Written by Jonathan O’Neill and Issac Savage

Directed by Stephen Whitson

Review by Dominic Corr

Dundee Rep

One of the classics, Jack and the Beanstalk, is the kind of tale that people seem born to understand. The cautionary tale of trusting strangers, of having hope, and the quintessential story of adventure: Dundee Rep’s Jack and the Beanstalk: A New Moosical is a bold, inventive festive treat that dazzles with its originality and West End polish, even if its darker tone and uneven musical numbers keep it from reaching the very top of the beanstalk.

There’s no denying that Dundee Rep has pulled out all the stops for its 2025 Christmas show. Written by Jonathan O’Neill and Isaac Savage, directed by Stephen Whitson, and featuring design by Kenneth MacLeod, this Beanstalk feels like a production with ambitions far beyond the regional stage. With a ten-strong ensemble of actor-musicians, original songs, and puppetry that captures the inner essence, the show is a feast for the senses. Yet, for all its spectacle, the production carries a surprisingly pessimistic streak that occasionally jars with its festive billing.

At the heart of the story isn’t the titular Jack, however, and the show is all the better for Caroline, the Highland cow gifted to Jack as a child. Played with powerhouse charisma by Suzie McAdam, Caroline is the true star of the show. McAdam’s performance is one of the finest on Scottish stages this festive season: her vocals soar, her comic timing is razor-sharp, and her ability to balance humour with genuine pathos in numbers like Udderly Alone is remarkable. Caroline’s journey – grief-stricken, resilient, and ultimately triumphant – anchors the production with emotional heft.

By contrast, Ronan O’Hara’s Jack is written with a pessimism that undermines his arc. Rather than the plucky dreamer audiences expect, this Jack is dour, self-absorbed, and slow to evolve. While O’Hara delivers a committed performance, the writing makes it difficult to root for him, and his eventual redemption feels unearned. It’s a bold choice, but one that risks alienating younger audiences who might struggle to reconcile Jack’s gloom with the fantastical optimism of the tale.

The supporting cast brings colour and energy: Laura Lovemore as Sherry Trott, Connor Going as the Mysterious Man, and David Rankine as Harper, the enchanted harp, all shine in their moments individually and often act as the necessary obstacles for narrative tension. It’s the farmyard trio, however, who steal much of the show’s comedy and fervour with a series of feather-capped numbers: Lucy Hutchison, Mairi Barclay, and Lorraine Graham are the jewels of the show as Hen(rietta), Truffles the pig, and Lady Fluffington III the Lady Llama. The petting zoo escape sequence, featuring puppets of trio, is a highlight. The puppetry, designed by MacLeod and directed by Stacey Mitchell, is inventive, bright, and full of character. The Highland cow puppet in particular is impossibly charming, and the visual storytelling here is among the most memorable of the season.

Musically, the show is ambitious. Savage’s score blends folk-inspired melodies with big ballads, and the actor-musician format gives the production a rich, live energy. At its best, the music elevates the drama; Udderly Alone is a showstopper, and the ensemble numbers brim with vitality. Yet not all the songs land: some tracks feel repetitive, and a few cow-pun-heavy lyrics veer into novelty. The unevenness prevents the score from achieving true greatness, though the ambition is undeniable.

Visually, the production is a triumph. Derek Anderson’s lighting and Tom Penny’s sound design create a world that shifts seamlessly from cosy parlour to towering beanstalk. The giant, voiced by Brian Cox, adds gravitas and humour, but is certainly distracting; his booming tones lend the production a cinematic quality. Combined with MacLeod’s set and puppets, the show feels expansive, inventive, and thoroughly professional.

Where the production falters is in tone. The narrative leans heavily into grief, loss, and pessimism, particularly in Jack’s journey. While Caroline’s resilience offers hope, the overall mood is darker than expected for a family Christmas show – nothing wrong with this, often the best ones have these tones, but the humour: slapstick, fart jokes, and Shakespeare-quoting chickens, does lighten proceedings, but the balance between festive fun and existential gloom is uneasy and occasionally unbalanced.

Dundee Rep deserves credit for ambition in adapting this, often simple, tale. This Beanstalk is no five-a-day pantomime; it’s a fully-fledged musical with original music, inventive visuals, and a central performance that could hold its own on any stage. Undeniably bold, inclusive, and memorable, Jack and The Beanstalk: A New Moosical is a West End-worthy festive spectacle with dazzling puppetry and a star-making turn from McAdam.

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