The Dreaming » 2006 » April
Apr 23
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Feature – TIME Europe magazine

From the May 1st TIME Europe:

An adult in one hand, a book to be signed in the other, the children troop into the theater to ask questions of a highly important nature. Their target is the writer Neil Gaiman, whose fantasy book for kids The Wolves in the Walls has just been made into a musical that opened in Glasgow last month and transferred to London’s Lyric Theatre for two weeks before going on tour in Scotland next month and England this fall. Gaiman explains to his young fans that the book was inspired by a nightmarish fantasy his daughter Maddy once had. The children are rigorous cross-examiners. “But from where exactly in her bedroom did the wolves appear?” a skeptical 8-year-old girl wants to know. Gaiman answers with not a moment’s hesitation: “A foot above her head and a little to the left.”

As the famed creator of entire comic-book universes, Gaiman knows the importance of detail – and it is his ability to commute between them and the real world that has expanded his fan base far beyond the fantasy-fiction clichés of teen goths and pimply geeks. Whether through film adaptations of his best-selling fiction, graphic novels, children’s books or screenplays, Gaiman is a hot commodity these days. Today he’s in London for just 24 hours to check on the progress of Wolves and visit the set of Stardust, the film version of his 1997 romantic fairy fantasy, which director-producer Matthew Vaughn (Layer Cake) is shooting with an all-star cast that stretches from Sienna Miller to Ricky Gervais. Because Vaughn was deep in screen tests, he and Gaiman only got to wave to each other across the set before the author had to leave. “In any kind of sane universe,” Gaiman says, “I would be hanging around on the set saying, ‘This is mine, this is cool.’”

Instead, in the morning, the British-born Gaiman will climb on a plane – where he’ll finish writing an article on Superman – for the Addams Family–style house near Minneapolis, Minnesota, where he has lived since 1992. There he will knuckle down to his screen adaptation of Charles Burns’ teen-horror, graphic-novel series Black Hole. Then, Gaiman must deliver the first of six issues of The Eternals, a resurrected Marvel Comics creation from the ’70s. Oh, and he also needs to finish a book of short stories, as well as The Graveyard Book, a tale of an orphan child being raised by dead people. In his spare time, he may swing by Los Angeles to see how Roger Zemeckis’ animated version of Beowulf, for which Gaiman rewrote the oldest epic in the English language, is coming along.

Isn’t that too much to juggle?

Gaiman, jet-lagged but engaged, rocks one hand from side to side in answer. “I’m pushing it,” he admits. “Right now is the first time I’ve ever looked around and thought, ‘That’s not sane.’”

Indeed, Gaiman’s name has become such a seal of approval that he’s just realizing he won’t be able to accept all the projects he’s offered. It wasn’t always that way. Although The Sandman, Gaiman’s 1989-96 series of comic books about a family of flawed immortals, has sold more than 7 million copies, the mainstream media tended to be sniffy. Not that it bothered Gaiman: “Comics are a medium that gets mistaken for a genre, where I could do horror or detective stories, spy fiction or anything I wanted and nobody noticed that I was not staying in my box.”

As imaginative fiction went big time in the late ’90s, it became clear that Gaiman had long since left any box. His credentials as a bankable novelist grew with each title from Stardust (1998), through his epic of warring divinities American Gods (2001), to last October’s Anansi Boys, which debuted at No. 1 on the New York Times’ adult best-seller list. In 1996, Gaiman, with longtime friend and illustrator Dave McKean, wrote The Day I Swapped My Dad for Two Goldfish, his first children’s book. He had already begun work in 1992 on Coraline, a seriously spooky novella about a girl’s journeys into a parallel world where her parents have buttons for eyes, ghosts of dead children need help freeing their souls, and rats sing. But after looking at one chapter, Gaiman’s publisher deemed it unpublishable. “He told me there was no market for a book aimed at both children and adults, let alone a horror fantasy,” Gaiman recalls. Coraline was finally published in 2002, after Harry Potter and Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events had squashed that theory. A $70 million animated film version by Henry Selick (James and the Giant Peach) is set to hit cinemas in 2007.

Gaiman’s first notable movie work was to rewrite the script of Japanese director Hayao Miyazaki’s Princess Mononoke for an American audience. That was widely applauded, though last year’s MirrorMask, which he wrote and McKean animated, was a stylish but failed experiment that could take years to recoup even its measly $4 million investment. For his own novels, Gaiman is happy to leave the screen adaptation to someone else. “It’s rather like having to barbecue your own baby,” he says. “I’m sure the author of Beowulf would be appalled by what I’ve done.” Nonetheless, for his first foray into theater, Gaiman did agree to rework Wolves in the Walls‘ 2,300 words himself, adding lyrics to what the National Theatre of Scotland is promoting as “a musical pandemonium” – a less daunting description than “a modern opera for families with young children.” But it’s still a daring debut for a flag-flying company that just launched itself without a theater or a permanent troupe to call its own. It’s already in talks to bring Wolves to the U.S. next spring.

Staged with London’s Improbable theater company and its director/designer Julian Crouch, whose junk opera Shockheaded Peter was a transatlantic smash last year, Wolves springs thrillingly to life onstage, lifting McKean’s scribbled and cut-and-paste illustrations straight off the page and onto the set. The music by Nick Powell gives fun – occasionally funky – support and the whole production rests confidently on Gaiman’s slim but compelling story: A little girl named Lucy, her jam-making mother, tuba-playing father and computer-obsessed brother all must face the consequences when Lucy’s dreaded wolves pour out of the walls and take over the house. The fact that they turn out to be not creatures of the dark but rather hooligan wolves who break things and get jam and popcorn everywhere makes for plenty of slapstick fun. But it’s also a poignant fable about dealing with fears of the unknown – a place about which children and their parents will always have questions and Gaiman is never at a loss for an answer.
–Michael Brunton



Interview – Guardian

From the April 1st Guardian:

Neil Gaiman was born in Hampshire in 1960. He was a journalist before becoming a graphic novelist, and his breakthrough came with The Sandman, a hugely successful cartoon strip. In 2001, he produced the bestselling adult novel American Gods. He recently published a new adult novel, Anansi Boys. His children’s book, The Wolves In The Walls, has been adapted for the stage and is on tour until May 20. He is married, has three children and lives in Minneapolis

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Reading under a tree on a summer’s day.

What is your greatest fear?

Something dreadful but unspecified happening to my children.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?

I’m utterly disorganised and I wish I wasn’t.

What makes you depressed?

Not writing. I get moody and roody and irritable if I’m not making stuff up.

What has been your most embarrassing moment?

School – it was a long moment, but an embarrassing one.

What is your greatest extravagance?

Buying books I’ll never read, in the vague hope that if I’m stranded on a desert island I’ll have remembered to pack a trunk with unread books.

What is your most treasured possession?

My iPod – the idea of it, having all my music when I need it, rather than the rather battered object.

What is your favourite smell?

November evenings: frost and leaf-mould and woodsmoke. The smell of coming winter.

What is your favourite book?

