Disney's Aladdin at the Prince Edward makes you pine for panto - review
It’s an odd sort of family entertainment that makes a parent heartily glad he didn’t bring his kids along for the ride. But that’s precisely the relief I felt on seeing the latest big Disney musical arrive in town at the Prince Edward.
At 11 and 14, my son and daughter are, granted, swinging through the exit-gate of childhood. But where I have happily taken them (and would again) to see Disney’s The Lion King – the most successful entertainment “product” ever – there’s so little of that show’s fecundity of imagination here that the ideal target audience would seem to be much younger, and more easily impressed.
Most of the performances of Aladdin are taking place in the evening, however. What’s more, the show has, bizarrely, launched at the start of a new term and in high summer – as if to distinguish itself from your standard-issue Christmas treat, panto in particular.
Yet isn’t this opulent stage version of the 1992 film really just panto in disguise? Sure, there’s an original score instead of borrowed pop hits; yep, there’s no audience-participation, dodgy innuendos or slapstick. And we’re in a land of American accents. But at root it does exactly what the British pantomime does – takes an old folk-tale and drapes it in the tinsel of cheery comedy, cutesy romance, colourful designs and lively song and dance routines.
The movie’s big selling-point over and above its musical component – which won it two Oscars, for best score and best original song, “A Whole New World” – was Robin Williams’s freewheeling vocal contribution as the Genie. This whirling sandstorm of wisecracks and impressions brought something like sophisticated depth to the 2D shenanigans.
The star of the night here too, undoubtedly, is Trevor Dion Nicholas (formerly the understudy on the Broadway production, which has been running since 2014). In an evening where ethnicity is sketched with blithe unsubtlety – the Arabian setting of Agrabah abounds with scimitar-wielding brutes and curvy, modest maidens, a bit like a kindergarten vision of a caliphate – Nicholas strikes a welcome if jarring note of black, urban, and sunny-side-up authenticity.
Pizzazz oozing from what will go on to be increasingly sweaty pores, he does a droll bit of scene-setting, after which we wait an age for him to show his face again, summoned by the lamp-rubbing of a cave-trapped Aladdin (more brawn than brain in Dean John-Wilson’s athletic turn). In the meantime, there’s ample opportunity to see where the money has been spent: a department-store’s worth of costumes, a circus-load of performers. Little registers, emotionally, though. The combined talents of the constituent creatives (composer Alan Menken, lyricists Howard Ashman, Tim Rice and Chad Beguelin, director Casey Nicholaw) should have made Aladdin “fly” as a musical. But, for all the visual splendour, spry, yearning-filled lyrics and syrupy sounds, it barely rises above the generic; a cynic’s idea of Disney “magic” at its blandest.
The Genie’s big show-stopper Friend Like Me – a jazzy riot of infectious brio and trick-mustering showmanship that conjures the spirit of Las Vegas and hits the jack-pot in terms of hummability – will leave you heading for the interval ice-creams with a smile on your face. But aside from that number, you’re scrabbling in the dust for jewels.
There are some good gags and serviceable work from other leads, Jade Ewen’s plucky Jasmine and Don Gallagher’s cackling villain Jafar among them. The flying carpet hovers without a hitch. But you don’t need to be a patriotic nut to miss old Widow Twankey, Wishy-Washy and the time-honoured British slant on this tale. My honest advice, as a usually profligate dad? Save your shekels.
Aladdin is playing at the Prince Edward Theatre, London, until February 11, 2017. To book, visit Telegraph Tickets or call 0844 871 2118.