★★★

“The cast are superb across the board and there is an easy camaraderie that adds to the feelgood factor”

It is a bold statement to tag your show with the subtitle ‘A Musical Reinvented’. But there is nothing faint-hearted about Bradley Bredeweg’s reinterpretation of Tim Burton’s classic and gothic fairytale. Direct from Los Angeles, it bursts onto the London stage as though heading for Wembley Arena, but instead took a wrong turn and landed up in the three-hundred-seater, Southwark venue. Edward Scissorhands, the solemn and doleful outsider, has morphed into a rock legend of their own making – if only for a few fleeting seconds before retreating behind the bank of loudspeakers to await rediscovery.

The tale of an outsider trying to ‘fit in’ is an obvious celebration of being different; yet it is hard to maintain the impact of this message when the whole ensemble are complete weirdos anyway. A delightful bunch, nonetheless. Jordan Kai Burnett’s Scissorhands is slightly pushed into the shadows as a result, eclipsed by the eccentrics that surround them. Emma Williams, as Avon Lady Peg who adopts the waif-like Scissorhands, also adopts the role of protagonist with her wonderfully kooky, mad-as-a-hatter portrayal of the American housewife. Neighbours Joyce (Tricia Adele-Turner), Esmerelda (Annabelle Terry) and Helen (Ryan O’Connor) are as maverick and flamboyant as Abby Clarke’s primary-coloured costume design; while Dionne Gipson’s striking, ethereal ‘Inventor’ holds court from on high.

We are never completely emotionally engaged, but are always sucked into the sheer energy and sense of fun with which the performers are swamping the stage. And even if the song list gratuitously breaks the continuity of the story, the numbers are delivered with a powerful virtuosity. Like many juke-box musicals, the choice is hit and miss – some forming a neat and natural segue from the dialogue, whereas others are as isolated from the plot as Scissorhands is from reality. But, boy, there are some belters in there! Annabelle Terry’s ‘Heaven is a Place on Earth’ is a standout moment, along with Tricia Adele-Turner’s ‘Bleeding Love’ and Dionne Gipson’s ‘Mad World’. Emma Williams majestically reinvents ‘Creep’ (even though we really feel the song belongs to Scissorhands), and throughout the show, the wall of sound created by musical director Arlene McNaught’s five-piece band threaten to bring the roof down.

It is quite the spectacle, but the nuances of Burton’s original are lost in the mix, just as the quirkiness is occasionally obscured by an earnestness that is shoe-horned in. Rather than reinvented, the musical is relabelled – somewhat superficially like a ‘new-and-improved’, ‘special-offer’ packaging. Overtly establishing in a throwaway line of dialogue the correct pronoun for the lead character merely scratches the surface of the essential issue, while we either want it to dig deeper, or else take it as a given (as it should be).

There is a fair amount of disarray, but we cannot mistake the sheer joyfulness of it. The cast are superb across the board and there is an easy camaraderie that adds to the feelgood factor. The audience feel part of it all, especially when the fourth wall breaks down and boundaries are overstepped. Improvised ad-libs are let loose, often as sharp as the blades of Scissorhands’ make-shift fingers.

“Scissorhandz” is a fun-loving, camp, boisterous show bursting to crash through the walls of its chosen venue. But like Scissorhands themself, is a bit of a chimera – not quite fully formed. Yet there is something special in there, and it is an extraordinary piece of musical theatre. Its message implores us to seek that ‘special something’ within ourselves. Applied to itself, this show could well be onto a winning path to completion.

[ TITLE OF SHOW ] at Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★

“you have to hand it to the four performers – they know how to deliver. All of them have solid pipes and their whip crack dialogue rattles along at pace”

It’s cold and wet in Southwark. If your idea of an autumnal pick-me-up is to watch four perky Americans sing a running commentary about themselves for 90 minutes, you’re in for a treat.

If you’re looking to bury yourself further into your damp irritation, you can attend the same show and find validating levels of pique.

It’s that kind of show. Often at the same time.

The title of [Title of Show] comes from the entry form for the New York Musical Festival. Clueless about what to enter, aspiring writers and performers Hunter and Jeff decide to turn their mundane blather into the product. What we’re watching is the creative process as both the creative process and the result of the creative process. Meta on steroids.

“We could put this exact conversation in the show,” says Hunter after a particularly moribund exchange. But “would other people want to watch something like that?”

We’ll see.

The problem is apparent straight away. The creative process, even fictionalised, is notoriously indulgent. You end up with songs about writing songs about writing songs. Russian dolls with nothing at the centre.

[Title of Show] – directed by Christopher D Clegg, with musical direction by Tom Chippendale – is utterly obsessed by the mechanics of its own creation. The conceit throws up some genuinely witty moments and clever-clever theatrical in-jokes but has the feel of a student end-of-year showcase aimed at a knowing audience.

When the two women, Heidi and Susan, are left alone for the first time after the two main characters go off stage to do some business, they have nothing to offer except a song about two women being left alone for the first time while the two main characters go off stage to do some business.

It’s like that all the way through. Clever but without purpose.

You’re never left alone to enjoy a moment without the nature of the moment being retold as a rhyme. To be fair, the script does frequently question whether this is one huge mistake.

However, you have to hand it to the four performers – they know how to deliver. All of them have solid pipes and their whip crack dialogue rattles along at pace.

Jacob Fowler (Hunter), Abbie Budden (Heidi), Mary Moore (Susan) and Thomas Oxley (Jeff) have sumptuous voices, great range, and an endearing jazz hands energy.

Maybe this is a British thing, but the upbeat can-do fame school exuberance is the worst of it. After the festival and a taste of off-Broadway, they return to ordinary life and something more interesting happens. They struggle. They pout. They bicker.

Suddenly, these varnished mannequins acquire a second dimension. Some of their singing becomes heartfelt, some of their plights seem grounded. The irksome sweetness becomes something more savoury, perhaps even bitter.

But if that also is too affected, you could slot your grouch into the umbrella stand, turn off your head and just enjoy the songs. There’s a bunch of styles, some swish choreography, some deft solos and arrangements. Many of the songs individually are exceptional, the lyrics clever and often catchy. The sentiment is wholesome, the energy lively, and you can admire their (fictional) pluck and (actual) craft.

There’s a number which has the (clunky) line “I’d rather be nine people’s favourite thing than a hundred people’s ninth favourite thing”. That captures the ambivalence, and maybe even courage, of this production.

[Title of Show] is about overthinking something to the point where the enjoyment fades. My bad.

SCISSORHANDZ

Southwark Playhouse Elephant

★★★

“The cast are superb across the board and there is an easy camaraderie that adds to the feelgood factor”

SCISSORHANDZ

Southwark Playhouse Elephant

Reviewed on 30th January 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Danny Kaan

Previously reviewed at Southwark Playhouse venues:

SCISSORHANDZ

SCISSORHANDZ

SCISSORHANDZ

[ TITLE OF SHOW ] at Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★

“you have to hand it to the four performers – they know how to deliver. All of them have solid pipes and their whip crack dialogue rattles along at pace”