A huge, leather-bound, 150-year-old accounts book, with 500 numbered pages, all blank. I keep promising myself I’ll write a story in it one day.

What is your fancy dress costume of choice?

Pirate.

What is your guiltiest pleasure?

Wasting time.

What is your greatest regret?

I wish I’d enjoyed the journey more, rather than worried about it.

What single thing would improve the quality of your life?

Time. Ten-day weeks, six-week months, 20-month years. Things like that.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

My children.

What keeps you awake at night?

Silence.
–Rosanna Greenstreet



Feature – Time Out

From the 5th April Time Out London:

When I started researching graphic novelist Neil Gaiman for this article, I felt as if I’d stumbled on a huge party to which I’d never been invited before. Certainly his name had lurked in the hinterland of my mind, but somehow I’d never found out quite how famous he was. I just hadn’t got into the right kind of books – though I’d dabbled in Terry Pratchett’s fantasy fiction at university, I hadn’t inhaled, and despite one boyfriend trying to interest me in graphic novels, I’d never gone all the way. Yet the prolific author spends as much of his life on top of the New York Times’ bestseller list as most people do in their kitchens, counts Norman Mailer and Stephen King among his fans, and has such actors as Anthony Hopkins, Angelina Jolie, and Robert De Niro working on films either scripted by him or inspired by his writing.

If Gaiman were in a children’s book, he would cut quite a sinister figure with his inky black wardrobe and mass of dark unkempt hair. From an adult perspective, by contrast, his look is often – aptly – compared to that of a rock-star. It is, however, the children’s book view of the world that brings me to his Soho-based hotel room to talk about the National Theatre of Scotland’s first production. The company – which has already established its rebellious nature by declaring it will have no building as a base – has collaborated with Improbable Theatre to turn Gaiman’s The Wolves in the Walls into a piece of theatre gloriously described as ‘a musical pandemonium’.

No kilts have been burnt in protest that the National Theatre of Scotland hasn’t kicked off with something more, well, obvious. Yet apart from the fact that wolves became extinct later in Scotland than England, there’s no striking reason why artistic director Vicky Featherstone should have turned to the work of the Minnesota-based, southern English-born Gaiman. A lot of it seems to have been instinct – ‘Both Vicky and Julian (Crouch of Improbable) had run into the novel independently through their children, and loved it,’ Gaiman relates. ‘We met in a hotel lobby on a wet Novembery day so we could talk about them adapting it, and I knew straight away that I absolutely trusted them.’

Gaiman asserts he has always enjoyed collaborating more than working alone. Throughout his career he has gone into creative partnership with armies of artists: not least in his most famous adult work, The Sandman- a mythically rich, literary reference-strewn comic series which has led Stephen King to describe him as ‘a pretty awesome head … a treasure house of story’. Yet the artist with whom he truly seems to have a rich alchemical pact is Dave McKean – whose illustrations in The Wolves in the Walls evoke a fantastical gothic nightmare world. ‘We’ve been working together for 20 years which is kind of scary,’ laughs Gaiman. ‘I love Dave because he always surprises me.’

Gaiman, you suspect, is a man who lives for surprise, revelling in the serendipitous absurdities thrown up by the creative process. He relates with delight the point in rehearsals when ‘Somebody said “What if the wolves all sounded like Tom Waits?” All of a sudden you’ve got five people singing like Tom Waits, and that’s not a feeling of pleasure that I’ll ever get from reading something I’ve written.’ Emphasising his antipathy to working alone, he claims that when he’s proofing galleys for his books, ‘Somewhere during that second galley read I’ll think “I never want to read this book again, I hate the author.” It’s like an architect could never look at the plans they’d drawn for a house for pleasure, but you could walk through the finished house and say “This is a beautiful place.”‘

If the ego’s there, Gaiman certainly conceals it well. He even attributes authorship of Wolves in the Walls to his daughter Maddy, who, aged four, had a nightmare where wolves took over their house. ‘The nearest I could ever come to that (as a child) was my conviction that there were tigers under the bathtub. It meant that I had to be out of the bath by the time the last of the water went down with a faint roaring noise.’

Addicted to Norse and Egyptian mythology from the age of seven, Gaiman seems never to have lost his preference for mythological fantasy over reality. When his work’s being made into film, however, he confesses to suffering a certain guilt that ‘something that took you five seconds to think up, can take 40 people several 17/18 hour days to make.’ Currently Matthew Vaughn’s directing a star-studded adaptation of his book Stardust, which includes a flying pirate ship. Gaiman reveals he finds it a much bigger deal seeing this ship built ‘than the idea that Robert De Niro’s going to be acting on it’.

Gaiman’s work is being adapted everywhere: currently Robert Zemeckis is directing a high-tech version of Beowulf, co-scripted by Gaiman, and starring Anthony Hopkins and Angelina Jolie. Yet Gaiman’s equally excited by the blatantly low-tech version of The Wolves in the Walls. ‘The biggest difference between film and theatre is that the audience is doing the work – they’re building it all in their heads. It’s cooler.’ He reflects for a second, then concedes ‘I still don’t know how Julian’s going to get elephants on stage.’
–Rachel Halliburton



Stardust (Film) – News

From the 22nd April Aberdeen Press and Journal:

Hollywood came to the Highlands yesterday when several A-list stars were filming scenes for a new blockbuster movie.

Michelle Pfeiffer as well as several British stars, including Sienna Miller and Rupert Everett, are shooting the scenes for Stardust near Kinlochewe in Wester Ross.

But Robert De Niro, who was rumoured to be filming this week, will not be visiting the Highlands as all his scenes are to be studio-based.

A 200-strong team of camera crews, make-up artists, lighting experts and security men have set up temporary home in the Kinlochewe area and beyond, bringing an early business boost to local accommodation and eateries.

The stars, who also include Claire Danes and Charlie Cox, were filming at Coulin Estate, between Kinlochewe and Torridon yesterday, but security men stopped anyone getting anywhere near the celebs.

The cast are to be filming in the Kinlochewe Village Hall today before heading to Skye this afternoon.

Scenes are to be shot at the Quiraing, an unusual rock formation on the island which was the setting for a fight scene involving Sean Connery in the film, Highlander.

The celebrities are expected to leave the area next week but will return to the Highlands next month to shoot more outdoor scenes.

The £50million movie is being directed by Mathew Vaughn and is based on the critically-acclaimed 1997 novel by Neil Gaiman.

Vaughn fell in love with the area after attending Madonna and Guy Ritchie’s wedding at Dornoch Cathedral and nearby Skibo Castle in 2000.

Local businesses in the area say all the activity is great news for them.

The Hollywood cast are thought to be staying at Loch Torridon Country House Hotel, but a spokeswoman for the hotel said they did not wish to make any comment yesterday.

At Kinlochewe Hotel, where some of the crew were staying, a spokeswoman said: “So far it’s had a very positive impact. I think the film people are staying at most of the accommodation in the area.

