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Show: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe
Society: New Wimbledon Theatre (professional)
Venue: New Wimbledon Theatre. 93 The Broadway, Wimbledon, London SW19 1QG
Credits: By C.S. Lewis. Elliott & Harper Productions and Catherine Schreiber present the Leeds Playhouse production
Type: Sardines
Performance Date: 12/04/2022
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe
Chris Jared (Aslan) – The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe Photo: Brinkhoff Moegenburg
It must have been a daunting task, to take a work as deeply contemplative and philosphical as The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and transfer it to the stage, making it visual and musical as well as accessible to children from 6 upwards (which is arguably much younger than most children might be encouraged to pick up the book). There is so much in the novel, and so much of it goes to the fundamental questions of life and faith, that to do it justice in a single evening’s show, in a hige undertaking. Indeed, in his director’s notes, Michael Fentiman says that what he is hoping to do is to “plant a seed of a world in the audience’s mind, rather than painting the entire picture.” This he achieves: in fact, the seeds of both the worlds he plants – the rainy, confusing and slightly ecccentric Scotland of the 1940s and Narnia itself – are compelling and convincing in their own ways.
I am reliably informed that the production involves three pantechnicons of set and takes two days to get into the theatre. This is a huge challenge for a touring production, but well worth it – the set and the effects are absolutely jawdropping. A lamp post that emerges from a piano, a White Witch’s sledge, for example, that allows her to glide, to fly and to dominate the stage completely, and the use of white drapes as her skirt, as well as to provide rooms in houses and burrows, are both simple and genius. They also allow for incredibly smooth transitions and almost magical scene changes, so the action flows seamlessly from section to section and the audience is never released from the show’s thrall. There are countless other effects that work beautifully well: the evacuees’ suitcases becoming the train itself, the station clock becoming the Narnian moon as well as Mr Beaver’s burrow window, the wardrobe, both as a seemingly solid piece of furniture and as spinning, freestanding doors during the transitions from one world to the next.
The ensemble features more prominently here than in some other productions, not least because many of them are talented actor/musicians. Their choreography – whether as a group of train passengers, the Winter King’s reindeer or the Beavers’ resistance force – is flawless. As character roles, they are irresistible: Michael Ahomka-Lindsay’s Maugrim is terrifying, Oliver Grant’s Head Cruel is hilarious and Sam Buttery and Christina Tedders’ Mr and Mrs Beaver are delightful. And the music is haunting and beautiful: a mixture of folk, prog, anthem and festival.
The puppets are beautifully done – Aslan is, of course, the most striking and deservedly so, but Schrodinger the cat, the robin and Turkish Delight Monster also deserve special mention. The puppets work in harmony with the human (and animal!) actors and contribute greatly to the sense of magic and otherworldliness. Chris Jared’s human part of Aslan has the look of Thorin Oakenshield about him. He draws on both his own hefty experience with the RSC and the weight of embodying the returning saviour to portray an Aslan who makes hearts sing and tears flow at his sacrifice.
I am always nervous about whether a “name” from Soapland, used to doing smallscale, close-up acting, can provide the presence needed when transferring to the stage. This is particularly true here, where Samantha Womack has to both terrify and charm in her first interaction with Edmund if she is to turn him against his siblings. Womack starts well, aided by her props and stunning costume, and her flash of temper when Edmund demands more Turkish Delight is believable. From then on, I am going to err on the side of caution and say that the gradual diminishing of the White Witch’s power over the course of the play may be a directorial choice – as her costumes shrink to almost normal daywear proportions by the time of the battle, so her grip over Narnia loosens and she becomes more petulant than frightening. I have to be honest and say that, from my understanding of the book, Womack’s White Witch surrenders her power too quickly and too easily to the returned Aslan – I want to feel that the final battle is a contest to the death that could go either way, but this feels like a foregone conclusion. Perhaps seeing more of the battle itself between Good and Evil would have helped – I wonder whether the creative geniuses could do something with light projection of puppet shadows behind the swordplay between the main characters, using the silhouettes they have already created, to give a sense of a much wider battle. I should also add that I prefer Womack as her doubled character of Mrs Macready – humour and sternness well-paired.
The heart of the cast lies with the Pevensie children, of course, and their relationships as siblings: their squabbles, their worries, their resentments of each other and their all-pervasive love for each other. They form a core ensemble of their own and we have to believe that they could, indeed, be the Kings and Queens that Narnia has waited a century for. These four young actors rise admirably to the task, complementing each other to personify the best – and worst – of humanity, just as C.S. Lewis intended.
A beautiful production, stunningly executed and one that I hope the children in the audience will remember long enough to be drawn to the books.