction shifts underneath them. This cast rides those changes beautifully, guided by Emma Erdis’ musical direction.

David West makes Georg exactly the sort of irritating manager you’d complain about to your coworkers after your shift. He is particular, self-important, and a tad oblivious, but there’s enough spark in his constant bickering with Chloe Evans as Amalia that their hostility never feels one-note.  In “Tonight at Eight,” we see Georg’s nerves about meeting his mystery sweetheart send him increasingly off the rails until he is practically dismantling the shop. Then “She Loves Me” (roll credits) gives us the complete opposite. After spending so much of the show tightly wound, Georg finally gets to be giddy and overwhelmed by his own happiness.

Chloe Evans as Amalia is excitable and optimistic, with a bright classical soprano that suits this old romantic world beautifully. “I Don’t Know His Name” captures the ridiculousness of being so invested in someone almost entirely theoretical, while “Will He Like Me?” turns that sunny confidence into a puddle of nerves. “Dear Friend” is especially intimate, like we are accidentally witnessing a private confession.

Evans also has excellent comic instincts, from a spectacularly furious tirade at Georg (Amalia may be a romantic girly, but she can absolutely lose it) to the fever-induced playful “Where’s My Shoe?”. “Vanilla Ice Cream” then lets Evans flex that classic soprano sound while navigating Amalia’s thoughts changing quicker than she can process them.

Around them is a staff I’d happily be served by. August Cocks is dangerously smooth as Steven Kodaly, a complete jerk played with such effortless charm that it’s easy to see how he keeps getting away with everything. I’d probably hand over cash for the overpriced perfume without a second thought. His song “Ilona” with Grace Clarke is a cheeky piece of musical flirtation, boosted by Jaime O’Donoghue’s characterful choreography. “Grand Knowing You” hits my ears as another musically tasty standout.

Grace Clarke is perfectly cast as Ilona Ritter, completely disappearing into her sharp wit and larger-than-life confidence. Ilona doesn’t take long to decide she’s done putting up with rubbish men, making “I Resolve” her full doormat-to-door-slammer moment (and my new go-to anthem). Later, “A Trip to the Library” gives Clarke another great storytelling moment as Ilona unexpectedly stumbles into a much healthier romantic prospect.

Mike Zarate gives Sipos the air of the coworker who has survived every possible office drama. His solo “Perspective” lands with the wise confidence of someone who has absolutely seen this all before and knows exactly when to duck out of the firing line. Joshua Brandon’s Arpad Laszlo is basically a puppy in a sweater vest. He’s eager, desperate to prove himself, and someone I’d have adopted into my friendship circle by shift two. “Try Me” turns all that enthusiasm into an adorable (and surprisingly convincing) job application. Now that is how you get yourself promoted people. James Hogan as Mr Maraczek is all boss-man bluster and crankiness at first, but there’s clearly something heavier simmering underneath it. Without giving too much away, Hogan handles the moments where the musical briefly steps outside its rom-com bubble with enough restraint to stop the tonal shift from becoming jarring.

Reece Rostedt steals every available moment as the tightly wound maître d’ in “A Romantic Atmosphere”. The restaurant sequence becomes its own little comedy piece, especially during the absurdly fast “Tango Tragique”, where every attempt to preserve sophistication is gradually destroyed by increasingly hopeless waitstaff. Isabella Farry makes the most of her featured moments, trying to master the required poise with increasingly disastrous results. Jaime O’Donoghue’s choreography sends the dancers scurrying around with a distinctly Mary Poppins penguin-waiters quality.

The ensemble hits peak hilarity during the Christmas retail chaos. If you’ve ever survived customer service in December, you’ll relate. Clerks, customers, and carollers flood the store as those polished retail smiles begin to crack. Secomb’s direction is excellent here. Instead of simply making the stage look “busy”, individual messes pile on top of one another until the whole store is collectively losing its mind. And the audience absolutely ate it up.

I would have had no idea She Loves Me premiered in 1963 from the way this production plays. There is nothing dusty or museum-like about the writing or acting. The humour comes from recognisable people, and it never needs to make fun of its characters to get a laugh. It’s simply a lot of fun to watch. Plus, the central idea has aged very little. Technology has changed considerably since the 1930s, but hiding behind a carefully constructed version of yourself before letting another person see the flawed human underneath is hardly an extinct dating habit.

For such a sweet, funny, and surprisingly underrated musical, She Loves Me deserves far more attention than it gets. I walked in knowing very little about it and left wondering why this wonderful little romantic comedy isn’t staged more often.

Dear Friend, consider this my recommendation.