'The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe' review — this much-loved family show has remarkable visuals and wild, ancient magic

Read our review of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, adapted from the C.S. Lewis novel, now in performances at Sadler's Wells to 7 September.

Returning to London four months and four days before Christmas (it’s always winter but never Christmas in Narnia under the White Witch’s rule) as a late-summer treat, Michael Fentiman’s revival of Sally Cookson’s 2017 production of the C.S. Lewis classic demonstrates why it has been so successful all over the country, with its remarkable visuals and sense of wild, ancient magic – in addition to all the beautifully cosy moments filled with food unobtainable during World War Two (rationing continued into the 1950s, when the novel was first published).

Tom Paris's set design comprises a sequence of concentric circles. Opening with a scene of idealised Blitz spirit complete with “We’ll Meet Again”, a whirling model train whisks the four Pevensie children to unfamiliar Scotland. The melding of war and fantasy can also currently be seen in Brigadoon – like the American guests in that musical, the children’s father is a pilot and experiencing terrors like nothing before.

The children (played by young adults) comprising patriarchal Peter (Jesse Dunbar), peacemaker Susan (Joanna Adaran), wayward Edmund (Bunmi Osadolor), and lively Lucy (Kudzai Mangombe) are, in many ways, the least-interesting aspect of the production with their rather two-dimensional characterisation. In all versions of the show, they have been portrayed as a Black British family and more could be made of this in relation to the notion of humans as the saviours/long-awaited invited colonisers of Narnia.

As the Turkish delight-proffering Jadis, the White Witch, Katy Stephens is all jagged malevolence and wields her power and sadistic tendencies as a weapon. On the other end of the spectrum, Kraig Thornber is a delight as Professor Kirk with his eccentric benevolence, doubling up as a very pagan Father Christmas (“King Winter”).

The ensemble nimbly doubles as the Witch’s frightful lackeys and as loveable woodland animals comprising the Narnian resistance. In a nod to challenging traditional gender roles, Mr Beaver does the cooking instead of his resistance leader wife (“What a mercy I thought of bringing the bread knife” is a favourite quote in my family when overpacking turns out to have been a wise move).

Max Humphries’s puppet design is exemplified by the representation of Aslan, embodied by a three-person-operated puppet with graceful, leonine movement. He is also characterised in human form by the truly Christ-like Stanton Wright, and we believe in both. And on the other end of the feline scale is Schrodinger, the Professor’s elderly cat, who has clearly seen things too.

The slaughter of Aslan never ceases to be terrifying and heartbreaking, though the defeat of the White Witch is handled abruptly with a whimper rather than a roar despite the measured pace of the rest of the show. The music by Benji Bower and Barnaby Race is an intrinsic part of the show’s texture, particularly the haunting use of cello and double bass and the lyrics’ deep affinity with the natural world. A recording of the songs would be very welcome.

A new series of Narnia films by Greta Gerwig are in the pipeline but flashy CGI will never be able to compete with the “deep magic” of theatre demonstrated by this much-loved production which has delighted so many audience members and has become a modern staple of intelligent family entertainment.

The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe is at Sadler's Wells to 7 September. Book The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe tickets on LondonTheatre.co.uk.

Photo credit: The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe (Photos by Brinkhoff/Moegenburg)