In a cottage in a deep, dark, specifically Eastern European forest, a family suffer a bad, completely empty-cupboarded famine. It’s important that we understand that this famine is a serious problem, but also that the forest is very far away – and so we are worried for the family, but not too concerned that a similar famine might also affect us. That wouldn’t do.
NIE’s Hansel and Gretel is a warming, Christmassy production, with a dash of self-examination and self-conscious humour adding intellectual richness. Its ensemble is truly international – five artists from four different countries, variously draw in language, music, movement, and puppets to tell the story. A very wicked stepmother (‘not the modern sort of stepmother, who might pick you up from rugby on a Wednesday afternoon’) screeches only in Norwegian, browbeating a weak, henpecked coward of a father into taking Hansel and Gretel off into the forest and leaving them there to count elephants until he returns. They count 1167 before falling asleep.
Unai Lopez de Armentia and Stefanie Mueller play a very young, sweet, intelligent and funny Hansel and Gretel. They each manipulate a little puppet to represent the heroic siblings, so that one moment we are watching the actors watching the puppets, and the next the actors themselves are Hansel and Gretel. This double representation offers a little window into the rehearsal room – we see the company’s reactions to the characters and plight of Hansel and Gretel, just as we see how the actors then turn their observations into real characters. It works – strengthening our own reactions and drawing us closer to the characters.
Several times during the performance we are offered this window into the creation process or invited to join the company watching themselves performing. ‘And Hansel and Gretel continued counting elephants until they fell asleep. And all this time… I have been playing the ukulele,’ says musical director / ensemble / later the Wicked Witch Carly Davies. At another point, Gretel can’t stop crying, and the other ensemble members become increasingly worried when their firm ‘and then, Gretel stopped crying’ falls on deaf ears. NIE have worked hard to make this their own story. Though we know the way it’s going, there isn’t a twist or turn here that isn’t made new or validated by NIE’s examination of it.
Interestingly, we stick with Hansel and Gretel, their family situation and the journeys into the woods until well into the second half, and the gingerbread house/wicked witch element doesn’t dominate, as it could do. This works – it would be a pleasure watching Lopez and Mueller interact as Hansel and Gretel for far longer – and the witch is quite bizarre, a myopic Midlands eccentric who grabs the attention but, like the Norwegian stepmother, is best off in small doses. Alex Byrne’s direction allows this concoction just the right level of melodrama and hyperbole.
A pretty set of snow and trees, with a tiny candlelit gingerbread house, give the performance a nicely festive atmosphere, and rousing, Eastern European inspired music, directed by Carly Davies and played by the cast, stops it from ever becoming saccharine. The lyrics are irreverent and often unexpected, emphasising the story and very carefully adding feeling at just the right moments. It is impossible not to be drawn in by this very thoughtful, self-aware performance that has been crafted to look just like we are watching it being crafted. It is immediate, truthfully observed and shows real heart and energy.