“Ballet Shoes” at the Olivier, National Theatre
Jane Edwardes on the South Bank
9 December 2024
Back in the day, little girls were said to divide into those who loved horses and those who loved ballet. And if it was the latter, then Noel Streatfeild’s 1936 classic Ballet Shoes was their bible. Is this still true? I don’t know. But as the tutu-clad cast practised their pliés and jetés in the audience before the show started, there were plenty of children eager to join in, creating a terrific buzz of anticipation. Decades later, the book is still in print, so no pressure on Kendall Feaver, who has adapted it for the National Theatre’s latest Christmas show. At least the production can enjoy the fact that, in bringing the book onstage, the story is being performed by actors and dancers who share with two of the heroines their love of theatre and dance, and have followed their own dreams.
Daisy Sequerra and Justin Salinger.
Photo credit: Manuel Harlan.
Frankie Bradshaw’s towering set makes the most of the Olivier stage. There’s wonderful detail in her portrayal of a large, crumbling house on the Cromwell Road in west London, which displays lit-up fossils on every floor. The house is owned by Justin Salinger’s Great Uncle Matthew, a fossil hunter who thinks in millions of years rather than decades. The eccentric, blustering GUM is the last person you would entrust a baby to, but over the years, in between his paleontological exploits, he returns with three abandoned babies to be looked after by his niece Garnie (Pearl Mackie) and the indomitable Nana. Pauline, Petrova, and Posy Fossil are very different girls who, reasonably supportive of each other and untrammelled by parental expectations, go on a journey of self-discovery.
When Garnie is forced to take in lodgers as the cheques from GUM become sparser, an exuberant dancer called Theo enters the house and, sensing that money is short, encourages Garnie to send the girls to stage school, where the occasional job – in panto perhaps – will mean that they are able to contribute to the household expenses. Poverty is relative in the book – there are various servants, stripped down to the unpaid Nana here – but not enough is made in this adaptation of the minute attention to every penny, and the girls’ pride in their contribution to the house’s finances. Two other lodgers arrive: Dr Jakes (Helena Lymbery), who encourages Pauline’s acting; and Jai (Sid Sagar), a car mechanic, who provides Petrova with an escape from her hated dance classes. Together they make up an unorthodox family determined to do their best for the children.
Daisy Sequerra, Yanexi Enriquez and Grace Saif.
Photo credit: Manuel Harlan.
It’s not clear why Grace Saif’s Pauline is so much more bad-tempered than her literary counterpart; it doesn’t add much to the evening. But gradually she discovers her talent for acting. Jakes takes her under her wing and encourages her to search for the emotions beneath the words. In a rare clumsy step, the adaptation misses the point when Pauline flounders on a film set before digging deeper and finding the right emotion. It’s not that she is bad initially, just dull. Yanexi Enriquez’s Petrova struggles with the tiny part of Mustardseed in an entertainingly futuristic production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, but soars eloquently above the audience when she is given the chance to fly like her heroines Amelia Earheart and Bessie Coleman. And then there’s Daisy Sequerra’s Posy, who is single-minded and ruthless in her determination to become the greatest of ballerinas.
While Posy is dedicated to ballet, the show itself celebrates all kinds of dance, especially when Nadine Higgin’s Theo exuberantly shows off her moves to the big band sound of Asaf Zohar’s music. Dancing is for everyone, even for those who don’t know their arabesques from their port de bras, as Jai proves strutting energetically across the stage in an attempt to win Garnie’s favour.
Justin Salinger must have felt that all his Christmases had come at once when he was offered the two roles of the eccentric GUM and the great Madame Fidolia. GUM is the imperialistic explorer, while Madame Fidolia, the head of the stage school, is a strong, mysterious figure swathed in furs to whom all the pupils make their obeisance. Petrova is initially convinced they are joining a cult. Salinger relishes the contrast between the two characters. In a poignant moment, Fidolia recalls her younger self fleeing the Russian revolution, a reminder that refugees are nothing new.
Katy Rudd’s gorgeous production is blessed with some rich performances and manages, rather like Operation Mincemeat, to hover between the past and the present. There are plenty of anachronisms and the men in tutus – especially those with a moustache – undermine any fidelity to the 1930s, as does Dr Jakes’s determination to be out and proud. Even so, it’s a very ancient car that Petrova gets to drive, and Jenny Galloway’s redoubtable Nana is very much of her period, a god-fearing woman with decided ideas about bringing up children, who is challenged as much by Jakes’s lesbianism as she is by the futuristic fairies.
Feaver’s adaptation is a little overlong, but otherwise it delivers on all fronts. Within the sumptuous packaging is a big-hearted story, enhanced by fantastic, expressive dancing. What more could one want of a Christmas show?
