Skip to main content

Beauty And The Beast

Edinburgh Playhouse
3 stars
It’s interesting that Disney’s stage version of their 1991 full-length cartoon (animated feature if you will) puts such store into the power of the imagination. Because, while bookworm heroine Belle may turn her spellbound horny beast captor on to lengthy afternoons in the library, onstage at least, the work’s pretty much all been done for us.

This lavish franchise has been doing the rounds for a good few years now, and its hi-tech mix of computerised scenery and flesh and blood recreations of its animated forbears, complete with extended song and dance routines, remain undoubtedly dazzling to many of the little princesses lapping it up in the stalls. Yet, for all the multi-dimensional appeal of its regally coloured purple hues, one can’t help but feel it should be put to bed awhile to freshen up.

Because, while there’s nothing inherently wrong here, too much of the merry dance between B and B looks done by rote. With a cast restricted by the one-dimensional impersonations they’re being asked to re-create, beyond the discipline required for such a display, this is unavoidable. There are, however, signs of life, not least from Ben Harlow, whose village hunk Gaston is gloriously akin more to Zoolander than Disney, while the slick ensemble run-through Be Our Guest looks somewhere between Busby Berkely and Alice In Wonderland.

As the lead gal, Ashley Oliver is sparky enough, though she does beg the question as to why all Disney heroines sound like they’ve been given elocution lessons by Julie Andrews. Despite such reservations, the flourishes and the occasional scarifying booms of the Beast’s amplified anger make this Beauty And The Beast infinitely preferable to a small-screen DVD.

The Herald, July 20th 2007

ends

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Losing Touch With My Mind - Psychedelia in Britain 1986-1990

DISC 1 1. THE STONE ROSES   -  Don’t Stop 2. SPACEMEN 3   -  Losing Touch With My Mind (Demo) 3. THE MODERN ART   -  Mind Train 4. 14 ICED BEARS   -  Mother Sleep 5. RED CHAIR FADEAWAY  -  Myra 6. BIFF BANG POW!   -  Five Minutes In The Life Of Greenwood Goulding 7. THE STAIRS  -  I Remember A Day 8. THE PRISONERS  -  In From The Cold 9. THE TELESCOPES   -  Everso 10. THE SEERS   -  Psych Out 11. MAGIC MUSHROOM BAND  -  You Can Be My L-S-D 12. THE HONEY SMUGGLERS  - Smokey Ice-Cream 13. THE MOONFLOWERS  -  We Dig Your Earth 14. THE SUGAR BATTLE   -  Colliding Minds 15. GOL GAPPAS   -  Albert Parker 16. PAUL ROLAND  -  In The Opium Den 17. THE THANES  -  Days Go Slowly By 18. THEE HYPNOTICS   -  Justice In Freedom (12" Version) 1. THE STONE ROSES    Don’t Stop ( Silvertone   ORE   1989) The trip didn’t quite start here for what sounds like Waterfall played backwards on The Stone Roses’ era-defining eponymous debut album, but it sounds

Edinburgh Rocks – The Capital's Music Scene in the 1950s and Early 1960s

Edinburgh has always been a vintage city. Yet, for youngsters growing up in the shadow of World War Two as well as a pervading air of tight-lipped Calvinism, they were dreich times indeed. The founding of the Edinburgh International Festival in 1947 and the subsequent Fringe it spawned may have livened up the city for a couple of weeks in August as long as you were fans of theatre, opera and classical music, but the pubs still shut early, and on Sundays weren't open at all. But Edinburgh too has always had a flipside beyond such official channels, and, in a twitch-hipped expression of the sort of cultural duality Robert Louis Stevenson recognised in his novel, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, a vibrant dance-hall scene grew up across the city. Audiences flocked to emporiums such as the Cavendish in Tollcross, the Eldorado in Leith, The Plaza in Morningside and, most glamorous of all due to its revolving stage, the Palais in Fountainbridge. Here the likes of Joe Loss and Ted Heath broug

Carla Lane – The Liver Birds, Mersey Beat and Counter Cultural Performance Poetry

Last week's sad passing of TV sit-com writer Carla Lane aged 87 marks another nail in the coffin of what many regard as a golden era of TV comedy. It was an era rooted in overly-bright living room sets where everyday plays for today were acted out in front of a live audience in a way that happens differently today. If Lane had been starting out now, chances are that the middlebrow melancholy of Butterflies, in which over four series between 1978 and 1983, Wendy Craig's suburban housewife Ria flirted with the idea of committing adultery with successful businessman Leonard, would have been filmed without a laughter track and billed as a dramady. Lane's finest half-hour highlighted a confused, quietly desperate and utterly British response to the new freedoms afforded women over the previous decade as they trickled down the class system in the most genteel of ways. This may have been drawn from Lane's own not-quite free-spirited quest for adventure as she moved through h