My six year old companion told me excitedly that her mum was reading her this Roald Dahl classic. She also told me some secrets relating to tigers and that her coat was made from polar bear fur. So the train journey into London, filled with cheerful rugby players after the Wales-England Six Nations match, passed quickly – eased by an assortment of snacks.
At Waterloo we waited for a few minutes until the electricity powered RV1 bus took us over the bridge to Covent Garden which was jumping. I’d left some time in our schedule to join in the Faberge Egg Hunt – at each one (there are four near the Piazza) I had to take her photo and note down the number (final list was:119,36, 193, 21, 206, 13 and 123 if you are interested). We also found a stall selling Pick N Mix sweets and spent a while there making our selection – I joked that we probably had a £1,000 pounds worth when it actually came to £3.65.
Keeping our eyes open for more eggs on the way we made our way to Cambridge Circus and The Cambridge Theatre. I admit that our favourite egg (123) – dressed as a red coated, bear skin hat guard – was here. We surveyed the treasures at the merchandise stall and she declined a tee-shirt saying “Sometimes you have to be a little bit naughty” in favour of some pin badges (80p each) and a programme (£5).
Then we climbed the 56 steps up to our seats – with our journey broken by the invitation to order some interval drinks. There were lots of kids, but a fair few couples and adult groups in the audience.
We were stunned by the stage which looked like one of those complex explosion art installations at the Tate Modern – there were hundreds of books, blocks and boxes suspended all around and over the stage in a bright colours with lit boxes spelling Matilda on the stage. We were hooked already.
And, right on cue at 730pm, the stage literally splits open and children sing a rousing number called “Miracle”. The set slides smoothly between a children’s party, Mrs Wormwood giving birth to Matilda in between salsa dancing, to school and then back to a party. The message is that every child is special and the parents and prams parade dance is fabulous. It is vibrant and fun – Mr Wormwood is fantastic in a green tartan Teddy Boy suit – I really didn’t think Danny de Vito in the film could be improved upon, but he managed it. Things move and change so fast you can hardly catch your breath – my six year old was mesmerised.
Then we see poor Matilda being told off for reading books at five years old rather than watching TV. And her awful home environment where Dad calls her a boy and her mum utters the great line “Dinners don’t microwave themselves”. The kids were excellent actors, singers and dancers. The choreography (whether on swings, on desks that elevated from the floor, around school gates that looked like a cage, climbing on bedroom shelves, doing physical education routines on mats, jumping over gym equipment or scootering across the stage) was superb.
The young girl who took the lead (there’s a team and I think we enjoyed Cleo Demetriou) was incredible – true poise and presence like a consummate professional. And everyone adored a tiny young Chinese actor called Ted Wilson who played Eric.
Throughout the story of Matilda’s battle with her parents at home and Mrs Trunchbull (who was probably the star of the show with Bertie Carvel conveying her mad bullying with a delicate balance between funny and terrifying – I now have a badge saying “All children are maggots”) at school, she weaves in a story about a lady acrobat and her love the escapologist to the West Indian accented librarian Mrs Phelps (Melanie La Barrie).
During the interval we struggled through the busy bar to find our drinks and were enchanted to see the place bedecked with small blackboards bearing lots of chalked messages and funny cartoons. They sure know how to entertain kids here.
The songs are all somehow reminiscent of the great tunes from other classic musicals like Chicago, Les Miserables, Mary Poppins, Fame and Evita. Although there’s a rap flavoured number at the end as a nod to more modern times. There’s hope in the story - that a child can emerge from the most horrendous environment and still be special and find love (in this case from the lovely Miss Honey rather than her Russian mafia pursued parents). The story(ies) are gripping and the pace is fast. The show is a visual feast with lots of food for thought. It is a perfectly crafted and casted piece of theatre magic and both adults and children were enthralled.
I haven’t enjoyed a production so much since I first saw Lion King many years ago. Having spotted another egg or two on our return journey – and enjoyed the delights of the Gelato shop near The Aldwych - my young companion and I repeated “An acrobat with her clothes on fire and dynamite in her hair, flew across sharks and pointy objects..” on the train home although she was asleep by the time we passed Clapham Junction.
