Review: PAN, Chickenshed Theatre

When Chickenshed decided to celebrate its 50th Christmas show by polling audiences for their favourite to revive, it was no surprise that Pan won out with over 2000 votes. That it’s a great production goes without saying, but I wondered if there was a little extra unconscious commendation in play when crosses were etched.

No less an authority than Wikipedia tells us that pan is a prefix meaning "all", "of everything", or "involving all members" of a group. What show could be better named, then, after half a century of inclusivity, welcome and lives changed? And the Greek God Pan? We’re told that he is energetic, sometimes frightening, with the wild, unbridled creative force of nature that makes him an interesting, and often entertaining, character. Yep, that’s on the money too for the cavalcade of humanity that pours on to the stage - it’s like Aida at times in N14!

The analogy only holds so far though. Peter Pan, in this musical adaptation of the JM Barrie classic, refuses to grow up, even as Wendy pulls him towards the complexities of an adult’s emotional world. At Chickenshed, you can see kids growing up in real time - taking responsibility, appreciating the power of empathy, understanding that difference is not to be feared, but to be celebrated and embraced. It’s no wonder that so many of the cast and creatives first came to Chickenshed to learn - and stayed on to teach and make theatre for those coming behind them.

All well and good, but on our side of the fourth wall that can sound a little like the kale smoothie quality of a primary school show - you’re glad that you’ve done it when it’s over, but it wasn’t much fun at the time. Ha! Not a bit of it!

Pan comprises the components of the familiar tale, introduced, in this update from past productions, by a storyteller, mitigating the need to warn against some of the dangerous escapades that you do not want to try at home! We meet the ersatz mother, Wendy (Abbi Ella Dockerty, capturing the fear and excitement of adolescence), witness their father’s poor treatment of Nana, the dog/nanny and, of course, on the window sill, the boy who has lost his shadow, Peter (the flying Tristan Manzi, an Adam Ant-like figure of transgression and heroism, still a student on a Chickenshed degree course).

Though some will be a little disappointed that The Crocodile, that spectacular nemesis of Captain Hook, is heard but not seen, the pirate king and his motley crew are compensation enough. Jonny Morton, back for an umpteenth run round this stage, leans into Johnny Depp at his campest, Hook a villain we love to hate, ridicule and humour easing a response to his murderous plans. Speaking love-hate, there’s also Lucy-Mae Beacock as Tinkerbell, Peter’s fairy, an always ambivalent figure, whose malevolence is driven by her fear of being usurped by Wendy. When we were asked to clap to save her, I was slightly reluctant to reward her relentless moral blackmail with an unearned redemption - which is how it should be.     

So, if you want it, there’s plenty of complicated psychology to ponder in the relationships disrupted by the girl who wants to grow up and the boy who doesn’t. But it’s easier, and more fun, to surrender to the songs and spectacle that, as ever at this theatre, project an authenticity and joy that shows with six and seven figure budgets can only dream about. “Yo Ho Ho” indeed!

Dave Carey’s score comprises catchy tunes, witty rhymes and a torrent of opportunities for directors, Michael Bossisse and Louise Perry, to deliver set pieces crowded with humanity, whether playing bloodthirsty pirates in pursuit of Peter, Lost Boys and Girls pining for their mothers, or the fairies and mermaids of a world unseen in ours. The visuals are powerful, but what overwhelms is the joy you can feel both on stage and in the stalls. 

Is this the much-heralded, usually elusive, self-actualisation in action, a robust denial that kids are inevitably, irreparably traumatised by 21st century life or, worse still, are dehumanised ‘problems’ that need fixing? Is it a powerful demonstration of theatre’s capacity to marshall a collective in order to achieve otherwise unattainable outcomes? Is it an inarguable case that education, at all levels for all people, must incorporate the arts, the window on the soul? Yes, Yes and Yes.

Theatre is always precarious - to be honest, most wouldn’t have it any other way - but to survive at the end of the Piccadilly Line for 50 years (especially the last ten) is a remarkable feat, grounded in commitment, heart and talent. After so many years of government hostility to the Arts, the rhetoric is changing. Chickenshed may just, just, have the chance to swim with the tide and not against it for a while - God knows they deserve it.  

Pan at Chickenshed until 11 January 2025

Photo Credits: Chickenshed Theatre

 

To post a comment, you must register and login.