Tall Stories know a thing or two about adapting Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffler’s books for the stage. This is their fourth one and there is a gentleness about their production – and a lovely sense of enfolding the young audience into the action – that does Donaldson’s mesmerising works great justice. The dramaturgy isn’t perfect (too much filler!) but this is my son Benji’s first visit to a proper theatre and, other than a few lapses in concentration, he has a wonderful time.
The director, Toby Mitchell, and the designer, Barney George, have pitched the atmosphere and visuals really well. The Smeds and the Smoos and their barmy planet is conjured up with a few choice props; a jaggedy jiggly plant here and a purple sprouting flower there. It is all very impressive, but never overwhelming. The use of narrators (Tom Capper is particularly engaging) helps to echo the intimacy of the bedtime story routine – only everything is just that bit bigger and brighter, with a few jolly songs thrown in for good measure.
After Smed Janet (an expressive Felicia Akin-Tayo) and Smoo Bill (a peppy Robert Penny) disappear, their two warring families set off in pursuit of the runaway lovebirds. The gang embark on an epic adventure through outer space but things are kept nicely low-key. The rocket is represented by a few cardboard cutouts; outer space by a smattering of twinkling stars. Yvonne Stone’s puppets do just enough to grab our attention without pushing too hard. There is a green and gooey-monster, a lumbering lurgle and some floating Gruffalo heads that very nearly steal the show.
It is just the script that slightly falters. Lots of ad-libs are threaded through the original text and they are not very helpful: they disrupt the rhythm and dilute Donaldson’s clever repetitions, which are so important in maintaining momentum. Jon Fiber and Andy Shaw’s songs are bright and lifting but the lyrics feel a little flat. The joy of The Smeds and the Smoos is largely to be found in the nonsense language, but all those wonderful new words (“the trockles grew tall/and the glompoms smelled good …”) are slightly lost in this thinner and overstretched script.
However, what’s lost in the language is made up for with lots of lovely visual gags. Benji looks as if he is about to explode with excitement as the Smeds carry out a very silly swimming routine and invite the audience to join in. There are also lots of nice little panto moments, as the children are encouraged to point and scream and generally let loose. Snacks are happily snacked on. Squeals are loudly squealed forth and there’s a general air of ease and engagement, which an awful lot of adult theatre would do well to learn from.
At Lyric theatre, London, until 3 September
