In her fresh version of the bridal fairytale, Annie Siddons mixes something old with something new. A magical dress, the midnight deadline and that missing shoe remain, but Siddons’ idiosyncratic adventure adds socialist politics, a contract killer and a 6,500-year-old badger goddess.
We’re accustomed now to seeing more independent Cinderellas but they seldom seem less bothered about the ball. Our straight-talking heroine (Áine O’Neill-Mason, in an assured professional debut) can’t be fussed with “all that hoo-ha” and – most unusually – mainly goes along to see her dad (Nicholas Shaw). Siddons has let the father live, given the stepmother (Shelley Atkinson) a dead ex and made the prince (Jason Yeboa) the scion of a nascent railway baron (Jonathan Markwood).
A forest of Christmas trees surrounds a tilted ring-shaped walkway on Kevin Jenkins’ attractive rustic set, evoking Derbyshire in the 1840s and matching the joy that Gabriella – dissed as Cinders by her stepsisters – takes in the beauty of simple things. A clockface hangs upstage, hands regularly spinning backwards and forwards to no great effect, but Siddons also observes the region’s horological heritage by making Gabriella’s dad a clockmaker, who goes to find work on the railway.
That leaves her at the mercy of stepsisters Lavinia, who shifts awkwardly from haughty to murderous, and Ottilie, an amusingly morbid nu-goth with a soft heart and a few too many punchlines about her predilection for ravens. They are played well by, respectively, Roxana Bartle and Charlotte Rutherfoord, actor-musicians who wield stringed instruments like weapons of torture, akin to the witches in the Watermill theatre’s Macbeth.
The compositions by former Eurovision contestant SuRie bring a sylvan atmosphere, if not quite enough character and humour. Bryn Holding’s lively production for over-sevens does not always extract the full eccentricity of Siddons’ script, which is observant on class and social injustice but gets a bit bogged down after the interval.
John Barber’s puppets include a feisty cat (controlled by Purvi Parmar, also likable as the prince’s aide) and a plaintive badger, rescued by Gabriella. A resplendent wicker head is sported by the grateful badger goddess, played by an impressive Atkinson, whose industriousness in multiple roles reflects a script that is keenly aware of hard work. It’s a pick-me-up herbal potion that the knackered Gabriella most needs to get to the ball.
A greater parallel could be drawn between her and the downtrodden sooty train workers, but this is a hearty show – including a spirited young community cast – which, most unseasonably, even finds romance in the prospect of rail travel.
At Derby theatre until 31 December
