The Tiger Who Came to Tea

Direct from London’s West End, this absolutely delightful musical adaptation of Judith Kerr’s children’s classic is just as magical on-stage as it is on the written page. The story of a tiger who comes to tea and eats all the food and drinks all the drinks including the water from the tap has been given a whimsical make-over by director/writer David Wood in a production that uses the traditional pantomime devices of audience participation, sing-a-long, and the classic “he’s behind you” gag.

The kids loved it from the moment Sophie, Daddy, and Mummy entered down the aisles smiling and saying hello to their captive moppet audience. They giggled when Daddy got his arms all mixed up putting on his jacket, laughed when the milkman forgot he was wearing bottles of milk on his back, and ooh’d and aah’d when the postman delivered a cute toy kitty to Sophie. But the biggest thrill of all came when the tiger sneaked his paw around the door and kept hiding behind Mummy and Sophie which allowed them to scream their heads off. The “he’s behind you” gag is as old as pantomime itself but it still works a treat as yesterday’s performance proved. The tiger also had a host of magical tricks up his sleeve (or should that be paw), from eating all the sandwiches, buns, and cake off the plates in one fell swoop with the plates instantly clean thanks to some trick plates and backstage cleverness.

Adult actress Abbey Norman brought oodles of personality to Sophie, likewise Jenanne Redman as Mummy, but the outstanding performer of the play was Benjamin Wells as the deliciously irascible but lovable tiger. Although he never uttered a word, his delivery of the character in a bright fluorescent orange-striped tiger suit was mischievous and quirky. It was a joy! Wells was rarely off-stage appearing also as a funny but loving Daddy, a vague Milkman and a near-sighted Postie.

Wood’s songs, of the nursery-rhyme type, were insanely catchy, the kitchen set was colourful and provided magical moments when food disappeared in the cupboards, and the choreography by Emma Clayton was simple but extremely effective. Perhaps it was a bit beyond the three-year olds to participate in “round” singing, but the performers never let it phase them carrying on belting their parts at the top of their lungs. The kids had constant beams of pleasure on their faces, and so did I. Children’s theatre should always be as good as this!

Peter Pinne