Picture: Roy Tan
Rumpelstiltskin continues at the South Bank Centre’s Royal Elizabeth Hall until 6 January 2019.
Star rating: two stars ★ ★ ✩ ✩ ✩
The European fairy tale of Rumpelstiltskin, best known by the version collected by the Brothers Grimm, is given a modern twist by Australian theatre company Windmill, receiving its UK premiere on the South Bank this Christmas.
In this version, Paul Capsis’ goblin Rumpelstiltskin is a reclusive dress designer who uses his magical capabilities to conjure up fashion designs. Assisted by a rat (Alirio Zavarce) and a crow (Elena Carapetis), Rumpelstiltskin hires an actor (Mitchell Butel’s Malcolm) to play him in public appearances.
For much of Act I, this production bears little to no resemblance to the fairy tale many of us grew up with. Sheridan Harbridge’s Harriet catches Rumpelstiltskin’s eye, and after he introduces himself as “Rusty”, he awards her a job as manager of his boutique outlet.
The dissimilarity with what we might expect is intriguing to begin with. It certainly helps that the show is visually striking: spiralling animated projections illustrate the stage’s rounded proscenium, while Jonathon Oxlade’s costume designs combine couture madness with commedia dell’arte mummery.
The problems first set in with the ever-present underscoring by composer and musical director Jethro Woodward. The perpetual presence of a thrumming electric guitar, laced with reverb, often seems at odds with the absurdist fairy tale being staged by director Rosemary Myers.
And while it is always nice for a production such as this to feature original songs, too many of Woodward’s compositions feel cut from the same languorous whimsy as his underscore.
A couple of 60s pop pastiche numbers aside, everything seems paced at a rock ballad tempo, which battles with what should be an exciting retelling.
When coupled with a sound amplification system that, while counteracting the refurbished Queen Elizabeth Hall’s unsuitability as a play venue, also serves to further distance the audience from emotional attachment with the onstage characters, the result is an aural disservice done to the performers.
Capsis, in particular, has a blast as the titular goblin, especially once the familiar aspects of the story reappear and he takes Harriet’s new baby (her most treasured possession) as payment for a boon.
Perhaps the best physical work, though, is done by Ezra Juanta’s oversized baby, who gurgles and toddles around the stage with such great comic timing that he steals every scene he is in.
Other attempts at whimsy, such as Michael Burger’s Tootie (a magically anthropomorphised whistle, for no discernible reason) tap dancing her way through a soft rock ballad that Natalie Imbruglia wouldn’t turn her nose up at, feel more like a lack of vision as to what this show is and who it’s aimed at.
Indeed, it feels as if Rumpelstiltskin is a show that wants the absurdist fairy tale retellings of pantomime, but which looks down on the elements of panto which keep audiences entertained. Without anything to take their place, though, the result is a piece which is frustratingly uninvolving.
Scott Matthewman
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