Tim Burton’s 90s classic returns to the stage through the touring production of Matthew Bourne’s ballet adaptation, currently playing in London during the holiday season. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if it’s ambitious montage ended up making the cut.
The more you like yourself, the less you are like anyone else – which makes you unique. The old plot of the neglected outcast may not bring as much originality as the message it tries to convey. But the themes it represents, dealing with the clashes of individuality in a society that, for too long, has forced blandness upon our personal identities, don’t seem to have blown out its flame even as of today. From the charming classic fairy tales to the grimmer turn-of-the-century Gothic horror novellas, the recurring premise of those deemed as misfits and their struggles in a community that deliberately denies them any hints of compassion continues to explore different channels of expression – finding new ways to speak the same truth to every heart that’s been turned a blind eye on.
Tim Burton’s acclaimed cinematic piece (and 90s teenage Johnny Depp fantasy) might as well serve as a modern epitome of this concept. A story of doomed love revolving around a Frankenstein-ish figure and a virginal (uh-hum) beauty, this childlike account is nonetheless quite a mature, insightful comment on the punishing cruelty that not abiding by the tacit rules of communal establishment carries. A wondrous journey oozing screen-jumping magic from start to finish, its enchanting allure makes of it a no-brainer when it comes to stage adaptation ideas – whether it be through the popular (though not safe) formula of song and dance; or, perhaps more challenging, a ballet.
Matthew Bourne’s recounting abilities have already been proven quite a few times under the spotlight. From reinterpreting vintage icons to dragging modern works into the genre, his productions are easily defined by his powerful skills for visual narration, strong comedic sense and a compelling, seamless blending of traditional and contemporary techniques. This is no exception. Going by the book (or script) as for the core elements of the film’s outline, the show successfully brings back the much beloved yarn through a mesmerizing blast of colour, charm and movement.
Sumptuously playing to an ongoing iambic tone, the montage counts on cartoon-stylised sets (credit to Lez Brotherston) and slightly transporting, occasionally poetic lighting (carried out by Howard Harrison), graciously preserving the glitz and flair of its counterpart by focusing on its melodramatic elements. With a bunch of minor changes in its development (Edward being found scavenging through the hood’s bins instead of during Peg’ “Avon calls” route, for instance), the revised tweaks do not compromise the effectiveness of the story’s delivery as a whole. However, this decision has, to some point, erased some of the more profound and philosophical grip of its elder brother.
Relying perhaps a bit too much on slapstick moments, certain gimmicks could have instead been replaced for a few more thoughtful (yet also emotional) snippets – at the same time, covering up the small plot holes this version is faced with. We see that he’s called Edward when a welcoming party is thrown is his honour – yet, we never find out how they learned about that fact. Irrelevant for some, an intentional ellipsis for others, the important thing here is that such matter could have led to one of the most enticing excerpts of the whole performance – as he could have introduced himself by carving his name on the ice or snow (an anticipation for the emblematic fragment that will unravel later), as Danny Elfman’s tear-triggering leitmotif plunges into our ears; and later, and more lasting by mixing it with such a whimsical image, into our souls.
A similar situation takes place during his initial encounter with the family, who appear to be scared of him for roughly a minute, but rapidly turn to love and care for him at the snap of a finger. Wouldn’t it be more enthralling to pause the humour for a moment and reflect on the piercing grief of rejection, to be followed by the rewarding feeling of ultimate acceptance and group belonging? Once again, kneading the notion of self determination in a world that attempts to phase you out just because you’re not like the rest.
Regardless, the show manages to beguile us with a much enjoyable and evocative ride – starting with an incredibly well-crafted score based on the movie’s unforgettable soundtrack. Beautifully instrumented and serving the narrative through a flawless execution, a very special mention is fairly deserved by conductor Brett Morris, for his careful interpretation and intricate attention to phrasing, sentiment and, all in all, musicality – giving clout, vigour and articulation to every bar and line through what also is a remarkably sounding orchestra.
In addition, the entire company performs with elegance, stamina and luster, boasting a superbly competent technical standard, anyway eclipsed by their natural theatricality and passionate acting-centered approach. Among them, a few shout-outs are worth making, those earned by both ensemble and principal dancers alike. Ben Brown gives a noticeable rendition in the now more sympathetic part of Jim Upton (Kim’s boyfriend and former-ish bully in the motion picture), exuding presence and magnetism through a most glimmering portrayal – evenly supported by James Lovell and Edwin Ray’s blithe appearances as neighbour couple Todd and Ryan Gaibright (got the pun too). Nonetheless, the greatest praise is given, in this case, to Liam Mower in the title role – regaling us with an incredibly arduous yet much satisfying physical performance, drawing out the poise and fascination that the original character already swept us away with back in the silver screen.
Filled with glamour, feel-good energy and mountains of inspiration, Edward Scissorshands has returned in a trim, different form of itself. And though not too innovative (the show’s been around since 2005), it still emanates the essence and freshness of what made it special in its primary incarnation. A grasping theatrical whirlpool in its own right, Matthew Bourne keeps the dash of its previous work through a piece that, despite its minor blemishes, ensures a night of thrills and nostalgia culminating in a blast of zeal and imagination – and as result, an strikingly intoxicating dream to our senses, and ultimately, our spirits. It may not be complete, but that’s also what gave purpose to the protagonist in the first place.
All pictures credit to Johan Persson.
Edward Scissorhands plays at London’s Sadler’s Wells Theatre until 20 January. Tickets are available on the following link.