Writer: Sonia Jalaly
Director: Nicholai La Barrie
One of the great joys of the Lyric panto is its tendency to blend magical song-and-dance spectaculars with satirical, modern and hyper-local elements. The initial backdrop for this year’s toe-tapping Jack and the Beanstalk shows the nearby tube station, Primark, the theatres, the roads and a sinister-looking head with a gaping mouth labelled Fleshcreep Academy. Jade Hackett, as the entertaining Fairy Godfather-turned-Drama Teacher, is determined not to let the children of Hammersmith have their imaginations crushed by this joyless new institution. The resulting show is a bit blander than it could be, less overtly political and less obviously rooted in a specific place, but it’s chock-full of brilliantly-staged fun, classic panto moments, and outstanding choreography.
The school’s villainous headmaster is evil Fleshcreep, a meat-eating Trunchball-meets-Trump-meets-Tiger King baddie in salami-patterned suit and red rubber gloves, played with demonic glee by former EastEnders star John Partridge. Pitted against his evil plans are X-Factor finalist Joey James as Jack and star-in-the-making Sienna Widd as big sister Jill. Respectively vulnerable and pert, their relationship as siblings is the show’s emotional heart.
The Lyric also has a grand tradition, now well into its second decade, of subverting the traditional roles and expectations of Panto. In this version of the story, rebellious Jill is every bit as much the hero as her introverted brother with his imaginary glove-puppet friend SockFace. And the fairy-tale magic is less about otherworldly wizardry and more about self-belief and being empowered to discover your inner strength. He might be a shy kid who speaks through a sock puppet, but he sings like an angel and can step up when he needs to – with a bit of coaxing from his sister.
A light-footed ensemble in school uniform sings and dances its way through several foot-stomping numbers with power and precision thanks to choreographer Kayla Lomas-Kirton. There’s an innovative set from designer Georgia Lowe involving various steampunk machines and old school desks. Jack and Jill’s flamboyant mother, Mamma Trott (a RuPaul-worthy Sam Harrison), is the pantomime dame and new dinner lady at Fleshcreep Academy. Lowe dresses her in a series of extravagant costumes: layers of chiffon, feather boas, enormous curlers, tassels, fishnets, animal prints, sequinned swimwear. (“Your mum thinks GCSE stands for “Get Cute Slay Everything”). The lively lighting from Matt Haskins gives the whole stage a technicolour, disco glamour.
This year’s writer and director also created the Lyric’s 2024 crowd-pleasing Aladdin. Sonia Jalaly’s busy script leans a little too heavily on kids’ film clichés like “remember what we’re fighting for”, “there’s nothing more magical than a child’s imagination”. It also lacks narrative drive and continuity, but the stars do their best to keep up the momentum, and Nicholai La Barrie’s direction is pacy, even frenetic. Jalaly’s topical touches are broad-brush: Fleshcreep briefly appears in a red MEGA (Make Education Great Again) cap, insisting “I’m way smarter than you”. In a punchy song about Revolution that kicks off the second half, there are lines like: “You might just be a Greta T in the making”.
The beautifully-performed songs are mostly re-purposed covers, and new lyrics are sometimes inaudible, but there are standout moments. There’s a visit from four clipboard-wielding inspectors for a song whose chorus is “Give it to me, Ofsted” and the distinctive White Stripes’ Seven Nation Army riff (beloved of football and Corbyn fans) becomes a catchy “Hey, Jack and the Beanstalk”. There are four fabulous live musicians, guitarists with some drums and keyboard. Composer and Arranger Corin Buckeridge has a gift for foot-stomping medleys, and Adam Gerber’s musical direction is energetic and versatile.
There’s audience participation, of course, with some kids invited up to play a game and groups from the audience singled out and celebrated. Pantomime audiences are overwhelmingly families, particularly with young kids. There is plenty of panto-style innuendo, mainly via Mamma Trott, to keep parents entertained and street-smart references (Six-Seven, Squid Game) for the school groups. For younger watchers, there are puppets, slapstick, colour, music and a few slightly contrived “Behind you!” sequences.
The show’s ultimate message of self-expression (appropriating KPop Demon Hunters’ “No more hiding, I’ll be shining like I’m born to be”) is anodyne, but upbeat. Feelgood panto is a powerful tradition for lightening the darkest months of the year, and it’s needed now more than ever. As Mamma Trott says towards the end, it’s nice to pretend for once that “there isn’t an absolute apocalypse happening in the real world”.
Runs until 4 Jan 2026