“I think it will put Kinlochewe on the map. When you look at Hamish Macbeth which was filmed in Plockton and even Local Hero (Pennan and Morar), they still bring benefits to the areas where they were filmed. We hope when the film comes out, people will go and see it and then want to come and see where it was filmed.”

Craig Duffield, manager at the Ledgowan Lodge Hotel, Achnasheen, where members of the film crew are staying, said: “It’s very good for the area. To have any kind of film here is great and it brings good publicity.”
–Eilidh Davies



From the 21nd April Scottish Daily Record & Sunday Mail:

The Highlands are being turned into the Hollywood hills for Tinseltown’s latest blockbuster.

Robert De Niro and Michelle Pfeiffer are among a galaxy of A-list actors descending on a tiny, Highland village to star in fantasy flick Stardust.

British stars Sienna Miller and Rupert Everett also have leading roles in the film.

Actress Claire Danes arrived at Inverness Airport yesterday, while the rest of the stars were expected last night.

A 200-strong army of I camera crews, make-up artists, I lighting experts and security I men have set up camp in Wester Ross, ready for the shoot.

Other scenes are expected to be filmed on Skye in the coming weeks.

The pounds 50million movie, which is being directed by Matthew Vaughn, is based on the critically acclaimed 1997 novel by Neil Gaiman.

The Office creator Ricky Gervais is also understood to have a part.

Vaughn, whose credits include British thriller Layer Cake, said: “I am delighted to be able to work with such a stellar cast in bringing the magic of Stardust to the screen.”

Sean Barclay, a film location scout who worked on TV show Monarch Of The Glen, recommended the location to the director as the ideal spot for the Victorian romp.

Vaughn, 42, who fell in love with Scotland when he was Guy Ritchie’s best man at his Highland wedding to Madonna in December 2000, then made trips to the area to decide on exact locations.

Locals watched in amazement this week as their caravan park was transformed into the movie-maker’s very own home-from-home.

The marquees sprang up overnight and a fleet of more than 20 box vans and lorries carrying millions of pounds worth of filming equipment caused long tailbacks.

Shopkeepers, hoteliers and B&B owners are delighted their village was chosen for the fantasy tale.

Every available bed within 50 miles of the location has been reserved for the crew and the small number of restaurants in the area have been fully booked for the past two days.

B&B owner Mary McNee said business had been booming since the filmmakers arrived.

The 56-year-old said: “It’s always very quiet after the Easter break but this has been a real windfall for us.

“All the crew members are really polite and have been great with us. They must have a bottomless budget because the amount of money they are spending is astronomical.”

Set in the sleepy English village of Wall, Stardust tells the story of a young man, Tristan – played by Casanova star Charlie Cox – who is on a quest to win the heart of his beloved, Victoria, played by Miller.

Tristan’s adventure takes him into a fantasy world where he faces a witch, Lamia, played by Pfeiffer, and fearsome pirate Captain Shakespeare – De Niro.

Celia Stevenson, of Scottish Screen, said: “A lot of very hard work has gone into getting the film here.

“It will be absolutely marvellous for the industry. It will provide a real shot in the arm.”
–Lachlan Mackinnon and James Moncur



From the 21st April Daily Mail:

Billie Whitelaw, Peter O’Toole, Ricky Gervais, Henry Cavill (a recent Bond hopeful), Mark Strong, Jason Flemyng, Nathaniel Parker, Dexter Fletcher and Kate McGowan, who have joined Michelle Pfeiffer, Robert De Niro, Sienna Miller, Claire Danes and Charlie Cox in Matthew Vaughn’s fantasy adventure film Stardust, which is shooting in Scotland and at Pinewood studios. It is based on Neil Gaiman’s novel about (among other things) a young man, a 400-million-year-old star (of the planetary sort) in human form, a wicked witch, greedy royals, and a cross-dressing pirate.



Clippings

The March 16th / Spring 2006 print edition of Apex Science Fiction & Horror Digest and Cemetery Dance #54 (also print) both have new interviews with Neil.



Not sure we’ve linked to this interview in New Review done with Peter Murphy, but it is relatively recent, as is this Wired article/interview done with Adam Rogers, which gets the audience that showed up at the 92nd St Y wrong but may have the ‘future’ of comics correct.



Steve Rogerson posted the following to the Yahoo Group:

For those who weren’t at Eastercon in Glasgow and haven’t heard elsewhere, Orbital won the bid to host the 2008 Eastercon.

It will be held at the Radisson Edwardian Hotel at Heathrow from 21st to 24th March 2008.

Our author guests of honour will be:
Neil Gaiman
Tanith Lee
China Mieville
Charles Stross

and our fan guest of honour will be:
Rog Peyton

The membership rate for the full weekend is £35, but only if you book quickly. It rises to £45 on 1 June 2006 and then again on 14 April next year. You can book online on our web site:
http://www.orbital2008.org

and there is no extra charge for booking by credit card. Details of other membership rates are also on the web site. And if you are a bit nervous about booking this far in advance, we do offer a refund minus £5 if you cancel before the end of January 2008.



According to Publishers Weekly, The Neil Gaiman Reader, a collection of articles and essays on Neil’s work edited by Darrell Schweitzer will be featured at the Wildside Press booth at Book Expo America. More information on the book is available at Amazon.

Publishers Weekly also reported that Fantagraphics The Sandman Papers, a collection of criticism and essays about the series edited by Joe Sanders, debuted at Alternative Press Expo in early April.


The Fort Worth Star-Telegram reports that included in the Box Theater‘s 2006 schedule is Weird Tales, which includes theatrical adaptions of stories from Edgar Allan Poe, Ray Bradbury and Neil Gaiman.



BBC News reports that UK users of Sony PSP can download an arts magazine called ICA – The Show which includes a Mirrormask featurette.



The current (April 2006) edition of Opera News features an interview with Stephin Merritt, who is working on a musical adaption of Coraline.

Apr 23
icon1 lucy_anne | icon2 Lore | icon4 10:25 pm| icon3No Comments »

Wolves in the Walls (Theater) – Reviews

From the 23rd April Sunday Times:

The Wolves in the Walls. Lyric Hammersmith ****

As well as being an entertaining piece of new theatre, this adaptation of Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean’s children’s story is an exciting new departure for British theatre.

This is the first show from the National Theatre of Scotland, a “virtual” theatre in that it has no building of its own, and exists only through the work it makes. Here, its artistic director, Vicky Featherstone, has teamed up with Julian Crouch of Improbable Theatre to produce an enchanting “musical pandemonium” that is a delight to the eye as well as the ear, and touches the heart. Told in an exotic cartoon form, the story is simple enough. This is a happy family, but father is so busy playing the tuba, mother making jam and elder brother with his PlayStation that they are oblivious to Lucy’s night fears. Seeking attention, she says that there are wolves in the walls, and in a magical transformation, these creatures, cuddly and menacing by turn, are realised before our eyes.

