“A story that makes kids (and, adults too) feel seen, heard, and ready to spread their wings.”
“I wanna be one of them!” That’s the thought bouncing around my brain at intermission. Sitting in the audience, I wonder if I’m even qualified to review a children’s show—but hey, if a grown adult can have this much fun, that’s got to count for something, right?
The Boy with Wings, adapted from Lenny Henry’s beloved children’s book, soars onto the stage with heart, humor, and a whole lot of magic. We follow 12-year-old Tunde (a brilliant Adiel Boboye), a kid weighed down by nightmares, schoolyard bullies, and the mysterious absence of his father. But through his journey, we meet the people who shape his world: his fiercely protective mom, his ride-or-die friends Kylie (Millie Elkins-Green) and Dev (Samir Mahat), and a mysterious, rhyme-spouting cat (yes, really). It’s a story about a kid finding himself—his identity, his courage, his people, with the help of friends, family, and even people who he doesn’t know.
Under Daniel Bailey’s direction, the storytelling is crisp, engaging, and yet deeply relevant. One highlight includes the electric dynamic between Tunde and his mom, Ruth (Mia Jerome). Mia doesn’t just play a worried parent—she brings humor, warmth, and a touch of delightful chaos to the role, making Ruth feel real, relatable, and utterly captivating. Then there’s Jessica Murrain as Juba the cat, a performance so physically precise and poetically charged. She delivers every line with crackling energy and lyrical flair, breathing such vivid life into the character that you can’t help but be mesmerized. She’s not just an actor, but a storyteller who commands the stage. And there’s also the trio of young friends—Tunde, Kylie, and Dev—whose chemistry crackles with authenticity, making their bond as believable as it is moving.
But the magic isn’t just in the performances. The production pulses with life—thanks to Gillian Tan’s transformative lighting and video design, which turn the stage into a playground of imagination. Khalil Madovi’s soundscape and music tie it all together, wrapping the audience in a world that’s vibrant, immersive, and downright cool. What truly makes this production sing is how it roots Tunde’s story in the rich soil of Black British culture. The lines pulses with grime-inflected beats and playful rap verses, while the children’s graffiti-tagged playground transforms the stage into a living community space of those down-to-earth characters. It’s an invitation for the audience to understand a childhood that might be different from the mainstream white culture. The production walks that delicate line beautifully – specific enough to feel authentic, universal enough to resonate with anyone who’s ever felt like an outsider finding their tribe.
This show is a celebration—a mostly POC cast and crew owning their excellence in an industry that still has miles to go. It’s a story that makes kids (and, adults too) feel seen, heard, and ready to spread their wings.

