Review: The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe at the Liverpool Empire ***1/2

It was hosting a trio of young evacuees during the Second World War which sparked the idea which eventually led to CS Lewis’ famous fantasy tale, marking its 75th anniversary this year.

And conflict certainly casts a shadow over proceeding in this touring stage production of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, doing brisk business at the Empire during this half term week.

We first meet the Pevensie children, the tale’s quartet of young protagonists, in a gloomy railway station as they and fellow tag-wearing mini-Londoners are packed off to safer pastures to the strains of We’ll Meet Again and on a puppet Hogwarts Express-style train which hurtles around the stage with windows blazing (accompanied by the sound, in my head at least, of ARP warden Mr Hodges shouting – put those ruddy lights out!).

In fact, the dedication to the wartime vibe extends to the blackout-level gloom which envelops the whole of the first half as Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy meet their eccentric host (Kraig Thornber’s Professor) together with – a slyly clever invention for this retelling - his cat Schrödinger, and find their way through a wardrobe into a wintery Narnia.

Here the inquisitive Lucy (LIPA graduate Kudzai Mangombe, engaging) meets Alfie Richards’ faun Tumnus, while bolshie brother Edmund (Bunmi Osadolor), blinded by anger against his critical siblings, is seduced into betraying them and the inhabitants of Narnia thanks to a box of magical Turkish Delight wielded by Katy Stephens’ enjoyably icy White Witch.

But while the witch plots the downfall of ‘the sons of Adam’ and the ‘daughters of Eve’ to extinguish the final embers of resistance in this conquered land, it seems the prophecy of the return of Narnia’s saviour, Aslan, is about to be fulfilled.

Above: The inhabitants of Narnia. Top: Susan, Peter and Lucy meet Aslan the Lion. Photos by Brinkhoff-Moegenburg.

The tale has long been seen as an allegory of the Passion of Christ, although Lewis is also said to have described Aslan as being inspired by the Jesus rather than being a direct representation. It’s no coincidence though that the Son of God was known by some as the Lion of Judah.

But there’s also something distinctly pagan too about Lewis’ fantastical story, something very Herne the Hunter in its animal representations and natural enchantment.

In any event, the Biblical comparison is certainly not laboured in this stage adaptation, where the battle between good and evil, and where ideas of courage, sacrifice, betrayal, forgiveness and love, are explored in a more wide-ranging way.

This Lion, Witch and Wardrobe, also appears to draw its storytelling inspiration from a wide field, including The Wizard of Oz, The 39 Steps, Rocky Horror, Wicked and a touch of Les Mis.

The production is big on spectacle – Tom Paris’ set, dominated by a series of differently sized and sited circles, looks splendid on the Empire’s wide stage, the puppetry is well executed (a trio of puppeteers inhabit a giant Aslan who appears alongside his human representation, a Biblically leonine Stanton Wright), and the White Witch defies gravity with soaring velocity in a stunning visual moment ahead of the interval.

Above: The White Witch defies gravity. Photo by Brinkhoff-Moegenburg.

The ensemble sings well and showcases some great musicianship – and Thorber’s Father Christmas plays the spoons with alacrity, the choreography is deftly crafted and delivered, while among the inhabitants of Narnia, Anya de Villiers has great fun as the competent resistance fighter Mrs Beaver (‘listen very carefully, I shall only say this once’) as does Ed Thorpe who charms as Mr Beaver.

All the components are there, so it was frustrating that, on opening night at least, the show sometimes felt less than the sum of its parts, particularly in a somewhat ponderous first half. I wanted to be overwhelmed by the whole experience, when for much of the evening I was just ‘whelmed’.

Still, there was a stillness and silence among its target younger audience which suggests that, once the lights went down, they were engrossed in the action.

It was touch and go on those lights for a while however.

The auditorium wasn’t opened until after the official start time, leaving families crowded into the theatre’s public spaces and queuing down the street, while in addition to a 15-minute delay on lights going down, they came up again briefly at the start of the second half due to technical issues.