I’ll admit I wasn’t especially excited about seeing this show. The idea of turning Live Aid into a musical seemed, frankly, a bit odd. I’d imagined what it might be like—some of that turned out to be accurate, but much of it pleasantly surprised me.
The title Just For One Day comes from David Bowie’s Heroes, in case the reference escapes anyone. On stage, there were six band members and—by my count—around 23 cast members. The set was strikingly minimal, save for occasional drops of stage lighting that evoked the feel of a stadium. It was, visually, a stripped-back production.
Despite the heavy historical context, this is a joyously musical show. Of course, the issue of famine remains tragically relevant—today we see enforced famine in places like Palestine and Sudan—but the focus here is on the incredible story of how, in just 53 days, Live Aid was organised and broadcast across the globe from Wembley and Philadelphia. For younger audiences, this show might serve as a vivid history lesson; for those of us who remember it, it’s a nostalgic time machine powered by a killer soundtrack.
What works especially well is how the songs are woven into the narrative in a Mamma Mia-style fashion—yet never feeling corny. The cast are uniformly excellent. Apart from Shucked at Regent’s Park (now closed), this is easily the best musical I’ve seen this year.
Yes, it’s a jukebox musical, but here the “jukebox” spans a range of iconic artists, allowing the show to pull in tracks that genuinely serve the story. One standout moment involves Margaret Thatcher and Bob Geldof in a hilarious dance-rap sequence about VAT refunds on the Do They Know It’s Christmas? single—a bold creative risk that absolutely pays off, raising the roof with laughter.
The show captures all the legendary moments: the youthful drive of Bob Geldof, the scepticism of manager Harvey Goldsmith, and the sheer scale of global coordination. And it doesn’t attempt to impersonate the stars—it celebrates the music by letting the cast sing as themselves, which gives the production its own identity and flair.
The staging is simple but effective, with live camera feeds, projected videos, and minimal props enhancing the concert atmosphere. It wouldn’t feel out of place as an off-West End production that’s matured and grown into a mainstage hit.
I was lucky enough to attend press night—and the cherry on top was Bob Geldof himself appearing at the end, passionately urging the audience to support the show. He reminded us that this isn’t a narcissistic nostalgia-fest; it’s about inspiration—about passing the baton. As he put it, “Greta Thunberg can’t do everything.”
This is a show filled with joy, heart, and purpose. Yes, it addresses a serious issue from the 1980s—but it does so through music, story, and sheer performance energy. If you want to feel uplifted, to dance in your seat, and to remember what collective action can achieve, go see this show. It’s moving, hilarious, and, above all, inspiring.
My seat in the Grand Circle was £35—and honestly, it felt like a bargain for such a feel-good, thought-provoking night out. Don’t hesitate. Book it.