It is a short show, suitable for seven years upwards, full of promise for the future.
–Robert Hewison



From the 18th April Telegraph:

Here’s a real cracker of a family show, and one that is likely to delight parents even as it deliciously scares their offspring. It’s full of ingenious theatrical magic, sudden shocks, great jokes and highly hummable songs, with a faintly trippy atmosphere that will particularly appeal to retired hippies.

The Wolves in the Walls is a co-production between the infant National Theatre of Scotland, whose first stage show this is (the company began operations with a series of site-specific pieces) and Improbable, those imaginative pioneers of theatre without frontiers.

It’s in the same tradition as Shockheaded Peter, though not quite as terrifying as that nightmarish parade of gory deaths, and is recommended to anyone over seven who’s not easily scared.

The Wolves in the Walls began life as an outstanding graphic novel by Neil Gaiman, with witty, disconcerting illustrations by Dave McKean. Directors Vicky Featherstone and Julian Crouch (the latter is also responsible for the splendid not-quite-real designs) remain admirably faithful to the original.

The action is set in a detached house that at first glance couldn’t be more ordinary, the home of Dad, a tuba player, Mum, who makes loads of jam, our heroine Lucy and her brother who is addicted to computer games.

Everyone is so busy with their particular obsessions that Lucy seems unhappily neglected – even when she leaps into her father’s lap, he keeps playing the tuba – and we wonder if the wolves might just be the product of an over-active imagination and a bid for attention.

But there are strange crackling, crunching noises coming from the walls, and though the rest of the family pooh-poohs Lucy’s fears, one night all hell breaks loose, as the wolves take over the house and the family has to seek refuge in the garden.

The wolves themselves have been brilliantly designed by Crouch, horrible matted, mangy things with huge mouths with sharp teeth and horrid dangly limbs. They are puppets but you can’t always tell where the puppet ends and the operator begins.

Yet, though everyone says “it’s all over if the wolves come out of the walls”, they aren’t quite as ferocious as they seem, turning out to be naughty rather than downright nasty, though they make a terrific mess of the house as they play video games, take the microwave for a walk on a lead and learn the art of scratch DJ-ing.

But then the family turns the tables, taking up residence in the walls themselves before a climactic battle-royal at the end, deliriously choreographed by Featherstone in a manner reminiscent of a great, silent film comedy.

There are some terrific songs and incidental music by Nick Powell, ranging from folksy stuff for Mum (Cora Bissett), classical motifs for Dad (the actor Iain Johnstone appears to be playing a euphonium rather than a tuba, but he plays it pretty well), and a hilarious air-guitar rock sequence for the brother (Ryan Fletcher).

As Lucy, Frances Thorburn gives a lovely performance of solemn concern and resourceful pluck – she actually returns to the wolf-infested house to rescue her toy pig – capturing all the anxiety and loneliness that can blight childhood. And in the final moments she springs a delightful surprise that it would be an absolute sin to reveal. Great stuff.

Until Apr 29 (tickets 0870 050 0511); then touring Scotland.
–Charles Spencer



From the 18th April Evening Standard:

It has to be a worry when a piece of theatre with a 75-minute running time starts to drag. For although there is much to admire in this “musical pandemonium” co-created by the fledgling National Theatre of Scotland and Improbable, the team behind Shockheaded Peter, there is a limit as to how long style can hold out over substance.

There is an inescapable sense of the source material – the graphic children’s book of the same name by the cult writer/illustrator team of Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean – being stretched to breaking point, and then being given an extra tweak. The book’s premise is startlingly simple: young Lucy, who lives in domestic harmony with Mum, Dad, older brother and beloved stuffed toy pig, believes that there are wolves in the walls of their house.

Nonsense, say the others.

But since when have adults ever known anything?

Co-directors Vicky Featherstone and Julian Crouch oversee a largely sung production that works best when it gently and sweetly extols the virtues of family and domesticity. Yet there is also awkwardness, not least in the fact that, until the suitably scruffy, scraggy, shaggy wolf puppets make an appearance, the job of four of the eight cast members seems to be that of lugging bits of the set about.

The tremendously youthful looking Frances Thorburn, with her bright, sharp stare and clear singing voice, makes Lucy an engaging central focus and the voice of reason when Mum (Cora Bissett) and Dad (Iain Johnstone) are distracted by their jam-making and tuba-playing. Yet the wol ves of tricksiness have indubitably managed to slip into the supporting walls of this piece, meaning that one firm push would see the whole atmospheric creation collapse into rubble.
–Fiona Mountford



From the 17th April Times:

Lyric, Hammersmith. ***

If you thought the new National Theatre of Scotland would come into being with an adaptation of Ivanhoe launched with a blast of bagpipes in some tartan-carpeted building in Edinburgh, you thought diametrically wrong. It’s not a building at all, but a peripatetic company or set of companies that was launched in March with ten site-specific shows in towns from Lerwick to Dundee and has followed them with this surreal adaptation of a children’s book by Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean: a “musical pandemonium” for six-pluses that’s now on a visit from Glasgow to West London.

“The house where I live is just like any other house,” sings Frances Thorburn’s sweet little Lucy, but does exaggerate just a bit. Even in Scotland there can be few dads who, like hers, spends his days playing the tuba and imagining himself a maestro, and not so many mums who, again like Lucy’s, do nothing but stir jam and make music by biffing dangling jampots. But they’re conventional enough to disbelieve the girl when she declares that the rumbling noise coming from the walls is made by wolves, not mice or rats or bats, as her family thinks.

Already the production -by the NTS’s artistic director, Vicky Featherstone, in collaboration with the well-named Improbable Theatre -is scoring pretty high for inventiveness. Here’s a cute little house in which chairs disappear through the ceiling, bits of landing and corridor walk about, and cartoons are projected on the self-same walls from which, eventually, some splendid wolf-puppets do emerge: raggety, grinning, gaping creatures who proceed to chase out the family, eat its CDs and play silly games, like dressing up as Red Riding Hood and whizzing about on scooters.

You could, I suppose, say that these lupine goofballs are Freudian versions of the weasels who commandeer Toad Hall. Some of us have reptiles or killer-spiders lurking behind the wallpaper that separates the conscious from the subconscious, and some, like prepubescent Lucy, have big, hairy, leering wolves. A pity, though, that they aren’t scarier. In a Q and A section in the programme the reply to “Do wolves make good pets?” is an incontrovertible “No, wolves make very poor pets for the average person.” Well, your average Smith, Jones or McTavish would find these particular wolves no more menacing or messy than your average labrador.

I thought the story got a little becalmed at times, but there’s no doubting the imaginative quirkiness on offer. If ever the National Theatre of Scotland does get round to Ivanhoe, expect trombones, shadow-puppets, strobe lighting and actors on stilts.

Box office: 0870 0500511
–Benedict Nightingale



From the 9th April Daily Telegraph:

Lucy is a little girl who hears scary noises about the house. Her jam-making Mum, tuba-playing Dad and electronic-game-playing big brother are too busy to pay attention to her. Until, that is, a pack of slobbering, big-toothed, wide-jawed, lantern-eyed wolves erupts into the family home and chases them all into the garden.

