Sometimes a show is so breathtaking that you leave the theatre in a state of such euphoric joy in what you’ve just seen it takes a while to come back down to earth to be able to talk about it. It doesn’t happen that often. And this is just such a show. An incredible piece that trusts the audience to use their imagination; that encourages us to believe in the world of the Narnia, and even the land of Spare Oom. We see and experience everything in glorious multi-sensory notes.
This is very close to the book, one of C. S. Lewis most famous stories, adapted with clear love for the original. The scene is set beautifully during the Second World War time of evacuees even before the show starts, with a soldier alone playing wartime songs on a piano, in single lighting, lost in his own thoughts. One of the many clever aspects of this show is that you never lose sight of when it is set, with a military theme running through the costumes of the animals. Yet you forget these are actors, you see and believe they are the animals they portray, in their aspect and movement.
It’s partly an ensemble piece, with multi-rolling, but also actors creating the scenery. The train going to Scotland with our four intrepid children on board is enchanting: we believe the journey, the people on the train bouncing and lurching, the sudden appearance of the housekeeper followed by the sudden appearance of their host. The whole thing is so super slick it’s simply superb: the choreography of the dancing and movement, sometimes as items rather than humans, everyone moving exactly in time and things appearing as if by magic. The pictures they all create on stage and the skill they show in dancing and movement are fantastic.
What’s also amazing is that for something quite stylised, the acting is also brilliant. Sometimes one comes at the expense of the other, but not in this case. The billowing snowstorm and whirling snow, the disappearing spinning wardrobe; coupled with all of the characters having depth in their portrayals. You completely believe they are who they are. There are some really funny moments as well, especially between Mr and Mrs Beaver, exactly as per the book, which is lovely, including the shock of “detachable fur” of the four children which is hilarious.
The appearance of Aslan is spectacular: there is an audible intake of breath and exclamations from the audience, as he walks slowly onto the stage. The puppetry all through is absolutely unbelievable, you just don’t see it, you simply see the creatures. The separation of actor Aslan and his power and spirit lion is a really interesting device which works really well, blending with the themes of spirit of the water and the trees and animals all the way through. You root for them all: Lucy is not too sweet and Edmund is lost and needing validation rather than being too angry that you stop caring.
The lighting design is glorious, and the sounds and music created by seemingly everybody on stage as they are walking around is truly fabulous. Where you might normally see a musical instrument stationary, they have adapted them to be able to move around: a small wheel on the bottom of the double bass, a padded neck extension at the top of the cello so it can be positioned and played while walking. The singing is glorious in the songs, and the harmonies in the vocal soundscaping are sublime. There are so many golden moments in this show: the appearance of Aslan and the dancing Turkish Delight monster are two that may live rent free in the memories of young and older audience members alike.
This is a production which seems to contain everything, and everything has been carefully considered and created. The attention to detail is stunning, even in really little things, such as a scene where people are out in the rain with umbrellas up, and the umbrellas are wet. An ensemble piece with stunning individual performances, vocal and instrumental soundscaping, songs, wonderful colours and stylising landscapes, puppetry, and an inspirational story: it has everything. A phenomenal, magical and majestic production, reminding us that even in dark times, “the sun us there, you just have to look for it.”
Theatre Royal Brighton, 11 March 2025
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe runs until 15 March 2025
Photos credit: Brinkhoff/Moegenburg
