Tales of the Brothers Grimm review

With this smart, exuberant show directed by Joe Murphy, writer Hannah McPake throws famous folk tales into a meta melting-pot and blends them vigorously into a patriarchy-smashing brew. In Cardiff in 1913, Stevie is at odds with her committed suffragette mother, who has banned her from reading the Grimms’ tales, disapproving of the ‘happily-ever-afters’ to which her daughter aspires. A sprinkle of Christmas magic later, and the rebellious Stevie – played perfectly at the performance I attended by understudy and associate director Alice Eklund, script in hand – finds herself transported from the grey Victorian world of her bookbinder uncles’ regimented festivities to a fairytale forest. In this “Grimmdom”, she is aided and abetted by a charmingly boisterous narrator (Keiron Self) in her search for the Brothers Grimm, whom she wants to write her a story with her own happy ending. 

Their quest disrupts the fates of the famous fairytale characters they encounter. Cinderella’s shoe is smashed; Rapunzel’s hair is cut; Sleeping Beauty is awakened. In this musical fantasy world, each figure’s growing understanding of her discontent with her allotted storyline is accompanied by a belter of a song by composer Lucy Rivers, the different genres reflecting each singer’s identity. Most notably, Sleeping Beauty (played with panache by Bethzienna Williams) gets a blistering bluesy number.

The festive energy really ramps up after the interval, as we meet the sparkly lederhosen-clad Grimms, and some sisterly solidarity is forged. The boys aren’t left behind, though. Prince Charming finds support to return to his preferred form as a frog, and even the Brothers themselves – erstwhile story dictators and embodiers of the patriarchy – express their desire to retire.

Murphy’s production wrings every ounce of possibility from the premise. His direction is fleet-footed and polished, seamlessly blending festive frolics and pop sensibilities with serious mother-daughter drama and raw-edged political ideas to create an expansive, ebullient and coherent world.

Hayley Grindle’s design frames the stage several times over with colourfully lit concentric arches set at different angles, smartly suggesting reframing the characters’ destinies while adding razzle-dazzle. Christmas trees hang upside down in this playfully topsy-turvy world. Andy Pike’s lighting, Ian Barnard’s sound and musical direction by Barnaby Southgate do plenty of heavy lifting, too, delivering depth and polish.

The production’s audacity and ambition echoes the Snow Queen’s final call to action: played with intensity by writer McPake (who also takes the role of Stevie’s mum), she inspires Stevie to break free from expectations and strive for more, leaving audiences young and old with lots to unwrap.