Pint-sized panto in Penge is selling out fast

The Bridge House Theatre, tucked inside a local pub I was visiting for the first time, has clearly built a loyal following for its pint-sized pantomimes packed with oversized personality, writes Luigia Minichiello.

The venue itself is a real asset: welcoming staff, a relaxed atmosphere and a steady stream of interesting events that give it the feel of a genuine community hub rather than just a performance space.

This year’s Beauty and the Beast continues that tradition. Written by Artistic Director Luke Adamson, this brand-new adaptation blends the spirit of the original French fairy tale with affectionate nods to the classic Disney version.

Set in the picturesque French village of Pénge-sur-Mer, the story introduces Belle: clever, independent and dreaming of something beyond her repetitive village life. She is restless, curious and clearly searching for more than her surroundings can offer. Looming above the village – both literally and metaphorically—is Prince Philippe Phacochère, a spectacularly vain, swaggering tyrant who rules from his hilltop castle like a man who has never once questioned his own brilliance. His downfall arrives via the annual thumb-war championship, where his shameless cheating finally catches up with him. The appearance of a wicked fairy, swift and unforgiving, results in a curse that transforms him into a beast, physically and morally, neatly setting the story in motion.

One of the theatre’s signatures – the clever use of video-projected scenery – is back and as polished as ever. The projections make imaginative use of the intimate space, effortlessly shifting the audience between enchanted forests, crumbling castle chambers and bustling village streets. Costume design also impresses, striking a confident balance between panto flamboyance and fairy-tale fantasy, with bold choices that clearly define each character.

The cast of four are all strong singers with a good sense of comic timing, and there was some slapstick and larger-than-life characterisation, including a classic cream-pie routine. The show opens well with clear character introductions. Each time the dandy Prince mentions a certain word, a snippet of a song by the Purple One plays, a running gag that builds nicely and culminates in a rendition of The One and Only, perfectly underlining his vanity. The wicked fairy makes a memorable entrance by attempting to steal an audience member’s drink, only to hand it back when she realises it is not, in fact, the blood of a creature.

On the night I attended, the audience was a mix of adults and a handful of younger children, though there wasn’t always enough to keep the younger ones fully engaged.

There were a few topical and throwaway jokes, and references to the royals taking Prince Andrew back, and a gag about not looking a gift horse in the mouth because it looks like Alan Carr, but overall there were surprisingly few laughs.

With so many musical numbers packed into the show, the narrative occasionally became muddled and hard to follow. I also felt the production didn’t fully delve into the darker or more traditional panto elements: the true wickedness of the fairy, the scariness of the monsters, the fight scene with the Beast, or the crowd-pleasing joy of “behind you!” and full-blooded booing of the baddie.