Director: James Brining
Music: Marc Shaiman
Lyrics: Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman
Book: David Greig
Few stories in the modern canon evoke the same level of childlike escapism as Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Famously, the author hated the 1970 film adaptation, but the world loved it, and Gene Wilder’s sinister, crooning performance as Willy Wonka has shaped our collective vision of how that character should be portrayed. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory the Musical takes that movie as its core text using several of its songs and most of its narrative adaptations. It’s padded out with original songs by Hairspray composers Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman, and whilst the numbers tend to suffer by comparison, there are many moments of magic and innovation.
The first half of the musical locates us in the slums of Grimchester, a fictional suburb in Northern England. The set design is impressive. A vast heap of junk parts in the middle to reveal first a newsagent and then the dwelling of Charlie Bucket, her mum and her grandparents. Charlie tonight is played with gusto by Amelia Minto. The role on this tour is tackled by girls as well as boys, which works perfectly well, the gender neutrality of the name making the transition seamless.
As the world scours the sweet shop shelves for Wonka’s golden tickets, Charlie and her family look on from their impoverished environs, a raised bed shared by her four grandparents making up most of the set. The grandparents are an acerbic bunch who also happen to produce some beautiful harmonies when they break into song, which, set against sumptuous strings and woodwind, create a dreamy Disneyfied atmosphere.
As the quest for Wonka’s golden tickets gathers pace, the scene switches between the Buckets and two TV reporters breaking the news of the latest winners. Some of the junk bounding the stage lights up as televisions beam the news reports. The reporters sparkle as their antagonistic dynamic adds an extra slice of humour to the proceedings. The set changes here are swift and transporting as we’re swept into celebratory set pieces introducing each new horrid child and their horrid parents.
It’s not until the last scene of the first half that we meet Willy Wonka himself. Played with brash confidence and charm by Gareth Snook, it’s a performance that brings together elements of a number of charismatic villains or semi-villains: Rik Mayall’s Blackadder character, Lord Flashheart; Jeremy Iron’s Scar from The Lion King; and – especially in his opening number – Jack the Pumpkin King from Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas. He makes a wonderful Wonka. The sinister edge is not overdone, but there’s always the suggestion of a slightly unhinged mad genius that breaks through whenever he loses his patience with the misbehaving kids. His character is given the most scope for naturalism and comedy, and ironically we feel most aligned with this mysterious outsider, as he gleefully disposes of the grotesque representatives of the general public.
Where the first half impresses with set design, the second half, taking place inside the chocolate factory itself, relies more on visuals from a huge screen at the back of the stage and projections on the stage. These sometimes work to great effect, like the boat that takes them into the depths of the factory which sways dramatically as the lights give the effect of rushing movement whilst the song Pure Imagination from the movie takes on a threatening tone. Similarly, the river of chocolate that engulfs poor Augustus Gloop seems life-like as it spreads across the stage. Less convincing is The Chocolate Room itself which, seen merely as a projection, fails to create the wonder of entering a real landscape made entirely of sweets.
The Oompa Loompas in this production are silvery android people, making a very creepy impression on their first entrance like they are statues that have suddenly come to life. They are a judicious replacement for the dwarves ‘rescued’ from far-off lands in the original to come and work for Wonka, whilst retaining their disturbing roles of narrating the demises of the terrible children through song. There’s some fun theatrical magic utilised for the respective fates of the children too – an inflated Violet Beauregarde being bounced around like a basketball in a brightly projected court is a delicious highlight.
Perhaps the production suffers from being somewhere in the middle as an adaptation. If it were a completely original adaptation, that would have been something to admire, and an on-stage sing-along performance based around the film would have also been a glorious night out. As it is, though it’s a joyful, entertaining night out, it feels like a money-spinning mishmash of a musical.
Runs until 1 July 2023 and continues to tour.
The Reviews Hub Score
Moneyspinning musical mishmash
