Grimm Tales

Post-MND theatre trip to London with Fireflying Jess. The basement of Shoreditch Town Hall is the setting for a promenade / immersive production of Grimm Tales, in a version by Phillip Pullman. Five stories in three different rooms, delivered by a small company of actors in a frills-free style. Plenty of good things to take away from this. I loved the décor: woodchip and stones on some floors, an array of low-level lightbulbs strung across the low ceiling, candles in jars, suspended desk lamps with coloured bulbs, simple and evocative stacks of old chairs, rooms arranged for in-the-round- and traverse performance. And I loved the Poor Theatre style of simple props calling on the audience's childish imagination: a crutch becomes a gun, a trunk a ship, and simple sacking and a busticated umbrella are transformed into effective puppets. Costumes included some gorgeous dresses and entrancing economical touches: brushes for a hedgehog's back, a fur coat for a wolf. I liked being whisked around different rooms: it was a reminder of Punchdrunk's The Drowned Man, except in this case you don't spend time wandering around empty spaces wondering what you're missing. The five stories were Red Riding Hood, Rapunzel,The Three Snake Leaves, Hans my Hedgehog and The Juniper Tree (our favourite: puppetry, music, live sound effects, great use of space).

The acting itself was what it needed to be: clear, without irony, direct. Sometimes the lines were so simple it left the performers without much room for maneouvre and ti was hard for the stories to get into a rhythm. It struck me that the characters are calling out for a large gestural performance, while the small spaces call for something more nuanced and intimate, and this left the actors in a curious place, giving a kind of parlour-room panto. Except that these stories are much, much darker than panto, and this was the strong hand of the evening - a gathering sense of darkness, culminating in the genuinely spooky final story. Pullman's text (Carol Ann Duffy has already done one) does the strange thing of having actors as simultaneous characters and storytellers. So a bride, say, would have a line like 'You must promise to die when I do, she said', with the 'she said' stepping out of the part momentarily. Odd, perhaps it just takes getting used to. After the show we were invited to look around various rooms lovingly designed to suggest other stories: a creepy little dormitory for seven dwarves, a spinning wheel (Rumpelstiltskin), corridor of mirrors and a glass-encased bed for Sleeping Beauty. Theatre blended into art. Disney fell away to reveal the shadowy world of these odd tales. Other notes: I would have liked more music. But perhaps that's just because I was reminded of Kneehigh Theatre's The Wild Bride, with its fabulous bluesy score. And I guess likeing the sparseness and imagination and wanting a high production value live music accompaniment is asking to have it both ways. £35 seemed a a little steep for a small-scale show, but that's London for you. Glad I went, at its best this show was immersive in the fullest sense of the word. Will steal, or try to.