“As snow cascades onto the audience, they eagerly wave to the snowman and dance in the aisles”
In Raymond Briggs’ popular Christmas classic, a young boy’s snowman comes to life on Christmas Eve. After tiptoeing around the house, midnight feasting and dressing up, James and The Snowman take off on a North Pole adventure. Birmingham Rep’s adaptation of Briggs’ book and Dianne Jackson’s film revives the festive fable with some welcome surprises. The addition of bad-guy, Jack Frost and an ice princess who dance the tango with the snowman may drift from the original story, but this can be excused as the light-hearted rendition captures the attention of the very young audience throughout, despite having no dialogue. Perhaps the most unexpected twist, a giant fruit limbo competition (why not, ay?) has the audience roaring with laughter.
Needless to say, the highpoint of the play is the timeless Walking in the Air flying sequence which ends the first act. It has all who are watching transfixed and brings a whimsical twist with the pair flying over seas, mountains, and a drunken brass band player. The charming dream scene which closes the second act captures the magic of the silent film with childhood innocence. Balletic woodland animals and prancing reindeers with highly detailed costumes create a picturesque wintry scene.
The stage design of Ruari Murchison plays a huge part in transporting the audience to a winter wonderland, with a snow-globe proscenium arch and an idyllic set. As snow cascades onto the audience, they eagerly wave to the snowman and dance in the aisles. The stage effects and lighting maintain the effect of snow fall throughout – a perfect setting for the enchanting choreography of Robert North. The famous score with music and lyrics by Howard Blake clearly inspires the gestures and movement. North makes ballet accessible to a new audience with his choreography, expertly performed by the Ice Princess and Jack Frost. Due respect must also be given to The Snowman (Martin Fenton) for fantastically leaping and pirouetting in a fluffy snowman suit. The young boy cast as James is a confident performer with excellent miming abilities.
Now in its 21st year at the Peacock Theatre, The Snowman is a nostalgia trip for parents and the perfect treat to kick-start the festive season for all the family.
“The evening is seemingly haphazard, yet you know it is welded with extreme precision”
There’s something refreshing about a pre-show announcement that gives the instruction: “please DO NOT switch off your mobile phones during this performance”. Indeed, photography and filming is encouraged, as is heckling and, of course, cheering. It is a taste of the perfectly choreographed anarchy that is to follow.
Cirque Berserk’s aim is to combine the centuries-old skills and traditions of the touring circus troupe with a contemporary approach to staging. The Big Top comes to the West End – a huge and diverse undertaking bringing together over thirty-five performers from as far afield as Kenya, Cuba, Mongolia, Brazil, Bulgaria, the Czech Republic, France and the UK. But these are not just skilled performers. They are characters too, which adds to the evening by shrouding the spectacle in sheer joyful theatricality.
It is a joy ride from start to finish. The talent on offer makes us forget the endless hard work and lifetime of practice that must go into such a production. Instead you just enjoy the adrenalin rush, sometimes missing a heart beat, sometimes discovering your haven’t breathed for a while. The Berserkers (as they call themselves) perform entirely without safety devices. You wonder, too, at the dexterity of the human form. How can mere mortals do this to themselves? The ‘Timbuktu Tumblers’ open the proceedings. The health and safety officials in the wings must be on constant high alert as the seemingly inflammable acrobats burn with more energy than the fire they play with. Swiftly followed by ‘Bolas Argentinas’ who use their bodies and some scary looking hunting weapons as a collective percussion instrument.
Odka, the “Lady from the Bottle” is just that. Apparently vacuum packed inside a tiny bell jar she emerges; a feat in itself, but she then uses her own feet to perform archery with a perfect aim while the rest of her body defies the laws of nature. Next up… I want to list them all but I realise I will have to limit myself. It is like being forced to admit to having a favourite child. But there are highlights; most notably Germaine Delbosq, the foot juggler and Toni the knife thrower, and the climactic ‘Globe of Death’. A melodramatic and arguably clichéd title, but a fitting finale. Mere description won’t do justice here – I’d urge anybody reading this to go and see Cirque Berserk for themselves.
There is an overriding cheekiness to the show; a cheekiness shared by ‘Tweedy’ the clown who threads the whole show together. His comic timing and interaction with the audience is matched by his inventive use of ladders, tightropes and bicycles.
The evening is seemingly haphazard, yet you know it is welded with extreme precision. Part of the enjoyment of acts like these is the vicarious sense of danger, and the concentration we are forced to share. The performers cannot afford to drift for one nano-second. Yet they make it look easy, fun, careless and chaotic.
