The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe review

Following a national tour, this reinvention of Sally Cookson’s 2017 Leeds Playhouse production (by new director Michael Fentiman) arrives in the West End to bring some welcome winter chill to this hottest of summers. 

Perhaps due to the change in principal creatives – designer Tom Paris has taken over from Rae Smith – the production feels somewhat disjointed, as if it’s trying to be a wild celebration of the magic of theatre imagined by Cookson and a slick family musical at the same time. But there’s no denying its charm – with a company of actor-musicians and puppeteers providing an artful, homespun vibe that feels wholly suitable for CS Lewis’ ode to the power of childhood imagination.

Samantha Womack now plays the White Witch, and her entrance has the requisite feeling of spine-tingling thrill as she swoops towards Edmund on a kind of steampunk gun carriage. This war motif is strong throughout, from the opening rendition of We’ll Meet Again as the evacuee Pevensie siblings head for Professor Kirk’s Scottish pile, to the climactic battle of Aslan and the Witch, where the children must emulate their father fighting on the frontline. 

The stage is dominated by a large clock face that emphasises the story’s obsession with time and also serves as a focal point of dramatic reveals, notably when Aslan (Chris Jared – who acts in tandem with a giant puppet lion) is resurrected after his sacrifice on the stone table. It’s just one of several gasp-inducing moments. Toby Olié and Max Humphries’ puppets are superb (hat tip to the scene-stealing cat), as are the illusions and magic from Chris Fisher, who can make anything from Turkish delight to corpses vanish in an instant. 

Benji Bower and Barnaby Race’s music shows a heavy folk influence, particularly the joyous jig that rounds out the evening. There’s also some wonderfully haunting cello. Some numbers, though, feel more perfunctory, such as an extended song about gift giving by Santa Claus when he pops up to distribute the children’s weaponry (although, admittedly, this should feel more cheering come December). 

The production does feel tonally divided, as if it can’t quite decide whether it’s a Vera Lynn-singing nostalgic ode or a radical interpretation that recasts the Narnian resistance as climate activists. But, overall, it does a good job of telling the story with clarity and evoking the world of Narnia with style. The performances are also impressive given their multi-roling nature (even Womack doubles as housekeeper Mrs Macready), and having the Pevensie children being played by (excellent) young Black actors is a welcome update. 

Although some of its quirkier edges may have been knocked off, as a first introduction to a children’s classic, or a treat for a young bookworm, it’s hard to beat.