Pantomime

Jack and the Beanstalk

King’s Theatre, Edinburgh

Mary Brennan

three stars

IT IS always a challenge: how to stay a member of the Pantosphere – where time-honoured traditions regulate so much of the funny business – when you want to be future-forward and encourage free movement of new ideas and new talents.

At the King’s, Jack and the Beanstalk is trying to occupy a middle ground between the much-loved archetypes – enter Allan Stewart, Andy Gray and Grant Stott as Dame, Numpty and Baddie respectively – and the kind of techno-led gambits that increasingly nod towards cinematic special effects and a brand of insta-video audience participation that (hopefully) clicks with the “selfie” generation. Does it work? Sometimes – but that’s more to do with the flesh and blood talents on-stage, and the long-established, nicely mischievous, rapport between Stewart, Gray and Stott. All three know how to play friskily suggestive with a looming double entendre, while the nippy wee spoof on Sturgeon and Salmond is a brief reminder of panto’s satirical possibilities.

As one song follows another, and another, the already-skinny plot-line surrenders and goes back to the dressing-room. If the kitchen sink could hold a note, it would be here too, along with the cutely-costumed animals whose routine makes Daisy the Cow just an udder reminder of the original story. There’s no discernible character to the sweethearts either, more a case of Wham! Bam! “Me Jack, you Princess – let’s sing!” Luckily Greg Barrowman (Jack) and Rachel Flynn (Princess Apricot) seem to believe in love at occasional sight, otherwise there would be no need for a straggly Beanstalk to creep up the side of the proscenium arch, a disappointing specimen given the hydraulics animating other props. It’s big, brash and – sorry, Spirit of the Castle (Lisa Lynch) – short on magic and curiously devoid of charm. It’s Cinderella next year, folks, so here’s hoping green fingers are already tending the pumpkin.