A mouse took a stroll through the deep, dark wood... This opening line of The Gruffalo must be repeated ad infinitum at bedtimes every night across the country. Written by Julia Donaldson and illustrated by Alex Scheffler, the book has sold more than a million copies, and for the past ten years, the stage version has been touring Britain. This month it hits the West End for the second time.
For the uninitiated, The Gruffalo is the story of a mouse who goes into a forest in search of nuts. Lying in wait are Fox, Owl and Snake, all of who see the mouse as lunch. To ward them off, Mouse invents an imaginary beast, the Gruffalo to scare off all potential predators. This works nicely, until Mouse is suddenly faced with his hairy, poisonous-wart-nosed creation.
As the lights dim, the show gets off to a noisy, rather menacing start. I worry that my two-year-old son, Finn (who is just outside the recommended age-range of 3-7 years) is going to be terrified. But instead the charming set, and the sheer enthusiasm and energy of the performances mesmerise him. Tall Stories, the theatre company behind the production, uses all the original rhyming couplets from the book, supplemented with hummable songs and an exuberant, funny script. The simple costumes mean that the children can see the actors' expressions, which makes it all the more engaging and intimate (the Gruffalo is the only character with an elaborate animal-like costume).
Unlike the understated threat in the book, the show does have a real sense of peril and there seems a strong possibility that Mouse is unlikely to come out alive. As Fox says threateningly at one point: 'Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail didn't last long in the deep, dark wood.' Donaldson's storyline survives, but the pace is slower as the verse gets lost amongst the additional material. There are ingenious moments though, especially in the characterisation of the predators: Fox is a wheeler-dealer, who wears a tweed jacket and has sideburns; Owl is caught in an RAF fantasy; Snake is a lithe Mexican dancer decked in gold sequins. The music is tailored to the characters and immensely fun. Snake has a salsa song; Fox has a ska song; while the Gruffalo's song is definitely the monster hit of the show.
The parents seem to enjoy it as much as their children. There's the dreaded audience participation, but largely involves the audience reciting the bits they know from the book. Shouts of 'Terrible tusks!' 'Terrible claws!' fill the theatre, which feels more spontaneous and less embarrassing than other audience participation. Although, when Mouse does finally outwit the terrified Gruffalo, he runs shrieking from the stage straight into the arms of my husband, begging him to save him. My husband turns crimson and looks in need of saving himself (but it doesn't matter: Finn is deeply impressed that the Gruffalo spoke to his dad). It's a charming, energetic production that lets children's imaginations run wild. There are no gizmos or fancy props, just the fairy-tale simplicity of Mouse's tail, I mean tale. It's monstrous fun.
Until Sunday 16 January at Garrick Theatre, London WC2 (0844 412 4662/garrick-theatre.co.uk). Tickets from £11.50
