Fans of my blog and my podcast will know that I hold a particular Disney musical dear to my heart. Another production was also my first experience of the West End back when I was around seven or eight years old, and like many of my generation I grew up watching their films (for the record mine are The Hunchback of Notre Dame and Pocahontas). Now I’m in my thirties, I think it’s fair to say that my relationship with Disney has changed, but one element I’m so thrilled is still a part of the connection is the fact that it can still inspire that sense of boundless joy and spark my imagination, especially when in its theatrical form. Good thing too, because there’s a new Disney musical on the block: Bedknobs and Broomsticks, based on the novels by Mary Norton and of course the 1971 film of the same name!
In the spirit of honesty, I haven’t read the original novels but I’m very fond of the film, especially the score by the wonderful Sherman Brothers, and the quirky story featuring the Rawlins siblings: Charlie, Carrie and Paul who are evacuated from war torn London to the sleepy village of Pepperinge Eye and placed under the care of the mysterious Miss Price, a woman determined to end the conflict, and with a secret: Eglantine Price is an apprentice witch! Armed with a magical bedknob, their wits and a thirst for adventure, Miss Price and the children, along with a little help from trickster Emelius Browne embark on a journey that takes them to London and beyond…
Having the film as my basis for my love of this story was both nerve wracking and exciting: how would it capture that comforting nostalgia, and yet manage to make things feel fresh? That initially felt like a potentially difficult task, but I was charmed utterly and there’s so much I loved about this piece. For me, the book by Brian Hill gave the story a darker, more mature edge and took it to places I hadn’t been expecting, along with some changes – the siblings are orphans in this piece, for example and that alone meant that at its core the story becomes about grief, family and finding your way through difficult times. Without giving any spoilers away, there’s a twist in Act II that completely changes the arc of the story – for my part there was an audible gasp and the choking back of many a tear as this broke my heart but then slowly pieced it back together again, and I found that I connected with the musical much more deeply and meaningfully than I did the film.
That’s not to say the warmth and humour within this story is lost with a more mature script by any means; I felt that it’s simply threaded through the story in different ways, and the direction: a team effort from Jamie Harrison and Candice Edmunds, balances the tone well and kept me invested even when there are occasions when the pace threatens to lag a touch, and there’s nothing like being in audience where both the youngsters and us adults were able to find our own fun and respond to whatever made us laugh, because there’s plenty of that to go around!
What struck me from the outset and ran so strongly throughout this show is the sheer joy and inventiveness in the design and how well that ties together so many of the creative elements. Energy and movement is so evident throughout, even in the scene changes, and there’s a temptation for that to become overly busy, but the level of detail is astonishing and there’s so much to draw the eye and capture your attention, even when there’s no dialogue: the train journey away from London is so atmospheric, beautifully accented by Simon Wilkinson’s lighting, which changes hues and intensity in order to bring so much character and depth to each scene.
Technical wizardry also abounds: both in close up magic (there’s a wonderful sequence on Nopeepo where Miss Price and Emelius trick the King with a switcheroo type illusion) and the bigger set pieces: Jamie Harrison excels himself with the illusion design, as you’d expect coming from Harry Potter and The Cursed Child) and the results are regularly head scratchingly delightful, including the scenes where Eglantine tames her wayward broom, people change into rabbits, and of course the infamous flying bed!
Couple this ambition with some equally joyful puppetry – my favourite being the little bear who fishes out of the lagoon, and Norton the fish – Rob Madge is an absolute scene stealing delight, their razor sharp comic timing had us eating out of their hands and some absolutely staggering choreography from Neil Bettles (Portobello Road is worth the ticket price alone in my humble opinion) and the result is a world choc full to the brim with charm and personality that’s impossible to resist. I so enjoyed how the attention to detail made its way down through to the ensemble – the ease with which they brought such character and expression to even the smallest roles was a joy to see.
As expected, all the familiar Sherman Brothers melodies are present and performed with appropriate gusto, but it’s Neil Bartram’s new material that struck the most interesting chords with me: while I felt there were perhaps one too many reprises for my taste, there’s a real warmth and sincerity throughout that developed character as well as serving the story: I especially loved the quintet version of “Nobody’s Problems” and the cheekiness of Charlie’s solo: “Negotiality”. The orchestrations by Simon Hale are also beautiful: the overture gave me chills and “The Age of Not Believing” took on a more wistful, tender quality that made it one of the evening’s highlights.
To my complete shame, I have only had the pleasure of seeing Dianne Pilkington in one other show besides this one so far – Young Frankenstein where she was absolutely hilarious, so I was excited to see her take centre stage here, and she does it so beautifully: her Eglantine is certainly no nonsense, but there’s a tenacity and spirit underneath that is immediately endearing and once more she astonished me with her physicality and gift for nuance, managing to express so much with often the deftest and subtlest of touches. She also gets to sing all of my favorite moments in this score – most notably ” A Step In The Right Direction” and “Substitutiary Locomotion” to deservedly raprurous applause and I hope this role continues to bring her the joy and recognition she’s so deserving of!
Alongside Dianne, Charles Brunton takes on the role of Emelius Browne. The piece probably gave me the biggest surprise in terms of his character, in that it once more went to places I wasn’t expecting: there’s more sweetness and vulnerability there that Charles does wonderfully with, making him immediately likeable and quietly charismatic. I loved the sense of chemistry I got from both Charles and Dianne, and took real delight in watching them play off each other, especially in the Beautiful Briny sequence where they go through all these ballroom dances and Emelius jokes about having two left feet & so on.
As ever, I was blown away by the quality of the young talent onstage alongside the adults. Dexter Barry was Paul and Izabella Bucknell played Carrie on my night, alongside Conor O’ Hara as Charlie, who brings all the cheeky humour, contradictions and angst of being a teenager plus now being the “adult” in his family to life with such power and presence and I think the writing does Charlie’s character a better service here than he got in the film, and Conor understands and explores those dynamics so well – I wish them all great success with their careers going forward and look forward to seeing more of them in future!
Going into this show, I thought I knew this story; but what I loved best was being able to find new depth and connections to it without losing the spirit that I find so endearing about the classic, thanks to a magical combo of strong cast and inventive design all round. I’ve heard talk of a potential West End transfer following the tour, rumours which I hope prove true: it’s richly deserving of a wider audience and longer life, and I’ll be there cheering it on whenever I can!
Wheelie Stagey 