Review: Sleeping Beauty at Chester Storyhouse ***

Panto season brings with it a myriad magical lands inhabited by plucky princesses in peril, loyal but hapless sidekicks, boo-able baddies and hirsute men in fake bosoms and garish make-up.

Sleeping Beauty, drawing family audiences to Chester Storyhouse this season, ticks the boxes of two of these four festive tropes, with Grace Venus’ Aurora an innocent abroad but one who ultimately controls her own destiny, and Polly Lister as a suitably cackling Maleficent who does her damnedest to stop her.

Storyhouse has abandoned its traditional thrust stage configuration for Christmas 2024 to present its festive show in the main theatre – the first time since The Wizard of Oz in 2018.

It gives designer Laura Ann Price the chance to think big. And she does, with a pleasingly symmetrical and colourful two-storey set complete with light-edged staircases, hidden spaces and not one but two magical trap door/lifts.

She goes to town on the costumes too, particularly those of Flora (Caitlin Drake) and Fauna (Torvah Zafrin) – two of three fairies who watch over Aurora, a pair of cheery squirrels who have the time of their life, and Lister, decked out in the full Disney horned regalia as the ‘mistress of all evil’.

In Samantha O’Rourke’s retelling of the Perrault classic, Sleeping Beauty has a tinge of Snow White, with Aurora being given refuge in a hidden woodland home to keep her from the clutches of her relation (in this case, a wicked aunt) who has killed the princess’s parents and seized the throne for herself.

Above: Polly Lister as Maleficent. Top: Aurora (Grace Venus) is drawn towards the spinning wheel. Photos by Mark McNulty.

Here the guileless Aurora trills with the birds, talks to woodland creatures and squabbles with Scott Gutteridge’s Edward the woodsman. It’s what you might call a love-hate relationship.

When she’s threatened by Maleficent, the fairies decide the only way to best the wicked queen is for Aurora to marry (something to do with her parents’ will) and take back the crown. But who will she choose?

Enter Will Kirk’s Prince. Kirk, dressed like a frosted cupcake (there’s a LOT of pink going on all over the place on stage), proves to be hugely entertaining. Imagine the Adrian Boswell of royal suitors.

In fact, he’s one of a triumvirate of male characters who often threaten to romp off with the show – they also include Gutteridge’s prickly-but-yearning Edward, and Tom Richardson as Maleficent’s right-hand man…or rather, right-winged Duck, who builds a winning rapport with the audience as he reluctantly carries out her orders.

Will Aurora fall for the Maleficent's ‘spinning wheel as a prize’ deception? If so, what happens when she falls into a deep sleep? And whose is the ‘true love’s kiss’ that will awaken her?

All the panto ingredients are there. Yet somehow this festive bake emerges from the oven looking a bit…flat.

Above: Aurora (Grace Venus) and Edward (Scott Gutteridge). Photo by Mark McNulty.

In fairness to the cast, the performance I watched was a relaxed one, which meant loud bangs and fiery special effects had been axed or toned down and a smiling Lister appeared, Pyramus and Thisby-like, before the start to explain “we’re all just actors and there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Even so, the opening feels underpowered and while there are some enchanting moments here and there for the kids, and knowing allusions and keen lines aimed at the adults, overall, it feels like it needs an extra injection of theatrical magic.

The show’s soundtrack is jam packed with songs from start to finish. They are well performed in the main; Lister is a powerful vocal presence, and the fairies (Drake, Zafrin and Pavanveer Sagoo as Merryweather) harmonise really beautifully. But a handful of numbers could be stripped out without trouble, particularly in the second half, to tighten the running time.

And while conveying a positive message within your story is no bad thing, panto audiences essentially want to come and be entertained rather than feel they’re being preached at, which is what the ending gets perilously close to doing.