Lyn Gardner 

The Boy Who Cried Wolf – review

A rubber-glove goose is on the loose in this magical retelling of Aesop's Fables, writes Lyn Gardner
  
  

Tom Wainwright and Lucy Tuck in The Boy Who Cried Wolf at Bristol Old Vic
Charming … Lucy Tuck and Tom Wainwright in The Boy Who Cried Wolf at Bristol Old Vic. Photograph: Tristram Kenton for the Guardian Photograph: Tristram Kenton/Guardian

If you don't know the name Sally Cookson yet, you will. Any unfamiliarity is almost certainly due to the fact that this gloriously inventive director creates theatre for children and families – work that remains absurdly undervalued. The Tobacco Factory's gorgeous, Olivier-nominated Cinderella, Travelling Light's How Cold My Toes, and the Old Vic's Peter Pan and Treasure Island all owed their magic to Cookson and her spirited blend of physical theatre, storytelling and music.

Her strengths – as well as the considerable talents of a cast of actor-musicians and composer Benji Bower – are on display in this slight but charming show, based on Michael Morpurgo's versions of Aesop's Fables. The piece is played on the street outside the Old Vic in a makeshift temporary theatre.

Many of the familiar stories are here, including a lovely version of The Goose That Laid the Golden Egg, which features a puppet goose constructed from a shopping bag, rubber gloves and salad servers. There's a comically endearing take on The Tortoise and the Hare, with a geeky tortoise and a hyperactive, harebrained rival. There are less well-known tales, too, including Belling the Cat, which boasts a neat cartoonish quality as a group of mice try to outwit a cat.

The storytelling is exemplary, and the DIY aesthetic – which nods to the stories' Greek origins – is strong. The show has a highly developed sense of fun and engages directly with the audience. That's particularly true of the title story, which is cleverly threaded throughout, rather than being told as a single segment. You may even have a chance to try bowling with sheep.

But however playfully they are staged, you can't escape the fact that these stories come with an improving message, rather than sustained narratives with fully developed characters. It makes for a performance that is rather too itsy-bitsy. The material simply doesn't match the wild, subversive power of Peter Pan or Treasure Island, which are full of adventure and escape from the confines of childhood.

Nonetheless, it's lively and at times ingenious. There are stand-out performances from Tom Wainwright as the stroppy teenager turned unwilling shepherd who sings a bluesy lament about the dullness of counting sheep; and from Lucy Tuck, who is terrific comic value in a number of roles. It's enjoyable, but maybe not quite as thrilling as running away with pirates.

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