THEATRE
By Lydia Parker
Cinderella Gillian Lynne Theatre
Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Cinderella has finally opened at the Gillian Lynne Theatre after a string of Covid-related delays. With a book by Academy Award-winning writer Emerald Fennell, best known for playing Camilla Parker Bowles in ‘The Crown’, this production has been hotly anticipated, especially as it promised a new, more feminist, take on a traditional fairy tale. Is it worth the wait? Well, it is certainly splashy and fun and brightly coloured with a fantastically talented cast. The little girls in the audience in their Disney princess costumes most likely enjoyed it immensely, but, like me, may have been left a bit confused. The world of this fairy tale is a town called Belleville which has its own monarchy, a vapid but gorgeous Queen and her equally vapid subjects whose only concern in life is winning the most beautiful town award every year. The opening number, ‘Buns ‘n’ Roses’ says it all as flirty women dance sexily around bare chested men. There are only two blights to their existence: 8
AMERICAN IN BRITAIN
Prince Sebastian is a major disappointment to all but especially his mother, as he’s not his handsome, hunky, perfect brother Prince Charming who disappeared in battle. The other blight is Cinderella, his troublemaking, surly best friend. When Cinderella defaces the new statue of Prince Charming, she is hunted down by the townspeople with pitchforks and tied to a tree, left to sing Bad Cinderella. She’s still the heroine of the story, forced to work as a scullery maid for her evil stepmother in what should be her chateau, but this Cinderella is seemingly not resigned to her fate. She’s a scrappy emo/ goth in black lace, fingerless gloves and clunky boots. Sebastian is obviously in love with his childhood friend and she with him, but we wouldn’t have a story if they admitted it to each other, would we? The Queen decides Sebastian must marry to improve his image, “The people find you creepy and who can blame them?”. She arranges a ball where he must choose a bride from the invited guests. The Stepmother, of course, doesn’t want Cinderella to go, having caught her chatting to Sebastian in the woods, as she wants her own daughters,
the vacuous and lovely Marie and Adele, visions in blonde hair and pink tulle, to marry the prince. As the Stepmother says, “I have one daughter who’s an imbecile, the other half as bright”. The Stepmother attempts to blackmail the Queen in the hilarious accordian-accompanied number ‘I Know You’, reminiscent of ‘I Remember It Well’ from Gigi; it seems they both come from seedy backgrounds in the entertainment world. The Queen is unfazed and perfectly happy for Cinderella to marry Sebastian; she may be shallow but she’s happily open minded. Cinderella pays a visit to a dress shop, run by The Godmother, who promises to make her beautiful in return for her mother’s necklace, a precious possession that Cinderella gives up a bit too easily. This Godmother is not exactly kindly or Bibbity Bobbity Boo-ing; she’s a scary plastic surgeon who transforms Cinderella into an awkward blonde Barbie Doll version of herself, the upshot of which is Sebastian doesn’t even recognise her and dismisses her as being as superficial as all the other women without even talking to her. It’s a bit harsh considering the moral of the
