RSC The BFG review - Dahl's giant tale is a wow-filled wonder on Stratford stage
Peter Ormerod reviews The BFG, presented by the RSC and adapted by Tom Wells and Jenny Worton, at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford
Wow. You’ll be saying that a lot if you’re lucky enough to see this.
The RSC’s new version of Roald Dahl’s fantabulous tale might be as close as the old theatre has come to showing us real magic. The production is like a window into the imagination: all is somehow weightless and wondrous. It achieves this through ingenuity, artistry and technical brilliance, but most of all through the radiance of its performers. And true to the spirit of Dahl, it never feels twee or sentimental: there are hard edges here, and dark shadows, and true mischief and wild fun.
The BFG was published in 1982, but it could be a couple of hundred years older, so timeless is it. Those initials stand for Big Friendly Giant, the name given him by Sophie, a young girl he had snatched from her orphanage. In a mesmerising opening sequence, he takes her to Giant Country, populated by the monstrous likes of Bloodbottler, Fleshlumpeater and Childchewer. But the BFG is an altogether gentler soul. He chooses not to eat humans, and lives instead on a diet of Snozzcumbers, a particularly revolting vegetable. He also spends most of his time catching dreams, which float in the air, separating good ones from bad ones, and giving the good ones to children. There is a use for bad ones, however.
What ensues is a story that refuses to make any grand points and is entirely unencumbered by big themes. It progresses in a pretty arbitrary fashion, involving a fictional Queen of England and a pair of helicopters. It is all very refreshing: the tale is not weighed down by its own sense of wonder, nor by any desire to preach. There is a current of rascally but intelligent irreverence running through the whole thing. It develops into a celebration of friendship, but this is handled deftly and naturally.
Bringing all this to the stage requires skill and vision, of which director Daniel Evans and his team evidently possess limitless supplies. Visually, the show is a marvel, a world of colour and light that draws frequent gasps and often beggars belief. Key to it all is a brilliant and wholly convincing depiction of scale: the characters sometimes appear as humans and sometimes as puppets, miniature or gigantic, manipulated with almost uncanny lifelikeness. None of this feels gratuitous or gimmicky, but rather a reflection of the assured excellence that suffuses the production.
But for all the spectacle, the biggest wow of all was Ellemie Shivers, who played Sophie on opening night. She sparkled here, a bundle of energy, playfulness, wit and determination. John Leader makes for a younger BFG than is routinely portrayed, bringing a naive warmth to the role. Maisy Lee as Sophie’s friend Kimberley was bright and sharp and warm. A whole sitcom could be based on the Queen’s stupendously pompous militaristic lackeys Captains Smith and Frith, played by Philip Labey and Luke Sumner. Half the cast are puppeteers, visible yet invisible, enchanters all; the puppets are works of art. Oleta Haffner’s score blends delight and menace: this is Dahl, so expect real scares. The ending is sublime, a heavenly vision.
This story of a giant man and a little girl is at once big and small, epic and intimate. Wow – what a Christmas gift.
Until February 7. Call 01789 331111 or visit rsc.org.uk to book.