5 – 9 March
Matthew Bourne’s Edward Scissorhands, first performed nineteen years ago, is a powerful plea for tolerance and understanding that seems especially relevant in these fractured times. Based upon Tim Burton’s 1990 film, it is a tale that owes much to Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. On a remote hill a grief-crazed inventor has pieced together a creature designed to replace his dead son, Edward, and on a stormy night a bolt of lightning brings his scissor-wielding creation to life. So far so gothic, but later the orphaned creature wanders into the tidy streets of Hope Springs, and gothic gloom gives way to the bright colours of smalltown America. How generously will the good folk of Hope Springs welcome this outsider into their cosy community, and what degree of empathy will they offer to someone who does not match their social norms?
Those social norms are gently satirised as the residents of Hope Springs emerge into the morning sunshine from homes that are the epitome of ‘little boxes on the hillside’. Beautifully drawn cameos reveal middle-aged men with varying degrees of fitness taking their morning jog, youngsters with backpacks striding off to summer camp, a neighbour struggling with a recalcitrant lawnmower, a flame-haired floozy enjoying the male gaze, and a family of soberly clad evangelists looking down upon everyone else with stern disapproval. All these characters, and more, are deftly portrayed in dance sequences where different little narratives occur simultaneously. Bourne creates a very busy stage, with the eye often caught by amusing goings-on at the periphery of the main action. Every scene is enhanced by Lez Brotherston’s dazzling set and costume designs, and Howard Harrison’s lighting design makes very effective use of saturated bright colours. Changes from one location to another are achieved with near-magical speed, and the whole ballet, particularly in the second half, pulses with energy.
At the heart of the story lies a doomed romance. Edward is welcomed into the home of Peg Boggs, whose daughter Kim gradually grows fond of the strange newcomer. Last night Peg was danced by Kerry Biggin, whose every gesture spoke of open-hearted generosity. Peg’s daughter Kim was portrayed by Ashley Shaw, gradually turning from an initial hesitancy to wholehearted affection for Edward. Matters and emotions are made more complicated by the presence of Kim’s macho boyfriend Jim, portrayed last night with muscular assertiveness by Benjamin Barlow Bazeley. As Edward Scissorhands, Liam Mower touchingly conveyed the tragic arc of his journey from bewildered stranger through to local celebrity and, finally, to sad reject. Mower very skilfully shows how Edward’s physical confidence and emotional maturity develop in parallel, changing from the tottering child-like steps of a child to eventually achieving an adult mastery of fluid movement. He makes expressive use of those metallic fingers, whether hanging down in dejection, or splayed wide and high in elation. In a show that is by no means short of vivid, spectacular moments, two are especially memorable. The first is a fantasy sequence where Edward, now with human hands, dances with Kim in a garden of his own topiary bushes, all twelve of which join in. The other is their final pas de deux, performed around a magnificent ice sculpture he has created. This is a breathtakingly beautiful scene, danced last night with captivating lyricism.
Edward Scissorhands has a message to deliver, but it is far from sternly didactic. Shot through with beguiling warmth and humour, this is a thoroughly entrancing show.
★★★★☆ Mike Whitton, 6 March 2024
