Written by Paul Reakes

Directed by Derek Ward

Choreography by Mandy Black

Musical Direction by Barrie Simcock

Tickets from £15.00 (Con. available)

In closing their 80th year of performance, Edinburgh People’s Theatre hasn’t lost a touch of their spark and enthusiasm for performance and communal theatre.

Cinderella is told as a traditional pantomime, with all the bells and whistles audiences could want, and one which, while taking slight deviations from the story, isn’t shoe-horning in additional messages, musical numbers or plot points for the sake of things. It doesn’t rely on celebrity names or flashy gimmicks and instead puts faith in strong storytelling with some brilliantly timed comedy and farcical moments. Paul Reake’s writing is honest, an old-fashioned but lively Cinderella which leaves audiences grinning from ear-to-ear in an authentic, and often too undervalued, manner.

There are some welcome additions to the script offering a bit more context and expanse to the traditional (if straightforward) tale of Cinderella. Prince Charming is off to foreign lands, and the death of his father leads to a power vacuum filled by a greedy duke. Cinderella’s father remains alive, but the wicked stepmother is still on the scene. To expand the tale’s roster of characters to offer speaking roles to the entirety of the cast in some sharp or another, with an additional eight chorus performers, and two members of the ‘band’ (who often do the work of several). And yet, Derek Ward’s direction never threatens to become too gluttonous or spread-thin, with strong pacing up until the final moments, and energy and momentum kept afloat with Mandy Black’s creatively pleasant choreography.

Even though they occasionally slip into the background of their own tale, the curse of any Princess-orientated fairytale, Lynsey Spence’s Cinderella still holds its place, even when sharing the stage with such intense characters, and manages a few brilliant lines and comedic routines with Kevin Edie’s Buttons as Joanna Meiklejohn’s provides a suitably enthusiastic Prince Charming. Filling the quasi-dame role, Cinderella looks to have additional villains instead, but Morag Black’s Old Beggar Woman has a couple of tricks up their sleeve to conjure up some magic which matches up to the colourful costumes and Rob Fuller and Black’s lighting design.

Cinderella’s two wicked step-sisters are precisely that; wickedly funny, wickedly gaudy, wickedly entertaining. There’s no redemption here folks, just two terrifically well-performed baddies doing what baddies do best, as choreographer Mandy Black and Gemma Dutton take nothing but fierce relish in their villainy. From entering the Church Hill space and picking on the crowd, to their endless snipes and gags at anyone unfortunate enough to cross their path, the pair turn the dial well past eleven in delivering a terrific (and terrifying) gruesome twosome. But they aren’t alone in vying for our boos and hisses, as the antics of Mattie and Hattie often draw the ire of their mother, Baroness Beaujolais, played with a twisted sneer from Claire Morand.

Ditching the damehood for the panto-baddie leggings this year, Ward’s Duke of Verruca is as persistently unpleasant a panto-baddie as any on Scottish stages. Primmed and not quite as proper as he would like to believe, the Duke maintains control of the Kingdom following the King’s death. Ward, who also directs Cinderella, finds time to deliver a deliciously devious and cruel villain who deserves every ounce of hissing they receive, even if they have a spiffing taste in handkerchiefs. Ward works well with all onstage, but particularly well with Al Brown as the unfortunate-witted Archie, who aids the Duke in conning the townsfolk. With some satirical line deliveries which wouldn’t be amiss on Netflix’s The Crown, the pair’s antics make for some of the strongest comedic moments of silliness and slapstick.

Having a significant presence, and a very welcome one, are James Sutherland and Poppy Moore as the Duke’s envoys Nip and Tuck. The pair provide terrific stage presence and physical comedy and certainly go out of their way to ensure the audience is having a jolly time and getting into the swing of things. Making the use of the show’s bubbling choreography, the entire chorus (along with Jessica Howie’s minor role as the Messenger) channel such a bright sense of enjoyment as they perform to Barrie Simcock and Duncan Clark’s music, a two-piece band, which often feels like a fuller orchestra.

There’s plenty of panto for your pound, with the whole bag of tricks thrown in for good measure – we’re talking sing-a-longs and ghosties, audience participation and shout-outs, boos and hisses: frankly – the only thing missing is a panto-horse, and even then, there’s likely one kicking around out back. But even as one of the production’s biggest draws, it is also the only real significant drawback. Cinderella, with interval, has a nearly three-hour runtime which pushes the limits of the audience’s endurance – especially for a production aimed towards children and families. It’s only towards the final twenty minutes, just before the finale, where pacing begins to dip and some performers flag a little. Though the fact they maintain attention, never once dipping into being dull, is still a remarkably impressive feat for a nearly three-hour pantomime.

Only missing their annual pantomime due to a global pandemic, the determination and love for the genre emanates from Edinburgh People’s Theatre every year. The top quality of comedy and theatricality they bring to such a traditionally constructed pantomime makes Cinderella a must-catch for any looking to complete their pantomime bingo card. Rejecting some of the more contemporary attempts at injecting false enthusiasm into the genre, Cinderella presents itself as pure panto bliss, uncomplicated, and deeply enjoyable.

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