Colourful, playful and packed with clever theatrical ideas
There have been countless versions of Alice in Wonderland, but this lively production at Riverside Studios still manages to make Lewis Carroll’s familiar story feel fresh. Colourful, playful and packed with clever theatrical ideas, it invites us down the rabbit hole without relying on expensive technology or overcomplicated effects.
Adapted by Penny Farrow and directed and designed by Nate Bertone, the production embraces the story’s chaotic structure. Wonderland is not supposed to make perfect sense, after all. Scenes appear and disappear like fragments of a particularly strange dream, with Alice hurried from one ridiculous encounter to another before she has time to work out what is happening.
Bertone’s beautiful set is central to the illusion. At first, it looks like a slightly enchanted garden, but its curved design and narrowing perspective soon reveal the suggestion of a giant tunnel. When Alice falls down the rabbit hole, enormous books, clocks, cups and other objects seem to tumble alongside her. The effect is surprisingly convincing and achieved through proper old-fashioned stagecraft.
The production is equally inventive when showing Alice shrinking and growing. Different-sized props alter our sense of scale, while the “Drink Me” bottle becomes increasingly enormous as Alice becomes smaller. Stretchy playing cards expand and contract, furniture suddenly towers above her, and the performers constantly reshape the space. Children can enjoy the magic while adults appreciate the ingenuity behind it.
Ailsa Erskine is a warm and engaging Alice, balancing curiosity with just enough impatience at the nonsense surrounding her. Six of the performers regularly become a kind of narrator-chorus, moving between storytelling, puppetry, ensemble work and individual characters. Their spoken narration keeps the plot clear without interrupting its dreamlike quality, while Clare Brice’s breathless White Rabbit provides a thread through Alice’s increasingly bizarre adventure.
The puppetry is charming throughout. The illuminated Cheshire Cat has a wonderfully smug presence, while the tiny Dormouse earns some of the afternoon’s biggest reactions. Sophie Wilkinson and Skye Hallam are great fun as Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee, throwing themselves into the characters’ silliness.
The comic highlight, however, is Daniel Page’s Queen of Hearts. Page gives us proper panto fun: outrageously dramatic, gloriously bossy and always ready to turn the smallest inconvenience into a national emergency. His impressive vocal range allows the Queen to jump from a threatening growl to a piercing shriek and then into sudden, wounded sweetness. Even a pause or suspicious glance becomes a joke. He plays directly to the audience without overpowering the story, making the Queen ridiculous, unpredictable and just intimidating enough.
Sam Rapley’s music and Ella Wahlström’s sound design keep the production moving through its many transformations. Although the tea party slightly tests its welcome, the show soon finds its pace again.
Bright, funny and beautifully made, this is imaginative family theatre with real charm — and enough glorious nonsense for audiences of every size.