I’m not a reviewer who would ever pretend to be very well-read. So, I can’t say I’ve read Neil Gaiman’s novel. I can’t even say I’d heard of him. But one of my all-time favourite films is Stardust: I believe it to be, quite frankly, sensational. Now I didn’t know this, but it’s based on a book of the same name by none other than… Neil Gaiman. He also wrote ‘American Gods: that’s now a TV show that my mum obsessed about. What I’m trying to say is the man’s obviously got form and I’m hyper aware that I am very, very late to the party. So late, in fact, I’m surprised I am allowed access!.
The Nottingham Theatre Royal is absolutely packed. When I arrive, the queue to the ladies toilet is already substantial; women alive with the buzz of anticipation and chatter about a show everyone seemed unable to contain their excitement about. I have a feeling I am about to hop aboard an imagination I probably won’t want to hop off. So, although I’m not able to compare this production to the original book for you, surely there’s something to be said for seeing this without any expectations or pre-conceived ideas? I can at least try and convey to you how its managing to hijack every single heart in here tonight and leave us spellbound at what some thoroughly talented people are capable of. Anyway, this time tomorrow I’ll have had the book delivered to me through Amazon – I’ve just placed my order.
Ironically, this opal-black fantasy begins staunched within the bleak greys of a harsh reality. We witness a man returning to his childhood home after the death of his father. This is beautifully depicted by the ensemble and essential brilliance of set designer, Fly Davis. After the funeral, the man finds himself drawn to a neighbouring farm- more specifically a pond within its grounds. There he comes across the eccentric and gifted Old Mrs Hempstock, grandmother of a girl, Lettie, who he met in 1982 when he was 12. His begins to remember the pond described to him by Lettie as an ocean, and from therein, how she helped save him from an unyielding out of control Catherine Wheel of horror, magic, malevolence and wonder. The two must fight to keep whatever sinister beings lurk on the other side of the ocean from breaching the boundary; crossing over to tear his family apart – namely the wicked Ursula/ Skarthach who covets his fractured home now his mother has died. With the help of Lettie’s mum, Ginnie, and Grandmother, a genuinely moving and turbulent story unfolds with twists and turns aplenty.
One question circles my mind repeatedly as I watch this show: How. Do. People. Come. Up. With. This?? Every single member of the audience is sitting in awe. Adapted by playwright, Joel Horwood, Katy Rudd’s production is flawless from beginning to end. And what a huge responsibility everyone must have felt to translate this thought-provoking story to the stage. Reading a previous synopsis, I admit I did wonder whether the execution would be absorbed well enough for us to understand everything that’s going on. But the story telling is seamless; fluid and creative; every scene is entrenched with light and shade. I marvel that there isn’t one weak link and… of course! I understand it! Every aspect and feature must be as fabulous and impactful as the next. There can be no dips or troughs – the story has none. Visually, I have to say it’s the most impressive, astounding production I’ve ever seen, conjuring so much thrill, feeling and investment. Watching it I can’t imagine anything can divert my attention for even a third of a second. I can’t take my eyes of it because I’ll just miss something exquisite – I know I will.
This performance is accomplished by talent I could only scarcely imagine having. The Costume & Puppet Design (Samuel Wyer) Magic & Illusions Director & Designer (Jamie Harrison) and Puppetry (Finn Caldwell) are innovative and spectacular. Their combined talents culminate in a phenomenal vision and creativity lifting the story to a dimension I wouldn’t have ever contemplated before. The puppetry, especially, when the boy and Hettie are submerged in the ocean, is awe inspiring and genuinely reduced many of us to tears. Just ingenious. Steven Hoggett the movement director seems to have considered every bone, muscle and limb on stage; each scene meticulously crafted and delicately executed, resulting in a punch to the stomach and a lift to the soul. The scene where lovely Lettie fights the formidable Ursula (in her monstrous form as Skarthach) is like watching a cinematic good vs evil fight scene. Powerful and earthy, the music is emotive and, for me, resembles the score of ‘Stranger Things’.
The bass sound is guttural, reverberating around our frames and shaking them to the core. Composer, Jherek Bischoff, Lighting Designer, Paule Constable, and Sound Designer, Ian Dickinson, have curated effects that flood your body with beauty and wonder. There’s nothing contrived here or shamelessly trying to pull on your heartstrings. This just rips them out and has them dangling in front of us like our own puppets.
The stage is manipulated by the wonderful Designer, Fly Davis; bending and morphing like a dream, its complimented by the ensemble who are the biggest surprise for me tonight: dressed simply in black, they not only move the set and props – they are the props – entrenched in the story, assisting the illusion and imagery. Their influence and lingering presence often denote the malevolence and eeriness that’s taking place. Who’s side are they on? Who knows? They hang around, indicating something bad is about to happen and wielding their own dark beauty.
Our main protagonist, the unnamed boy, is played breathtakingly well by Keir Ogilvy. With so much movement and stamina his performance is honed and searing. He, both as a young boy and an adult, along with his Dad and Sis, have no names. Perhaps I’ll understand better after reading the book, but I feel (although a family clearly injured from the loss of their mother) knowing them only as their respective relations means they are very much a unit that need to be kept together despite their initial dysfunction. Although Dad, played wonderfully with robust compassion by Trevor Cox, speaks to his sensitive son in a way that makes me wince with sadness, he references his own abusive childhood and reluctance to make the same mistakes, which, only by Cox’s nuanced performance, conveys the imploding world he’s suffering himself.
Charlie Brooks is enthralling as the horrific Ursula – an evil monster who’s managed to travel through to the boy by a worm hole, iced with a perfect smile and platinum hair. She shifts effortlessly between the new ‘easy breezy’ lodger Dad has allowed to infiltrate the family home, to being the boy’s great tormentor. Her offerings of money, materials and motherhood don’t entice the boy; he’s been shown her hellish nature and is ostracised as punishment for trying to show his family what she desperately tries to conceal and swallow down.
Millie Hikasa’s Lettie could easily verge on the annoying, and perhaps in any other actor’s hands, she would be. But Hikasa is fearless and utterly adorable as the brave, gregarious, but equally mysterious junior of the Hempstock trio. She has a unique way of looking at life and is inspiring and feisty. But just how young is she? The mystery of this small three generation family seems to be as sacred as the ocean they protect; their farm seems to be entwined with billions of strands of time and memories.
Kemi-Bo Jacobs as Lettie’s mum, Ginnie, is commanding but kind. Fiercely protective and powerful herself, she, like Old Mrs Hemstock (sublimely played by Finty Williams) are committed protectors of their world and through the subtleties and subtext, we know the boy will be safe with their guidance.
Sis is played with perfect brattish innocence by Laurie Ogden. Sis exhibits behaviour that obviously craves a mother, a hole Ursula is only too happy and capable of taking advantage of.
We leave the theatre after a standing ovation; grateful for Gaiman’s imagination and storytelling, and for the people who are responsible for this evening of pure theatre. As I leave I’m now contemplating the themes, and how essentially, it’s about a fractured family and the grotesque things we invite if there’s a hole in our lives big enough for them to reach through. I certainly have a hole in my heart now, but one that only this story can fill. And it feels as big as the ocean.
