Matthew Bourne’s Edward Scissorhands: this take on Tim Burton’s much-loved film is still a cut above
Tim Burton’s gothic fable might not scream “Christmas show”, yet Matthew’s Bourne’s oddly charming take on the cult 1990 movie (scripted by Caroline Thompson) somehow lands on the festive family fun end of the dance spectrum. First seen in 2005, and now playing at Sadler’s Wells as part of a national tour, it’s a production brimming with wit, whimsy and mischief, and, crucially, it softens the original’s sharp edges in order to relay a stirring message of acceptance.
Bourne adds a prologue explaining how our title character got his shears. When Edward is struck by lightning as a boy, his inventor father resurrects him. But Dad dies before he can finish the job, leaving his child alone and with inexplicable weaponry in place of arms. Like Frankenstein’s creature, Edward is a curious innocent. His movement is initially stiff as he tests out his new limbs, weighed down by the cluster of metal. He soon learns by imitating others – a character trait perfectly conveyed via dance. There’s real tenderness to his first meeting with his eventual adoptive mother, Peg Boggs. A skittish Edward slowly leans sideways, allowing her to dab his injured cheek with her hankie.
But Edward has landed in 1950s American suburbia – a heightened, retro setting ripe for Bourne’s playful parody. Against a backdrop of identical pastel-coloured homes with manicured lawns and picket fences (the ravishing, technicolour design is by Lez Brotherston), we see apron-clad wives and briefcase-toting husbands, although look closer and there are already cracks in the smiling façade. One woman pops pills; another seduces the neighbourhood’s men.
Edward is cautiously tolerated by the townsfolk, then revered as he goes from topiary master to celebrity hairstylist. However, in Bourne’s thoughtful reading of how society treats those who are different, the community’s prejudices are just put on hold, not banished. The outsider is only ever one mistake away from violent rejection.
Liam Mower is wonderfully expressive as Edward, from his big, mournful eyes to his palpable desire to physically connect with another person – in particular his dream girl, cheerleader Kim. The impediment of the scissorhands spurs Bourne to create inventive partner work with unexpected balances, since they can’t do the usual lifts.
Katrina Lyndon’s bouncy-ponytail-sporting Kim radiates vitality, while Etta Murfitt, who created the role of Peg, imbues it with big-hearted affection. Benjamin Barlow Bazeley seethes as Kim’s bullying jock boyfriend, and Nicole Kabera relishes playing the resident sexpot, Joyce, who at one point climaxes on a washing machine (you don’t get that in The Nutcracker).
Those kooky comic details, which, along with his lucid storytelling, make Bourne’s work so joyfully accessible, occur throughout. Posters come to life, as does the topiary. When Joyce attempts to seduce Edward, a giant beanbag drops from the sky, landing with a cartoonish thump. There are moments of crystalline beauty too: as Edward ice-sculpts Kim, snowflakes whirl around them. It’s all fuelled by Danny Elfman’s lushly romantic score, elegantly arranged by Terry Davies. It might end on a melancholic note, but this vivid dance theatre is a cut above.
Until Jan 20. Tickets: 020 7863 8000; sadlerswells.com
