But while some have hailed it pure genius, others found its plot-lite three hour and 15 minute running time dissipates its charms.
As a cut-to-the-chase Londoner you can spot where whole scenes could be axed without missing much, while understanding that the longeurs are the point in a show about a nightmarish, drug-addled year with disintegrating couples in an airless 70s recording studio.
It’s a workplace drama of broken coffee machines, huge bags of coke and a malfunctioning console, and designer David Zinn ably captures the claustrophobic seven-shades-of-brown recording studio where Eli Gelb’s put-upon sound engineer Grover has blagged his spot on the lie of having worked with The Eagles.
His journey of stepping up to wrangle the warring bandmates and control freakery into brilliance is part of what keeps you watching – alongside spinetingling original songs by Will Butler of Arcade Fire – brilliantly played live by the cast – which take far too long to arrive in Daniel Aukin’s patience-testing production.
It’s good to see a mutually supportive, touching female friendship with Nia Towle’s Holly, herself struggling with a broken marriage to Zachary Hart’s bass player Reg – veering between hollowed out stumbling druggie, and hopeful philosophising hippy.
Marital sniping ranges from the wordlessly frosty, to whispered rows overheard through the mic, and all out screaming.
Naturalistic overlapping small talk about dinner plans and movies is threaded through with multiple takes of tracks to demonstrate the process of getting it right.
But David Adjmi’s script is too light on wit and wisdom, and the backstage tale of the pitfalls, personalities and epiphanies of making great art has been done more entertainingly elsewhere.
Stereophonic runs at the Duke of York’s Theatre until October 11.
