“The woods are lovely, dark and deep…” – They certainly are when designed by Tom Scutt . And Jordan Fein’s glorious new production will, I think, convert many a Sondheim-sceptic to go deeper into his ironic brilliant darkness and depth, at least for this show. Every scene is a visual treat, evoking remembered childhood illustrations or Breughel paintings: all is carefully lit by Aideen Malone with real thought and sense of pace and changing mood to match Mark Aspinall’s propulsive, exciting 12-piece orchestra.
Scutt also peoples his wood with fairytale-medieval costumes, done with just the right ironic exaggeration whether princely gilding or humble peasantwear. We sit rapt, like children being told a folk-tale story, but at the same time like adults as the tales cross and re-cross and exasperate one another, accepting the mess and inconclusiveness of real life. We revel in Lapine and Sondheim’s taste for the weird wonder of human desires – the common thread of wishes, quests, dubious heroisms and all perilous private journeys away from the hearth and into the woods. The old folk-tales knew how to bring thrill and dread together, especially in the darker versions Disney and modern parental squeamishness leave out. When Red Riding Hood and Grandma stump out of the cottage after being inside the wolf, or Cinderella’s sisters cut their toes off, in this show we know about it.
Fein also takes care to let each individual character flower (as he did in his memorable Fiddler on the Roof which toured this year). It is hard to pick out stars, because this ensemble is so well-knit, and all of them achieve the peculiarly difficult trick of rattling through Sondheim’s rap-speed music as if they’d made it up on the spot in a fit of private passion, each inhabiting the character in full. Kate Fleetwood is a memorable witch, Katie Brayben tough and touching as the Baker’s Wife alongside Jamie Parker as the anxious, scuttling, questing, gradually developing Baker. As for the two princes – Oliver Savile and Rhys Whitfield – they are unspeakably funny in their delusional vulnerability in both halves. Chumisa Dornford-May’s wonderfully fed-up Cinderella expresses her runaway doubts with glee. Nice to see after the Jewish panto (scroll below) where Cinders also has her misgivings…
One can forget how funny many moments are in Sondheim’s extraordinary piece, because you leave thinking about the solemn messages of the final moments , of resolution and the fact that we need one another because frankly, it’s generally messy-ever-after and there’s always the Putin immensity of a Giant to face. But Fein, always true to emotion, never lets you forget that he’s in the entertainment business. The encounter between Cinders’ prince and the Baker’s wife had gales of shockedly contented laughter all around me; yet Rapunzel’s traumatized anger rings as uneasy as it should. There are lessons here. That “We disappoint, we leave a mess”. But children will listen, and adults learn…
Well, I was a Sondheimite before, but this beautiful production will make more converts.
bridgetheatre.co.uk to 30 May 2026
and a design mouse for Mr Scutt
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