'Mr Gum and the Dancing Bear' review or 'This could get a little sticky.'

'Mr Gum and the Dancing Bear', Andy Stanton 
National Theatre, 3rd August 2019
Written for The Guardian 

This is no ordinary family show. In fact, Mr Gum and the Dancing Bear, which children’s author Andy Stanton has adapted himself, is downright bizarre. It is packed with eccentric details and excessive verbal flourishes. It’s an approach that has served Stanton well in his popular books, but is tricky to pull off in the theatre. Time and again, quirky detail is prioritised over clarity of storytelling. Distinctive? Yes. But disappointing.

The creative team is a strong one. Amy Hodge recently directed an ambitious Mother Courage; Georgia Lowe has designed sets for some startling productions including Equus and An Octoroon; and Jim Fortune composed the music for the National’s extraordinary community production of Pericles. But this exciting group of theatre-makers have created relatively little children’s theatre, and their lack of experience shows.

The one aspect that lands is the visuals. Lowe worked on The Twits and there is a whiff of Roald Dahl to her designs, vivid and flecked with danger. We first meet Mr Gum (Steve Furst) and his sidekick Billy (Helena Lymber) at a butcher’s, where a blood-splattered carcass hangs overhead. When Mr Gum steals a lonely Bear and drags him to the docks, determined to make his fortune, the costumes turn crimson, bold and a little bit sexy. Later, when young Polly (Keziah Joseph) releases Bear in the Kingdom of Beasts, a canopy of green umbrellas blooms above us. Jimmy Grimes’s Bear puppet is made up of raggedy brown scraps, a lost toy waiting to be found and loved.

The set manages to connect with the story – but that’s about it. Stanton’s lyrics are wordy and quirky but lack punch. They also land at the strangest of moments. There’s a song about snacks and another about tummy rumblings and there is nothing Jim Fortune’s big, bold score can do to make either feel significant. Stanton’s book is also heavy with irony and in-jokes, brimming with diversions but little direction. When Polly is stranded out at sea, her big number includes the line: ‘This is the saddest song in the show!’ The quip generates a few giggles but it also sucks the feeling, and focus, right out of the production.