The Wolves in the Walls is a very scary children’s book written by Neil Gaiman and illustrated by Dave McKean. But the National Theatre of Scotland’s musical adaptation (co-produced with Improbable, the company behind the cult hit Shockheaded Peter) has, although it follows the plot, tamed the terrors. Perhaps this was a wise decision in a show intended for children from the age of seven – after all, there’s a fine line between thrilling your audience and scaring it to tears.

The first part of the show is short on suspense but strong on stunning stage effects. Co-directors Julian Crouch and Vicky Featherstone have co-opted the set into the choreography of the action – walls waltz across the stage and a chair dances to the tune of the tuba. It’s all very impressive, but emotionally flat. It’s not until the wolves finally come out of the walls that the show really takes off. Nick Powell’s score lifts it out of blandness, the puppet wolves are frightening and funny, chases are satisfyingly cartoonish, and the ending is a happy one: the wolves are ousted and the family returns to normality. Boring, normality, but then Lucy hears noises in the walls: they sound like elephants …

‘The Wolves in the Walls’ tours to the Lyric Theatre, Hammersmith, London, April 12-29; Perth Theatre, May 3-8; Adam Smith Theatre, Kirkcaldy, May 12, 13; Gaiety Theatre, Ayr, May 18-20
–Clare Brennan



From the 5th April Indpendent:

The essence of Neil Gaiman’s cult picture book The Wolves in the Walls is that like monsters under the bed, forgotten childhood terrors are only a darkened room away. What works on the heavily illustrated page, however, is not so easy to transfer to the stage, but this, it seems, is just the kind of high-risk venture which the new National Theatre for Scotland is looking for. Their “Musical Pandemonium”, co-produced with the ever-inventive Improbable Theatre, has all the hallmarks of a bold statement of intent that strikes just the right note between edginess and populism.

Co-directors Vicky Featherstone and Julian Crouch tap into the surreal waking dream of Gaiman’s novel, building it into a nightmare of terrifying, irrational proportions.

Lucy – an excellent Frances Thorburn – is bored. With a tuba-playing dad, a Martha Stewart of a mum, and a video-game-obsessed teenage brother, her only companions are favourite toy Pig Puppet and the four walls. But all games stop when she hears wolves thronging behind the wallpaper.

As Lucy draws on the walls, video projections trace out her scary imaginings in metre-high scribbles of steely-toothed wolves. Dad says it’s mice’ Mum says it’s rats. Only little girls hear wolves. But as everyone ominously says, “When the wolves come out of the walls, it’s all over.”

Gaiman’s picture book has been deftly re-imagined on an ever-changing set inspired by book illustration and animation. The first 20 minutes are perhaps a little stilted, but as soon as the hessian puppet wolves emerge snarling and howling from their wallpapered confinement, the dream-scape suddenly becomes utterly convincing.

The lupine comedy, brilliantly realised by skilful puppeteers, heightens as the rampant wild wolves of the walls become domesticated, from middle-class lair-makers to break dancing teen wolves. And beneath it all is a dark undertow of family dislocation, fear of the unknown and protection of one’s own. As the wolves cower back into the walls, there is an uncomfortable suggestion that we, like Lucy, will always be able to conjure up new “threats”. What’s the time, Mr Wolf? It’s always dinner time.–Sarah Jones



From the 5th April Financial Times:

The best aspect of this co-production between the National Theatre of Scotland and Improbable is that it creates an air of convincing wonderment and menace. Such perfect pitching alone marks the play as a winner. Younger theatregoers gasp at the macabre frights and slapstick humour, while grown-ups can enjoy a convergence of fine performances, the subtle ingenuity of the set design and a lightheartedly evocative live musical score.

Adapted from the picture book by the author Neil Gaiman (who added lyrics for the songs) and the illustrator Dave McKean, The Wolves in the Walls has a simple fairytale plot. Young Lucy can hear wolves lurking in the walls of her home, to the ignorance of her parents and air-guitar-playing older brother. They speculate the noises might be mice or bats, adding fearfully that if there are wolves in the walls, and they do come out, “it’s all over”. Of course the wolves do come out and the family must flee, but the show is not as ominous as this suggests. There are tensely thrilling moments – as when Lucy returns to retrieve her toy from the jaws of a sleeping wolf – but also passages of pleasing physical humour, when the oafish wolves try to get to grips with modern appliances.

The wolves themselves are expertly brought to life by three puppeteers, who threaten to steal the show. Yet Cora Bissett is magnetic as the jolly Mum, moving between speech and song as she prepares her jam, while Ryan Fletcher gives a grandstanding turn as Lucy’s show-off Brother. Iain Johnstone’s tuba- playing Dad and Frances Thorburn’s measured Lucy add quality to the show.

This flagship first full production of the National Theatre of Scotland (NTS’s artistic director Vicky Featherstone co-directs) is a rich piece of storytelling for all ages.
–David Pollock



From the 2nd April Observer:

“If the wolves come out of the walls, it’s all over.”

Not in Glasgow. When the wolves hit the stage at the Tramway, a good show becomes its glorious best. The National Theatre of Scotland and Improbable have collaborated in this adaptation of the scary children’s book by Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean. The Wolves in the Walls is ingeniously billed as ‘a musical pandemonium’ – a description that carefully avoids the cultural weight of ‘opera’ and takes the mumsy merriment out of ‘musical’ – suitable for all those ‘over seven who aren’t easily scared’.

It’s the first time Gaiman’s work has been seen in the theatre, though he’s written screenplays (Beowulf is being filmed by Robert Zemeckis, Mirrormask was directed by McKean) as well as adult fantasy novels and the Sandman comic-book series. It’s unlikely to be the last: this mixture of the unsettling and the shrewd makes CS Lewis look like Davina McCall: it can only be months before someone stages the amazing Coraline, in which a little girl (most of Gaiman’s heroes are heroines – yeah!) discovers an alternative life in which she has an ‘other mother’, with buttons for eyes, and a house that becomes a photograph of itself. It’s a brilliant nightmare, because so much of it is nearly normal.

The Wolves in the Walls – simply written and thoroughly creepy – is fired by Gaiman’s obsession with parents who get sealed off from their children, and his fascination with secret lives. A small girl hears gnawings inside her house, and knows that wolves are in the walls. Her family don’t believe her, until the lupine invaders take over: the humans scarper, but our heroine ingeniously suggests that they could live in the interstices of their own home – until they, too, are ready to come out of the walls. You could find here a story about the free-wheeling life of the unconscious, parental obtuseness, child bravery, panic about immigration. The only certain thing is that the story is always shifting: there’s no dead space; those walls are heaving.

Julian Crouch, one of the designer-directors of Improbable, is the man

to animate those shifts. He’s had a hand in the most imaginative theatre of the last decade: the grisly, gaudy toy-theatre of Shockheaded Peter and Sticky’s 100-foot-high sellotape monster; he raised hell when he designed Jerry Springer – the Opera. He can tweak a creature from a crumpled newspaper and turn a jumble of tape into a giant spider. He doesn’t make settings for dramas: his shape-changing designs are part of the action.

