This Christmas, an estimated 9.3 million people in the UK will face hunger and hardship. While most of us tuck into their turkeys, some parents will be unable to treat their children, or choose to go hungry themselves so their loved ones can eat. They’re strange stats to mention in a review of a Christmas show, but ones playwright Chris Bush clearly wants us to think of with Robin Hood and the Christmas Heist, as she plays into the whole ‘robbing from the rich to give to the poor’ aspect of the Nottingham folk tale
Sure, there are more mentions of anarcho-socialism than your average festive production, but musicals with political bite are what we've come to expect from the Standing at the Sky’s Edge writer. Yet for all the show's focus on privilege and power, director Elin Schofield prevents her Robin Hood from feeling like a sermon. The production is a little overstuffed, but it makes for an enjoyable evening of theatre: one that’ll make you think, not just feel festive.
Against the icy tones and natural details of Anisha Fields’s set, we’re introduced to the inhabitants of Sherwood Forest, all dressed in muted tones and textured fabrics befitting a Toast catalogue. Robin (Matthew Ganley) and his Marian (Emma Manton) reside in the woods, looking after the local children – played by the Rose’s Youth Theatre company – amid the bitter chill of winter. They’d do anything to keep the kids happy and warm, even if it means sacrificing their own food.
Usually, the people of Sherwood are offered some respite at an annual Christmas feast held at the castle. But the newly appointed Sheriff of Nottingham – Andrew Whitehead, having the most fun on stage as a cartoonish, Henry VIII-like figure – informs them that there won’t be a feast for these ‘various ragamuffins’ this year. ‘Cutbacks all round’, he shrugs; plus, Prince John (Louis McKillop) is coming to Sherwood to hunt on St Stephen’s Day instead. So Robin and his gang devise a plan: to stage a heist when the Prince arrives, and steal his treasure for the people.
The plot might seem convoluted, but Bush’s script gives room for both pithy asides and lessons. The funniest material isn’t just reserved for the adult actors, either. At the performance I attended, it was the Blue cast of the young ensemble, and it was clear that Schofield had spent time and effort working on comic delivery and timing with the young performers.
In comparison, the adult actors-musicians sometimes feel like an afterthought, there to deliver exposition, play their instruments and facilitate the young actors, but do little else. There’s a limpness to the performances (with the exception of scene-stealer Whitehead), and the solo singing is at times pretty pitchy. Bush’s lyrics and Matt Winkworth’s score smartly interpolate classic Christmas songs, from ‘Carol of the Bells’ to ‘In The Bleak Midwinter’, and sound best when the entire company can harmonise together.
There are too many plates spinning for the production to feel fully coherent. Streamlined, it would really shine. When a stunning life-size puppet of an elderly stag with a red glowing nose – fittingly named Rudolph and designed by Little Angel Theatre – appears on stage, it is a joy to watch the young cast work together with impressive detail to make it move. Yet Rudolph only appears in the show briefly; I’d have liked to have seen it featured more heavily, or the youth company to work with more puppets, even. Sometimes, you need a little breathing room to figure out what’s working and what isn’t. Given this, I think Robin Hood could transform from a light festive treat into something truly memorable.