PETER PAN at the National Theatre: Flying Blind....

Nearly twenty years ago the National Theatre staged a production of PETER PAN at the Olivier Theatre directed by John Caird as their Christmas show.  It was a full-on "bells and smells" production with lavish sets, lengthy running time and star names like Ian McKellen as Captain Hook and Jenny Agutter as Mrs Darling to buttress the relatively unknown Daniel Evans as Peter.

And now it's back in a new co-production with Bristol Old Vic.  I wish I had a better experience with it but it was a long slog, especially the first act.   Yes they fly... but the show is preciously short on wonder.  To be honest I had only booked as Sophie Thompson was due to play Mrs Darling / Captain Hook but she injured her wrist in rehearsals and pulled out.  Thank you for that Sophie *glares*

My heart sank when I realized that Paul Hilton (Peter Pan), Anna Francolini (Mrs Darling/Captain Hook) and Lois Chimimba (Tiger Lily) had all played star roles in the National Theatre's Xmas shitefest in 2015 WONDER.LAND, the absolute nadir in theatregoing. But here they were being directed by Sally Cookson who was responsible for the NT's 2014 Xmas show TREASURE ISLAND - again here we have her shtick of having non-traditionalist casting.

What was so depressing particularly about the first half was the grinding inevitability of the bete noir of my theatre-going this year - the absurd 'poor theatre' trops that flag that the production you see has the taint of Director Concept Theatre.  Teeth-grindingly over-played comedy roles such as Felix Hayes as Mr Darling and Ahamed Saikat as a gibberish, loutish Tinkerbell (both acting as if he is playing to an audience of retarded 4 year-olds), a woeful music score and, the ultimate banal artistic choice, filling the big bare stage with bits of old wood, corrugated iron and old carpet to turn into scenery and have moth-eaten woollen jumpers and bobble-hats donned as costumes.

It's so redundant as a stylistic choice and here is the real kick in the soft parts - all these faux-poor theatre trappings - and my ticket cost £52.  I really have no idea where that money went, it certainly was not reflected in the production.  It is the banal thought processes that have reached their laughable limit in the debacle of Emma Rice's sanctioned performances at the Globe this year.  They are trumpeted as 'magical' but they haven't the slightest shred of magic about them.  Let alone humour...

But even the lumpen thud of an ugly production cannot stand in the way of J.M. Barrie's story of the boy who wouldn't grow up and as the second half is pure plot it thundered along giving Hilton as Peter and Madeleine Worrall as Wendy real chances to shine, particularly in the final scene when Barrie highlights the inherent sadness of Peter's remaining forever outside of life and Wendy's in moving away forever from her childhood.  Anna Francolini was okay as Mrs Darling but made hardly any impression as Captain Hook, the NT keep trying to push her as a lead actress in these shows but to paraphrase my dear friend Andrew "as long as she's got a hole in her arse she'll always be supporting".  She simply doesn't have the star wattage for lead roles.

I first saw a production of PETER PAN onstage in 1969 - a mere babe in arms - at the New Victoria Theatre which featured Hayley Mills as Peter (in her UK stage debut) and Bill Travers as Captain Hook, I suspect in true JM Barrie fashion I am still pining for that more innocent show...

PETER PAN: Welsh National Opera murder The Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up

Every so often I see a production that reminds me that it is all a crapshoot.  You blow on the dice and give them a shake, throw them and see what comes out.

Last week I blew on the dice and gave them a shake = I went to the theatre and sat down
I threw them = the lights went down and the curtain went up
and saw what came out = watched in horror as a shiteous opera of PETER PAN took place.

I will name the guilty: Richard Ayres provided the bizarre, vaguely dissonant score while Lavinia Greenlaw provided the arid libretto and lyrics and the show was directed by Keith Warner in a breathtakingly cack-handed way.  It made me so angry I couldn't even sleep through it... just stare at it as if it had dropped off the ceiling.

It was a production without the slightest glimmer of wonder or magic, squashed onto an ugly set of two tunnels linked by a semi-circle of railway track which every so often will be used to send something along the track, most notably when the Darling children fly off to Neverland.

At the very end of the production, a train rolls along the tracks.  I can only presume it's a reference to Peter Llewellyn-Davies, one of the three little brothers who so enchanted J.M. Barrie, who threw himself in front of one at Sloane Square Station in 1960 aged only 63.  I can only surmise he saw an early version of this load of old cock.

Yes the real life story behind the writing of PETER PAN is strange and tragic but this was so inept it could only make only this specious reference to it.

The only performer of any merit was Marie Arnet as Wendy whose pure soprano voice made one sit up and listen during the odd aria but that was it.

Luckily they allowed me to tell them what I thought because in the famous "clap if you believe in fairies" scene which was here made more twatty by Peter saying to the audience make a noise if you believe in them I happily blew the biggest raspberry I could.

I guess a positive was that it was just about 2 hours, but sadly I will never get them back.  I guess I can complement the programme which has interesting articles on Barrie and the psychology of his writing.

This was so woeful I even pined for Bonnie Langford in PETER PAN: THE MUSICAL, now *that*s saying something.  By the way, the first time I saw PETER PAN on stage was when I saw Hayley Mills play it in 1969 at the Victoria Palace.  I must try and find a programme for that somewhere.