Review: The Snow Queen – Perth Theatre

It is pretty hard to stage a ‘traditional’ panto well. In an era where the genre is increasingly defined by the “corporately dominated pantosphere”—where producers rely on big names, big budgets, and loved, if recycled, banter—the art of storytelling often comes a distant second to spectacle.

Yet that is precisely what Perth Theatre have done with their joyfully daft take on Hans Christian Andersen’s The Snow Queen.

A Wintry Epic in Upper Donnachan

Sure, matters have been translocated from Denmark to the Scottish highland locale of Upper Donnachan, but the stakes remain high. Best friends Gerda and Kai (now McKay) still find themselves under threat from the heartless Snow Queen, with the former pursuing her bestie into wintry desolation to wrest him from enchantment. Writer, Director, and Dame, Barrie Hunter has stripped out Andersen’s overt Christian philosophy, but otherwise, the major emotional beats are firmly in place.

Indeed, where many modern pantos devolve into variety shows, the story is writ large across this production—supported, naturally, by heavy lashings of daft humour, fart jokes, and repurposed pop songs.

Hunter anchors proceedings as a cracking Dame. He plays Grannie Frannie McMannie (ho ho) with a keen awareness of the role’s absurdity, presiding over the local hall – the heart of village life. His favourite night? Thirsty Thursday. He’s also a dab hand with a song and dance, and deploys fart jokes with evident delight.

It is pretty hard to stage a ‘traditional’ panto well…Yet that is precisely what Perth Theatre have done with their joyfully daft take on Hans Christian Andersen’s The Snow Queen.

Heroes and Herders

Crucially, however, this is a panto where the heroes get to shine. Nina Gray and Stuart Edgar don’t just bring excellent voices and bonny faces; they get right into character. Gray’s Gerda is a convincing ‘can-do, will-do’ heroine, while Edgar transforms McKay into that most fearsome of things under the Snow Queen’s thrall: a miserable teenage boy. We believe in their friendship, and not just because of the BFF hats they wear wherever they go.

This emotional investment is aided by the pacing. The production allows enough time for the friendship to be established before whisking McKay away, ushering Gerda into an eventful, never boring, but unrushed adventure to find him. It lends proceedings a touch of the wintry epic, and ensures the show will entertain families all season long.

Beyond the central pairing, the supporting cast turn in great performances. Ewan Somers is an amiable clown as Upper Doonachan’s resident Shakespearean thesp Larry—a man prone to aborted monologues—while Julia Murray plays social media ‘influenc-err’ Gretel, forever trying to capture content to share with her ‘little petals’.

When the narrative pushes north, both actors showcase their versatility. Somers makes for a particularly daft reindeer, whilst Murray explores a library of silly laughs as his keeper, Herda. (Yes, Herda the herder—it’s panto, what do you expect?) Elsewhere, Rachel Campbell’s Flora McFauna is a sassy highlight, prone to capturing passers-by and turning them into flowers, whilst Robin Campbell leans joyfully into the absurdity of being a walking crow who comes to Gerda’s aid.

Polish and Pop-Mash-Ups

Such distinct performances are supported by a strong technical framework. Under Linda Stewart, the band sounds great, making a perky, theatre-filling sound without ever overpowering the action. Alan Penman’s soundtrack is equally robust; his deer-inclusive lyrical changes to Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin’, or mash-ups ranging through Chappell Roan, LMFAO, and One Direction, are carried off with aplomb.

Visually, Becky Minto’s solid, colourful set is a pleasure, augmented by projection visuals from Lewis Den Hertog that reduce the need for clutter. It is a production with a healthy cast, and the design does well to keep space for them all to dance, sing, or cry over their dead friend’s limp body.

Gray and Stuart Edgar don’t just bring excellent voices and bonny faces; they get right into character.

Kudos are due to the young company, who help make the opening pop-mash-up dance sequence bigger and better, whether tap-dancing as herds of red deer or squealing piteously as enchanted captives in a sorceress’s garden. Choreographer Chris Stuart Wilson has clearly done a lot of work to get the cast sharp; the group numbers have the polish that only comes with thorough rehearsal.

Of course, the engine of the piece is the villain. Lauren Ellis-Steele brings bags of presence and sass to her silvery robes. Terrifying she may not be, but she is still odious enough to deserve every boo and hiss, and she has the knack of goading the audience with peculiarly Scottish disdain. When she gets to sing, she earns every clap thanks to potent, soaring vocals.

The Verdict

You could argue it’s a wee bit safe, and that the finale lacks a true threat of an unhappy ending. (One of these days, someone will label me the ‘please scare the children’ critic, and it’ll be fair). However, that is not unique to Perth. By haring closer to the pantos which came before the corporate glitz, and doing it so well, they have produced a Snow Queen to be proud of.

All images: Snow Queen production images by Tommy Ga-Ken Wan