Zog and the Flying Doctors review – plucky princess and her crew take flight
Freckle Productions specialise in staging Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffler’s brilliant bedtime-saving picturebooks and have got it down to a fine art. Their latest is a high-energy, witty show that is so good my son Benji (three-and-a-half) is left wanting more. He turns to me at the end and asks: “Are we only going to one theatre?”
Composer and lyricist Joe Stilgoe worked on Freckle’s version of Zog and his score for the sequel is brisk and vibrant, threaded through with thoughtful musical motifs and lit up by sparky rhymes (“I’m not joking – there could’ve been no king!”). Every once in a while, Stilgoe’s lyrics trip over themselves in a quest to be a bit too clever and a few gags – particularly one about the NHS (or National Horn Service) – leave Benji confused. But they generally pay homage to Donaldson’s luminous original text without overpowering it.
The performances are far more nuanced than you’ll find in lots of children’s theatre, and the singing rich. Emily Attridge-Cox’s plucky princess turned doctor holds the show together with her no-nonsense energy. Edward Conroy has lovely comic timing as the princess’s hapless knight and supporting surgeon. There’s a warmth, too, to Ethan Jay Scott’s Zog, a dragon who loves to fly but is a little shaky on his landings. James Stirling’s pompous king might have been plucked straight from Hamilton, as he struts grumpily about the stage and moodily sings to his subjects.
The animal patients – all struggling to find their place in the world – are brought to life with some carefully detailed costumes from designer Lucy Bradridge. There’s an anxious two-horned unicorn who looks like a slightly frazzled Saturday Night Fever tribute act in his flared trousers and sequined suit. The moment the unicorn finds his voice and brings the young audience with him (Benji clapping and whooping with glee) is a joy. The lonely mermaid waddles about the stage, permanently attached to a giant sea rock, and the sickly lion boasts a spectacular headdress, an explosion of frills and fluffiness.
Zog and the doctors’ adventure-filled flights are brought to life with a beautifully crafted mini puppet that soars across a smoke-strewn sky. There’s barely a beat that hasn’t been considered and embellished, including some nice moments of interaction keeping the young audience involved throughout. After the show, Benji remarks: “The actors kept pausing themselves, so that we could clap!” And clap we did.
At Cadogan Hall, London, until 31 August
