Ballet Shoes, National Theatre
“It’s a three-for-one deal”
Arrive early enough and you might get a pre-show lesson in how to plié. The hugely affable Pip in his lovely tutu had many in my part of the stalls on their feet but as I’m not sure my body bends that way, sadly I didn’t partake. It’s a charming way to introduce the audience to the world of Ballet Shoes, adapted here at the National Theatre by Kendall Feaver from Noel Streatfeild’s 1936 novel of the same name.
That world of Gum and Garnie, stage school and semi-precious stones is a cherished family favourite round these parts and Katy Rudd’s production doesn’t disappoint. Suitable for ages 7+ due to a couple of moments of darkness, it is unquestionably old-school entertainment to its core but so effervescent and energetic in its spirit that it should rightfully charm people whether they have read the book or not.
A playful and pacey prologue sets the scene for us. Explorer Matthew Brown is rather put out when a 12-year-old great-niece he wasn’t aware of is deposited on his doorstep on the event of her parents’ death. His roaming won’t be curtailed though as he leaves the young Sylvia with nurse Nana but somewhat taken with the notion of saving babies from orphanage life, his next three expeditions see him bring home three baby girls – Pauline, Petrova and Posy – who form a family unit with Sylvia and Nana as he goes off and disappears once again.
An increasingly dicey financial situation sees them take in a range of characterful lodgers and when fate conspires to get them enrolled at stage school, the adoptive sisters embark on a voyage of self-discovery. Pauline is a budding actress, Posy dreams of nothing but being a ballet dancer, whilst Petrova is more interested in helping fix up the classic car owned by one of the tenants. The harsh realities of the outside world are never too far away but with huge determination, the girls learn to balance chasing their dreams with holding their found family together by any means necessary.
Rudd’s production is gorgeous from top to bottom. From moments of theatrical magic in the air to heartbreakingly beautiful ballet sequences, avant-garde Shakespeare to family reunions of near-Shakespearean depth, we run the gamut of the thrills and spills of theatre kid life, underlaid with a subtle but uncompromising depiction of the female experience in the early twentieth century, ranging from immigrants, lesbians, domestic servants, even fellow ballet students, we’re left in no doubt as to the cost of pursuing independence at this time but also shown the true joy it brings.
Helena Lymbery’s Doctor Jakes, Jenny Galloway’s Nana, Pearl Mackie’s Sylvia, even Justin Salinger’s Madame Fidolia (her younger self played exquisitely by dancer Xolisweh Ana Richards), all deliver beautifully pitched work, sketching out rich inner lives as they all orbit around the various challenges of pseudo-parenthood. And Grace Saif’s Pauline, Yanexi Enriquez’s Petrova and Daisy Sequerra’s Posy are variously delightful as the self-possessed central trio, often learning life’s lessons the hard way but always moving forward with a growing understanding of what’s truly important.
Frankie Bradshaw’s set design is an Aladdin’s cave of a house, a true treasure trove of found objects in which to play; Ellen Kane’s choreography is equally lively, Nadine Higgin’s Theo in particular evoking the swing of the time as much as balletic grace; and Paule Constable lights everything with real showmanship, making the most of the vastness of the Olivier. Sid Sagar’s car-owning Jai is another delight as sweetness personified and Salinger’s multi-roling is most amusing throughout. A real festive treat for all ages.
The set is a wonderful reminder of the 1996 RSC Three Hours After Marriage