For The Wolves in the Walls, Crouch echoes McKean’s disturbing tangle of line-drawings, sculptural paintings and photographs but also makes something entirely his own. The wolves appear first as scratchy drawings on the curtain, then torch-light eyes glow like port-holes through the fabric. You glimpse them as spiky shadow puppets, and in full-blown burlap glory as enormous, part-human, part-puppet creatures. Sometimes an actor wears a sacking beast draped like a stole: its ping-pong-ball eyes glare above swivelling jaws, while long limbs dangle to the ground like strings of sausages. Sometimes a wolf-head perches on a fully human body: one wolf-dude saunters around in jeans, hand on hip as he hoovers to the sound of jazz. A wolf-fest rampage – one on a scooter dressed as Little Red Riding Hood, another savaging a standard lamp, a third swallowed up by a tuba – and one tugging a fluffy pet on wheels, which gets mangled and spat out by the fangs of his mates – is alone worth the price of a ticket.

There are plenty of other visual treats: a house is scribbled on the curtain with a beam of light; a father’s dream of tuba-playing glory is greeted by ghostly clapping hands; a boy’s video game floods the stage with castles and crags. And an extraordinarily beguiling pig puppet floats like a podgy pink cherub above the wolves’ snapping jaws.

Crouch’s co-director is Vicky Featherstone, artistic director of the National Theatre of Scotland, who has pinpoint precision and an unusual panoramic focus. That shows, though some of the considerable talents she’s brought in aren’t yet at full strength. Steve Hoggett provides choreography that makes the action dance – everyone leaps, glides, sashays or elevates – but it sometimes looks too energetically arty. Nick Powell’s songs – for which Gaiman has supplied some new words – are too bland: where’s the really frightening number? The opening scenes of the show are goody-goody: mum dances around while making jam (waving spoons and beaming) as if in a Fifties’ children’s telly show.

But it will grow. Powell’s composition is not just songs: it’s a soundscape – with lusty riffs for Iain Johnstone’s impressive tuba-playing father and a compelling steely guitar tune for the computer-game-playing son (Ryan Fletcher gives an electric performance as he skids around the stage propelled by the stuff coming out of his earphones) – of bleeps and pings and electronic buzzings. He’s composed a silvery sequence for the preserve-making mother which she tinkles out on the jars she is filling: jamelan.

The show now goes on tour, to London and through Scotland. It will end up at the Ayr Gaiety, the theatre Crouch says inspired him as a young boy. Let’s hope some young Crouches are in the audience: they could be carving out the theatre of the next 20 years.
–Susannah Clapp



From the 2nd April Independent on Sunday

Julian Crouch has been biding his time. True, this fantastic stage designer hasn’t been lying entirely doggo since Shockheaded Peter, the crankily macabre West End hit for which he shockingly didn’t win an Olivier Award. He has been abroad and conjured up a hallucinatory hell for Jerry Springer: The Opera. But now, with Wolves in the Walls, he has thrillingly returned to dark children’s literature, translating it into fabulous looking, scary and funny theatre with co-director Vicky Featherstone. This is also an exhilarating premiere for Featherstone’s new National Theatre of Scotland, co-producing with Crouch’s company Improbable. Recommended for everyone brave and over seven, it’s adapted from the children’s book by Neil Gaiman about a girl called Lucy whose family flee (at least initially) from their home when nightmarish wolves leap out of the walls.

Crouch essentially captures the shadowy yet also magically glowing style of David McKean’s original illustrations. At the same time, he and Featherstone play inventive theatrical games. Frances Thorburn’s lonely but sturdy Lucy tucks up with her toy pig in a surreally vertical bed, at once entertaining and unsettling. During the day, when she’s wandering around the house, a pack of stagehands in oddly wolfish clothes (peaked caps and jodhpurs) sneak around behind her as if it’s Grandmother’s Footsteps, only the building itself seems to move because they’re carrying the scenery – a creepy staircase here, a bleak receding corridor there. Lucy’s home is also seen from the outside, hauntingly lit up against the darkness, with her tubby, nice but self-involved dad (Iain Johnstone) squeezed into one room with his tuba while, in another, her faintly witchy mum (Cora Bissett) obsessively stirs strawberry jam. The wolves proper – when they jump out, wound round the backs of four puppeteers – are ashen and raggedy, like decomposing corpses, with big snappy jaws and long trailing legs. Yet they prove hilarious too, behaving like partying squatters crossed with big babies. One turns into a scratch DJ, using a claw, while another casually trundles through the living-room dressed up like Little Red Riding Hood.

Admittedly, at this early stage in its tour, this show isn’t knocking Shockheaded Peter into a cocked hat. The helter-skelter chases, choreographed by Steven Hoggett (of Frantic Assembly), need more work and the edgy score (by Nick Powell) occasionally becomes bland.

However, at its best, this is an extraordinary musical-cum-modern opera for kids. Newcomer Ryan Fletcher has a blast as Lucy’s wannabe cool brother, playing thrash rock on his air guitar. And Featherstone intelligently teases out – without spelling out – what the wolves might represent, from fears of death to marauding yobs, from poltergeists to the fantasies of domestically frustrated parents. Worth catching.

The hilarious wolves behave like partying squatters
–Kate Bassett



From the 2nd April Sunday Herald:

Rating: 4 Stars

Children’s theatre was always going to be a challenging area for the new National Theatre of Scotland. Part of the NTS’s burden is that audiences expect its work to be of a higher quality than that produced by other Scottish theatre groups.

With superb children’s companies such as Wee Stories and Catherine Wheels at large, that’s a tall order; to say nothing of the always outstanding Children’s International Theatre Festival staged in Edinburgh annually by Tony Reekie’s Imaginate company.

If The Wolves In The Walls, the NTS’s first stage production (the others having been on ferries, in glass factories and around the Glasgow subway system), is anything to go by, the already bright outlook for children’s theatre in Scotland just got rosier.

Based upon Neil Gaiman’s wonderful and unusual book (which has fabulous illustrations by Dave McKean), it is a brilliant example of how a vibrant, collaborative piece of musical theatre can grow from a well-chosen text.

The book, for those who haven’t already succum-bed to its charms, finds young Lucy much perturbed by the sounds emanating from within the walls of her creaking old house. There are, she concludes, wolves in the walls. Her pig handpuppet agrees.

Problem is, her jam-making mum, tuba-playing father and computer games-addicted brother all insist that the noises are being made by mammals of an altogether smaller size and less threatening reputation.

Perhaps they simply can’t bring themselves to accept the possibility of a wolf infestation because, as everyone knows, “when the wolves come out of the walls, it’s all over!”

The rest is children’s literary history; it’s also too good to give away. Let’s just say that when the wolves do emerge, our intrepid heroine, Lucy, is not prepared to accept the proposals of family members that they emigrate to the North Pole or outer space.

Gaiman’s tale is an excellent choice for adaptation to the stage. It has everything children love in live performance: tension, suspense, fear, courage, humour and, in this version, a fart gag.

