There are shows that entertain you, and then there are shows that move you. That shifts something in your spirit. Last night, Rory and I had the pleasure of watching TINA: The Tina Turner Musical at the Birmingham Hippodrome, and it’s safe to say this production does both. It’s more than a musical — it’s a powerful tribute to a woman who defied the odds and dared to reclaim her name, voice, and freedom.
From the moment the show begins, you are invited into Tina’s world. Not just the glitz and glam of her superstar years, but the raw and often heart-wrenching journey it took to get there. Her story unfolds with grit, grace, and an authenticity that forces you to reflect — not just on Tina’s life, but on the strength of Black women everywhere.
Tina Turner’s story is well known to many, but to witness it unfold on stage in such an intimate, visceral way is something else entirely. Born Anna Mae Bullock in Nutbush, Tennessee, her early life was shaped by poverty, racism, and abandonment. As a young girl, she experienced rejection from her parents, which planted seeds of resilience that would carry her through the darkest of seasons.
What struck me most was how familiar this journey felt. The sacrifices. The silencing. The survival. The expectation is to perform excellence while enduring pain behind closed doors. Tina’s life is a mirror held up to many women, especially Black women, who have had to wear strength like a uniform. And yet, she didn’t just survive. She transcended.
The talent on that stage? Next level. The lead actress portraying Tina does more than impersonate; she embodies her. From the raspy, powerhouse vocals to the signature strut across the stage, it was as if Tina herself were present. The choreography pulsed with energy, the live band was electric, and the costume transitions gave full rockstar drama.
Every song was a moment. From the aching vulnerability in “Private Dancer” to the defiant explosion of “Nutbush City Limits,” the soundtrack of Tina’s life took us on a journey. And when the first few notes of “Proud Mary” rang out near the finale, the entire audience was on their feet. Goosebumps. Tears. Joy. It was church. It was therapy. It was a celebration.
This is more than a girls’ night out. More than nostalgia. TINA: The Musical is a masterclass in storytelling, courage, and creative excellence. It honours the complexity of Tina’s life, the highs, the lows, the rebirth and leaves you walking out of the theatre with your head a little higher, your heart a little fuller, and your soul a little more awakened.
Rory and I found ourselves talking all the way home, not just about Tina, but the importance of telling our stories without shame. About how music heals. About how pain can become purpose. And how important it is for Black stories, especially those of Black women, to be told on our terms.
Whether you’re a lifelong Tina fan or just discovering her genius, this is a production you don’t want to miss. It’s suitable for ages 14+, and I’d highly recommend it for mothers and daughters, couples, friends — anyone who needs a reminder of the fire that lives inside them.
Tina Turner once said, “Sometimes you’ve got to let everything go — purge yourself. If you are unhappy with anything… let it go. Free yourself.” That’s exactly what this show does. It frees you.
So book the ticket. Watch the show. And walk out, reminded of your own power.
🎟️ TINA: The Tina Turner Musical is playing at Birmingham Hippodrome for a limited run. Visit birminghamhippodrome.com to book now.
TINA doesn’t shy away from the truth. It tackles abuse, exploitation, racism, and ageism with a raw honesty that’s rare in mainstream theatre. And in doing so, it reminds us that true transformation often comes through fire.
There’s a scene where Tina is left with nothing. No name. No money. No future. And when asked what she wants, she responds with unwavering conviction: “My name. I just want my name.” That line hit me in the chest. Because for so many of us, building our legacies — whether in business, relationships, or life, that’s what we’re fighting for. The right to own our stories. The right to be remembered on our terms.
Review by Justice Williams
