Scissorhandz review – musical reanimates Burton classic with cuts from Radiohead and Aerosmith
In Tim Burton’s 1990 fairytale, you hear Edward Scissorhands before you see him, as Johnny Depp cowers in the shadows, metallic fingers clinking. But Jordan Kai Burnett, taking the lead role in this jukebox musical reinvention, is no wallflower. They storm the stage with the famous shears raised, imploring us to lift our hands and make some noise.
Previously performed in Los Angeles, co-produced by Michelle Visage and ‘NSync’s Lance Bass, Scissorhandz lands in London like a fully fledged cult hit. Visage’s voiceover welcomes an audience of “beautiful weirdos” and treats us as a pre-existing fan club.
Writer-director Bradley Bredeweg has had fun with the set list, bringing together outsider anthems including Radiohead’s Creep and bands whose very names evoke Burton’s world, such as Smashing Pumpkins and Florence + the Machine. A Scissor Sisters track was perhaps inevitable: Let’s Have a Kiki, a long-term drag favourite, fuels a party for the prying locals meeting the mysterious guest that Avon lady Peg (a sympathetic Emma Williams) brings home.
That number is an outrageous high point for a show that is generally too reverential to succeed as parody and never embraces zaniness to the extent of Titanic spoof Titanique. Adult panto-style gags (in a show for over-12s, mind) sit alongside earnest sincerity. Humour and pathos are never blended as delicately as by Burton.
The film was about a boy built by a man; the musical has a female inventor creating a child and focuses on gender identity as part of self-discovery. Unlike the tight-lipped Depp, Burnett gives us a character – known only as Scissorhands – who narrates their own story and belts out their feelings. It is an emotionally engaging central performance in a well-sung production; Dionne Gipson as the Inventor and Tricia Adele-Turner as an imperious neighbour also stand out.
Bredeweg establishes an edgy momentum – Burnett literally running with scissors – but the robbery scene is bungled and the storytelling stalls when dragging out the love triangle between Scissorhands, Peg’s daughter Kim (Lauren Jones) and her boyfriend, Jim (Richard Carson). The projections and set design, both by James Pearse Connelly, are well integrated on a stage that has towering amps as a permanent backdrop to pastel-coloured suburban homes on wheels. Handfuls of fake snow and an airborne model for Scissorhands’ gothic home are part of a charming DIY aesthetic, although the unspectacular ice sculpture dampens the big romantic scene.
A booted ensemble wear hoods and strappy black leather inspired by Scissorhands’ S&M-style outfit. The script emphasises Peg’s own isolation, making her a kindred spirit, and doomsayer Esmeralda (Annabelle Terry) becomes more flamboyant, especially singing Heaven Is a Place on Earth, which morphs into roof-raising congregation.
As with all jukebox musicals, some lines simply distract while others hit home, such as Kim singing “you hold me without touch” from Gravity by Sara Bareilles. Music director and orchestrator Gregory Nabours’ macabre choral arrangement of Aerosmith’s Dream On manages to strike a similar tone to Danny Elfman’s film score. But the jumble of songs, played by a tight band, never quite finds a unified sound and the relationships between characters don’t all convince. It’s a fun and heartfelt show yet retains the air of a work-in-progress, as unfinished as a child with scissors for hands.
At Southwark Playhouse Elephant, London, until 29 March
