THE SNOWMAN RETURNS TO THE WEST END

By Madeleine Anderson ⭐⭐⭐⭐ | Press Invite

After nearly three decades at The Peacock theatre the stage-adaption of The Snowman is like a favourite jumper, cosy, comforting, and slightly worn at the sleeves. 

Now in its 27th year Robert North’s ballet adaptation of Raymond Briggs’ original 1978 cartoon showcases the author and illustrator’s rare ability to balance impish humour with the melancholy of the melting snow at Christmas.

When I arrived, I knew I was in for a treat. The theatre lobby was jammed with pushchairs and the buzz of small scale chaos that only gaggles of toddlers can bring.

Set in a snow-globe shaped stage the play begins with the slow scenes of festive domesticity, with a worn armchair, small electric heater, a mother, father and a small boy – James.

The performance begins with James slowly waking in his red-framed bed, stretching out in his faded blue pyjamas, before putting on his maroon dressing gown and soft brown slippers.

After spending the day building the snowman, James sneaks into the garden at night to check his still static creation, who suddenly bursts into life before his eyes in a crash of symbols and the sudden flash of lights on stage.

Like the later 1982 animation of Brigg’s story, hardly any words are spoken throughout the performance, but the show is punctuated by Howard Blake’s now iconic soundtrack that starts by introducing the first falls of snow with a soft melodic tinkle.

Additional characters include a giant dancing coconut, pineapple and sunglasses-wearing banana which were a particular hit with the younger critics in the audience.

The three big fruits emerged from the seemingly endless fridge space which, as the little boy behind me noted, must have been ‘massive’ to contain such characters.

The performance plays with naïve scale throughout the story, including with massive boxes of fish fingers (used by the snowman as a step into the  freezer) and a giant switch in the outdoor ‘garage’ which the snowman and James take turns to flick, with each touch bringing a bright new colour, transforming the grey garage space into a quality-street bright disco floor.

James first flies into the air with the snowman after the interval, and two black ropes are used to lift the small boy and his much bigger companion into the air. The black ropes were pretty visible, even from a few rows back.

The young critic behind me noted that the two actors were ‘clearly’ attached to rope. The magic of the moment wasn’t ruined exactly, that’s hard to do when ‘Walking in the Air’ is playing, but a lighter rope would have made the airborne illusion more compelling.

After flying through the air over rolling hilltops and the fading lights of London the second half continues with James and the snowman entering the North Pole to meet Father Christmas and the other snowmen.

The second half was more energetic than the first, with more dance scenes – including the Dance of the Snowmen and from the Music Box Ballerina herself.

Despite being a ballet, the fluffy white suits of the snowmen and slippered feet of James make for less sharp moves than you would usually expect from West End dancers. At times, this veers into clumsiness, but if you accept the performance as playful rather than precise, it’s easy to overlook the occasionally looser footwork of The Snowman’s Cast.

When James and the snowman return to the house and garden where the story begins, the snowman stands alone on the far-right of the stage. As James falls asleep in bed the snowman gradually melts in the semi-darkness of the stage. Still poignant, the scene felt slightly rushed, probably for the sake of younger audience members.

The performance closed with several rounds of applause for the actors, who came together on stage for a final festive dance. Whilst slightly greying at the seams, The Snowman stands strong in its thirtieth year, and is well worth seeing, whatever your age.

The Snowman is showing at The Peacock Theatre now until January 2025.

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Photo Credit: Tristam Kenton