★★★★

“playful, spectacular and touching”

One Christmas Eve, a young boy’s snowman comes to life and takes him on a journey to the North Pole. The Snowman is a transfixing dance show for all ages in celebration of visual storytelling and Christmas enchantment. In its 27th festive season at the Peacock Theatre, Birmingham Rep’s iconic Christmas show continues to awake childhood nostalgia and childlike wonder.

Take caution. You will have the feature song ‘Walking In The Air’ (Howard Blake) stuck in your head, but the kids love it and so will you! Have a mulled wine and tis the season.

Based on the book by Raymond Briggs and its 1982 film adaptation directed by Dianne Jackson, this performance uses clowning, masks, and ballet to bring the storybook adventure to life. Curtain up and we are introduced to a young boy who wakes up to the joyful discovery that it has snowed. He races outside to build a snowman where he is joined by processions of Christmas carollers and teenagers having snowball fights. This constant flow of familiar characters across the stage makes the world feel ‘real’ at the very top of the show, thus making the gradual reveal of ‘magic’ even more immersive.

The ballet is gorgeous (Robert North) and even more impressive when performed by dancers in giant animal costumes with crafted heads (Robert Allsop) reminding us of Disneyland characters. However, if you are afraid of clowns this might be one to skip. As the snowman is completed and comes to life, his stiff smile and black holes for eyes is slightly creepy. The continuous giggling of kids in the audience may say otherwise. Despite the mask, the snowman’s physicality presents him as a dumb but lovable animation sidekick. He moves with steady and heavy steps, acts the fool, makes fumbles but indulges the young boy’s requests – even stealing a motorcycle. He is Winnie-the-Pooh as a dancing snowman.

Ruari Murchison’s concave design of the stage’s proscenium frame reminds us of the Looney Tunes “That’s All Folks” closing screen, reinforcing the episodic structure of the performance. Each scene holds its own space as a sketch or cartoon which at times quickly overlap for a smooth transition, keeping you (and the kids) spellbound throughout the performance.

It is clear that under the superb direction of Bill Alexander, Birmingham Rep really took their time exploring how to best reimagine iconic moments from the 1982 film to the stage. A standout moment is the scene where the snowman discovers the light switch in the kitchen. Here, a five second moment in the film is transformed into a one-minute comedic transition between scenes that sees the snowman dancing to strobing lights. When we reach the North Pole, the stage adaptation delivers surprises to expand the story from the film. Not only do we meet Father Christmas, his reindeer and other enchanted snowmen, but also a snow queen and a mysterious deviant who might not be a friend to our darling snowman. A welcome pantomime twist that promises some laughs and suspense.

The stage version of The Snowman captures the essence of the animated film whilst making room for comedy, dance and story development with the addition of characters we recognise from other beloved Christmas tales or our own lives. At times playful, spectacular and touching, we are transported to a world that feels both familiar and wonderstruck. The Snowman is magic.

THE CABINET MINISTER at the Menier Chocolate Factory

★★★★

“a lavish excursion into genteel decadence, handsomely mounted and delivered with flair.”

The Twombleys’ London townhouse could pass as a railway tearoom such is the scale of arrivals and departures in Nancy Carroll’s perky interpretation of Arthur Wing Pinero’s family farce.

Designer Janet Bird’s sumptuous Victorian set works wonders on the Menier’s compact stage. She creates more marvels – and thankfully more space – in Act Two’s re-creation of Drumdurris Castle, a transformation that won interval applause.

Costumes, too, are charming and elegant, unlike the inner workings of the strife-torn Twombleys who are facing a blizzard of debts and bills. Head of the household Sir Julian, the Cabinet Minister of the title, is also on the verge of resignation and disgrace following accusations of “accepting favours” in the bear pit of Westminster. No change there then.

Although the play’s promise is of political satire, it is matters of heart and purse that occupy a giddy procession of plots and subplots. The motive is money and marriage, the latter invariably facilitating the former.

Consequently, Nicholas Rowe, as Sir Julian, appears somewhat lost amid the sugar-rush garrulousness of the very modern ladies working hard to make ends – and couples – meet.

More dynamic and focused is his wife, former farmgirl Kitty Twombley, who is forever in a whirl, heading off financial calamity and protecting her brood with nefarious schemes. The talented Nancy Carroll, who also adapted the play, ensures her dazzling Kitty-with-claws is the multi-faceted fulcrum of this dizzying merry-go-round.

“It is fun and it is funny”

In an ensemble cast without notable flaws, special mention must go to Dillie Kean’s decrepit Lady Macphail. Her phlegmy Scottish brogue amusingly evokes the misty mountains, majestic pines and haunting pipes of her homeland. These sentimental interludes are in comedic contrast to the gnomic utterances of her awkward son Sir Colin (Matthew Woodyatt) who, commendably and in contrast to the general fevered tone, “refuses to fill the silence with bluster”.

Because much of the play’s frantic delight is to be found in baroque circumlocutions, leavened with sly quips, vegetable gags and double entendres constructed to land comfortably on the modern ear without entirely losing the spirit of the 1890 original. It is fun and it is funny.

Elsewhere Sara Crowe’s stately matchmaker Dora indulges in “practical interference” while Phoebe Fildes and Laurence Ubong Williams bring a touch of skulduggery and sharp practice as the blackmailing Lacklustre siblings, chancers on the make.

Director Paul Foster keeps the action tight, the lines crisp and the pacing modern, although he is forever combatting the grating anachronisms of class and entitlement (presumably the reason behind the addition of an unnecessary coda).

The 12-strong cast seem to delight in each other’s excellent work and there’s an anarchic energy which, although occasionally threatening to overwhelm the piece, ultimately finds a resolution to match its promise.

The Cabinet Minister is a lavish excursion into genteel decadence, handsomely mounted and delivered with flair.

THE SNOWMAN at the Peacock Theatre

★★★★

“playful, spectacular and touching”

THE SNOWMAN at the Peacock Theatre

Reviewed on 23rd November 2024

by Lara van Huyssteen

Photography by Tristram Kenton

Previously reviewed at Sadler’s Wells venues:

THE SNOWMAN

THE SNOWMAN

THE CABINET MINISTER at the Menier Chocolate Factory

★★★★

“a lavish excursion into genteel decadence, handsomely mounted and delivered with flair.”

“It is fun and it is funny”

THE CABINET MINISTER at the Menier Chocolate Factory

Reviewed on 28th September 2024

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Tristram Kenton

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE CABINET MINISTER

THE CABINET MINISTER