This musical incarnation of the classic story about a talking marionette has been made by many cooks: Michael Morpurgo took Carlo Collodi’s 19th-century original and remoulded it to tell Pinocchio’s story from the boy’s perspective. Simon Reade adapts that iteration for the stage, and Chris Larner adds songs on top. The result is an exemplar of how thrilling an old story can become in the right hands.
From the first gorgeous scene featuring a luminous cherry tree trunk wrapped around actors to signify the wood from which Pinocchio is forged, this production oozes carnivalesque energy and has an intimacy despite its big imagination. It packs in the drama to become an alchemical mix of music, movement, mischievous humour and quietly revolutionary puppetry.
Marc Parrett’s puppets are bewitching, and the actors perform through them so they seem truly animated. It has a magical effect, for children and adults alike. There is a coup de theatre when the whale which swallows Pinocchio (Jerome Yates, a likable geordie), comes roving out, lit up from inside, with a small-scale majesty reminiscent of My Neighbour Totoro.
Every aspect of the stagecraft is outstanding. Yoav Segal’s set design has autumnal foliage hanging across the sides of the stage like bucolic curtains, with a giant luminous moon above. Jonathan Chan’s lighting design has a good play of light and dark, and there is stunning use of musical percussion.
Larner’s songs have a novel, almost rap-like sound at times and Reade’s book is delightful in its blend of innocence and knowing as well as fizzing humour, matched by lovely physical comedy from the actors.
There is nothing of Disney’s twee approach to Pinocchio himself, and the production, co-directed by Indiana Lown-Collins and Elle While, reminds us there is so much more to this naughty marionette than his nose. He is still on his elaborate quest to become human, and his nose grows when he fibs, but this Pinocchio has a wayward, adventuring spirit, a susceptibility to become distracted, and the growing pains of a boy who does not fit in. He also experiences hunger and poverty.
The double act of the wily Fox (Afia Abusham) and dim Cat (Eddy Payne, hilarious) is one of many highlights, as are the Kermit-like Cricket (Fred Double) and the Carabiniere (Jacoba Williams). Whether puppet or human, these characters enthral and the seven-strong cast, switching between characters with lightning costume changes, are stupendous.
There are some moments when the show talks to the children in the audience and explains its lessons. That seems right for a story written instructively by Collodi about the value of education. But this is squarely a crossover show, for the child within the adult too. Simply glorious.
• At the Watermill theatre, Newbury, until 5 January