The beauty of this presentation, a co-production between the NTS and London-based theatre group Improbable (in association with Tramway), is that it brings its own ideas to Gaiman’s text without diminishing the book.

Indeed, Gaiman provided additional lyrics for the songbook, which was collectively conceived by co-directors Vicky Featherstone (of the NTS) and Julian Crouch (of Improbable) with composer Nick Powell.

There is often something quite garish and trashy about big stage musicals for kids, but this piece is pure class. The cast, from excellent young actress Frances Thorburn (Lucy) to star of stage and screen Cora Bissett (Mum) and Wee Stories co-director Iain Johnstone (Dad), has quality written all over it; even one of the wolves is played by Scottish Critics’ Award winner Cait Davis.

Where other shows go for the “wow!” factor (think flying cars and the sort of pyrotechnics more appropriate for Chinese New Year), Featherstone and Crouch make a pitch for children’s imaginations.

Crouch also designed the sets (which are impressively faithful to McKean’s pictures in the original book), and, with the help of Natasha Chivers’s perfectly attuned lighting, the sense of the wolves preparing their invasion is realised visually with flair. Combined with the premonitory atmosphere generated by the fine live sound and music, the children in the audience are set to explode with anticipation.

If the piece is scary (but not, my own squeamish seven-year-old assures me, too scary), it is just as effective where the book’s humour is concerned.

Most of the story is well-plotted in Gaiman’s text, but it is in staging the wolfish celebrations which follow the expulsion of the humans from their home that this piece really comes into its own. The wolf masks and puppets are quite divine, in a fabulously rough sort of way. When the wolves do get the run of the house, they look like a bunch of drunken louts.

Their shenanigans are simply too hilarious, and too ingenious, to divulge to readers who may see the show as it tours; but if I mention the record player, the vacuum cleaner, Dad’s tuba and the dressing up box, you’ll get the idea.

There is also comedy from an unexpected source. In the book, Lucy’s brother is a rather annoying sibling with little by way of personality. Here, however, young Ryan Fletcher is a revelation, making a blisteringly adolescent tube of himself; singing in a fake American accent, playing air guitar and generally looking like a wannabe accountant.

If the show has a weakness it lies in the sheer number of performative ideas which have been squeezed in; a sign, unquestionably, of the collaborative process by which it was made. However, these various elements are, for the most part, tamed and focused … which is more than can be said of those wolves.
–Mark Brown



From the April 2nd Daily Variety:

The Wolves in the Walls
(Tramway, Glasgow; 600 seats; £9 $16 top)

A National Theater of Scotland presentation with Improbable, in association with Tramway, of a musical in one act based on the book by Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean. Conceived by Vicky Featherstone, Julian Crouch and Nick Powell. Directed by Featherstone and Crouch. Musical director, Martin Lowe. Choreography, Steven Hoggett.

Dad – Iain Johnstone
Mum – Cora Bissett
Lucy – Frances Thorburn
Brother – Ryan Fletcher
The Wolves – Cait Davis, Ewan Hunter, Jessica Tomchack, Jason Webb

Musicians: Robert Melling, Ric Chandler, Brian Molley

Sets and costumes, Crouch; lighting, Natasha Chivers; original music, Powell. Opened March 22, 2006. Reviewed March 29. Running time: 1 HOUR, 15 MIN.

They call it a “musical pandemonium,” which is stretching a point. But if this through-composed adaptation of the children’s picture book by Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean, “The Wolves in the Walls,” doesn’t have quite the anarchic spirit of helmer-designer Julian Crouch’s best-known creation, “Shockheaded Peter,” it does have a fertile energy of its own. As a junior introduction to the dark side of musical theater, it’s a lot of grisly fun and will be welcomed by younger Stateside audiences when it crosses the pond to tour in 2007.
Vicky Featherstone, head of the new National Theater of Scotland, struck on the idea of staging the book while reading it to her eldest son. At only 4, he was captivated by an all-too-believable tale of young Lucy whose protests about the wolves living in the walls of her family’s new house go unheard until the beasts decide to move in. When the tables are turned and the family is forced to live at the bottom of the garden, it falls on Lucy to put matters right.

In the short book’s 50 pages, McKean and Gaiman — whose name is associated with forthcoming movies Beowulf, Coraline, Stardust and Books of Magic — create a creepy, quirky picture that captures something of the anxiety, powerlessness and dark imagination of childhood. All odd angles and spooky shadows, it has a haunting quality that belies the simplicity of the story and repays repeated readings.

The production tunes in well to the blend of humor and horror, setting the genial but self-absorbed family figures — Iain Johnstone’s tuba-playing father, Cora Bissett’s jam-making mother and Ryan Fletcher’s game-playing big brother (complete with Space Invaders sweater) — against the scraggy, unkempt wolves, a dangly-limbed pack of sack-cloth puppets, more scary in their lawlessness than their bite. Only the radiant smile of Frances Thorburn’s Lucy reassures us that everything will be all right.

As designer, Crouch picks up on the cut-and-paste style and distinctive color palate of McKean’s artwork, building a number of ingenious variations on the domestic interior in which dimensions and perspectives are routinely out of kilter. When the girl senses the walls closing in on her, they do just that: three cardboard cut-outs creeping up when her back is turned like wayward components in a toy theater.

There’s a lovably homemade quality to all of this (Crouch’s specialty as designer is making entire sets from Scotch tape), but that’s not to underestimate the production’s technical sophistication. Pencil in hand, Thorburn leads us gently into the show by appearing to draw on the lowered curtain in front of her, quickly filling it with huge childish sketches of wolves with the help of some computer wizardry. The arrival of the animals is anticipated by an ominous rumbling that rattles our seats, chilling glimpses of shadow-puppet silhouettes and projections of fearsome lupine eyes.

Nick Powell’s score is influenced by everything from madrigals to electronica, heavy rock, Michael Nyman and George Gershwin. Melodically, though, it’s short on killer tunes and, lyrically, rather too faithful to the book to create memorable, stand-alone songs. In that sense, it’s more operatic in form, prioritizing the telling of the story over show-stopping numbers.

This means there’s less musical flamboyance than in “Shockheaded Peter,” which was driven by the extraordinary talents of the Tiger Lilies and, in a later version, David Thomas of Pere Ubu. But that’s not to diminish the child-friendly qualities of this entertaining show.
–Mark Fisher


From the 31st March Times Online:

Four stars

Well, here it is, the first full mainstage production of Scotland’s new National Theatre, and if one of the company’s missions is to build the audience of the future, then this brisk, vivid and effective 75-minute “musical pandemonium” for children over the age of six seems to hit the nail squarely on the head. Co-produced with London-based Improbable Theatre, the show is based on the award-winning 2003 picture book by Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean, an eccentric and beautifully drawn collage of images and text which tells the story of Lucy, a wise child who just knows that the rustling noises in the walls of her family’s house are caused not by mice but by a marauding company of wolves, and who, alarmingly, is proved right.

This is an unsettling story, in other words, full of echoes of dark 1990s themes of occupation, flight and exile, and the sudden powerlessness of parents in a cruel world. The echo of postmodern warfare is captured by the strange commando gear worn by the four actors who play the wolves, carrying big, awkward wolf-puppets.

The emotional curve of the story is beautifully captured in this joint production by the NTS’s Vicky Featherstone and Improbable’s Julian Crouch, and by the lovely Frances Thorburn as Lucy, Ryan Fletcher as her PlayStation-obsessed brother, and Cora Bissett and Iain Johnstone as her loving but ineffectual parents.

Where the show slightly misses the mark is in the areas where the National Theatre might be expected to excel. The scenic effects range from the excellent and exciting – such as the moving, translucent walls of the house – to the clumsy and the slightly disappointing. And Nick Powell’s lyrical score, although brilliantly sung, propels us deftly through the story without ever becoming memorable. But if the production fails to achieve the world-beating levels of beauty, clarity and technical excellence to which it might have aspired, it’s still a bright, strong, clever and interesting big-scale children’s show built around a family story that attracted delighted roars and chuckles of recognition from the kids in the audience. And it seems more than capable, as it tours on to London, Perth, Stirling and Ayr, not only of representing Scottish theatre elsewhere, but of drawing many thousands of children and their families into the embrace of their new National Theatre company before its first season is out.
–Joyce McMillan



From the 31st March Times Online:

It was cunning, tactically, to open the all-new National Theatre of Scotland in ten places at once last month, diffusing attention but pulling in thousands more people than would ever have seen one big gala in Edinburgh or Glasgow.

Sooner or later, though, there was always going to come a moment when all eyes would be on one place, one stage, one big moment.

This production is it.

Anyone expecting some grand classic, however, or even a new play by a Liz Lochhead or a David Greig, still has not grasped how different this national-theatre-without-walls – no permanent company, no permanent home – wants to be.

Who else would have taken a story by Neil Gaiman, the graphic novel supremo, and got him to adapt it, a first in itself? Who else would have chosen a show for a family audience (“anyone from six upwards who’s not a scaredy-cat”, according to the publicity)? Who else would have had it almost entirely sung through to some stylish but dark, original music by Nick Powell?

Well, in the end, as long as it works, who cares? Happily, I can report that, although it takes a while to get going, its action-packed 75 minutes ends in something close to triumph. The story, originally a dream of Gaiman’s four-year-old daughter, is that there are wolves living in the walls of her ordinary house. Lucy, charmingly played and sung by Frances Thorburn, is more like 10 or 11 here, though naturalistic details do not count for much in this fantastical world where Mum makes jam and Dad plays the tuba. Naturally, Lucy turns out to be right. But when they finally appear, everything does not come to a stop, as the adults predict. The wolves turn out to be scaredy-cats themselves, just a bit raucous and badly behaved.

You could find any number of subtexts -about vanquishing fears, embracing strangers, living cheek by jowl -if you wanted to. But the real pleasure here is the sheer theatrical fun of it, the moveable, transparent walls of the house, the crazy projections and perspectives and, above all, the wolves themselves. Grey, mangy tatterdemalions they may be, giant puppets brilliantly manipulated by onstage puppeteers, yet somehow there remains something inescapably lupine about them.

Julian Crouch co-directs alongside Vicky Featherstone, the theatre’s artistic director, and you can see the hallmarks of Crouch’s own Improbable company, with which this is co-produced, all over it. But then Crouch grew up in Ayr, so already the NTS is bringing its talent home. My eight-year-old assistant reviewer was enraptured.
–Robert Dawson Scott



From the 31st March Scotsman:

Well, here it is, the first full mainstage production of Scotland’s new National Theatre, and if one of the company’s missions is to build the audience of the future, then this brisk, vivid and effective 75-minute “musical pandemonium” for children over the age of six seems to hit the nail squarely on the head. Co-produced with London-based Improbable Theatre, the show is based on the award-winning 2003 picture book by Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean, an eccentric and beautifully drawn collage of images and text which tells the story of Lucy, a wise child who just knows that the rustling noises in the walls of her family’s house are caused not by mice but by a marauding company of wolves, and who, alarmingly, is proved right.

This is an unsettling story, in other words, full of echoes of dark 1990s themes of occupation, flight and exile, and the sudden powerlessness of parents in a cruel world. The echo of postmodern warfare is captured by the strange commando gear worn by the four actors who play the wolves, carrying big, awkward wolf-puppets.

The emotional curve of the story is beautifully captured in this joint production by the NTS’s Vicky Featherstone and Improbable’s Julian Crouch, and by the lovely Frances Thorburn as Lucy, Ryan Fletcher as her PlayStation-obsessed brother, and Cora Bissett and Iain Johnstone as her loving but ineffectual parents.

Where the show slightly misses the mark is in the areas where the National Theatre might be expected to excel. The scenic effects range from the excellent and exciting – such as the moving, translucent walls of the house – to the clumsy and the slightly disappointing. And Nick Powell’s lyrical score, although brilliantly sung, propels us deftly through the story without ever becoming memorable. But if the production fails to achieve the world-beating levels of beauty, clarity and technical excellence to which it might have aspired, it’s still a bright, strong, clever and interesting big-scale children’s show built around a family story that attracted delighted roars and chuckles of recognition from the kids in the audience. And it seems more than capable, as it tours on to London, Perth, Stirling and Ayr, not only of representing Scottish theatre elsewhere, but of drawing many thousands of children and their families into the embrace of their new National Theatre company before its first season is out.
–Joyce McMillan


From the 31st March Guardian:

Lucy’s house looks like an ordinary house. But Lucy knows that there is something different and strange about it: a feeling that anything could happen. Her busy jam-making mum, tuba-playing dad and big brother are dismissive of her fears, but Lucy is certain there are wolves living in the walls. And the wolves are about to come out. And as everyone knows, when the wolves come out of the wall, it’s all over.

Based on Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean’s cult picture book, this co-production between the National Theatre of Scotland and Improbable Theatre takes the form of a family opera that is acutely alert to the psychology of the child’s mind. This is no Shockheaded Peter: it is intended for children, but it transports the adult back into the world of childhood, a world full of uncertainty, nameless fears and mystery, a place where bogeymen and monsters lurk under your bed and in your head.

Like the book, the show is very scary and very safe at the same time, and it completely understands the child’s fierce attachment to her home and the intense loneliness of modern family life where families live together and yet are apart doing their own thing. It could do with racking up the tension at the beginning, however. And, melodic though Nick Powell’s score is, it is rather too well-behaved for this pandemonium, with its wonderful raggedy wolves – all long limbs, jaws and twisted smiles, so that they look endearingly terrifying, like Bambi with fangs.

Quintessentially of the book, and yet also much more, this is a delightful, anarchically inventive exploration of the peculiar pleasures of fear, and it both conjures monsters and defeats them. Wolves and humans do a terrific job. I made sure to check under my bed before I turned the light out.
–Lyn Gardner