It’s a dastardly tale – Cinderella’s evil siblings, real estate agents Tommy and Bayley, are plotting to take over her share of their Mt Victoria villa, knock it down and build mini-mansions.  

Who can foil their plans? Will it come down to a rat, a public-service-seeking prince, his manservant, Rosie Bubble – a fairy godmother who is desperate to grow her wings – or the kind Cinderella?

Cinderella – The Pantomime sets off at a cracking pace and doesn’t let up. [More]

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What has the Cinderella fairytale got to offer a world where the titular character has a complex named after her? The ‘Cinderella complex’ is a disempowering romantic fantasy that afflicts a woman with an unconscious desire to be taken care of by others, usually a man. Submissive and needy, she hopes some ‘Fairy Godmother’ will come to her rescue and make it happen, magically. Yeah right. 

Well, this world is also rife with bullies – and we don’t have to look far to find proof that being kind and brave does pay off in countless ways, especially when strong women show the way. Not that this year’s panto writers, Simon Leary and Gavin Rutherford, have overtly referenced ‘Jacindarella’, although calling the Prince who is drawn to her kindness ‘Ashley of Blooming Fields’ does evoke a certain double-act that has been a big part of our real world this year.

Leary and Rutherford have also dispensed with the ‘wicked step mother’ and morphed the ‘ugly sisters’ into a step sister and step brother – greedy real-estate agents named Bayley and Tommy respectively – so there is gender-equality in their appalling verbal bullying of Cinderella. The panto cross-dressing tradition is honoured with Jonathan Morgan’s frocked-up Bayley and Kathleen Burns’ swaggering Tommy relishing every opportunity to win vocal audience opprobrium.

As Prince Ashley’s minder, Dandini, Bronwyn Turei boasts flowing locks and a pencil moustache, is stylishly clad like a 17^th century Musketeer, possibly prefers the pronoun ‘they’ (I may have imagined that) and sings superbly.

As for Buttons – a lowly servant alongside Cinders in the old versions – he/it is a rat, who wants to be human. Given the collective commitment of Wellingtonians to rid the town belt of rats (and possums, ferrets, stoats and hedgehogs), I do find it odd that Cinderella of Mount Victoria befriends Buttons. I guess the point is that they are both outcasts – and in the role Simon Leary ensures we care.

This Cinderella seeks no pity from other characters or the audience. As played by Natasha McAllister she is pragmatic, resourceful and in fine voice (although I do wish American accents could be avoided when singing songs; it completely removes the character from what they are singing about when this phony voice intrudes).

Gavin Rutherford’s pantomime dame has always been a high point with her risqué humour over the years but this time, as Rosie Bubble the would-be Fairy Godmother, she is more low key. Yet to earn her big fairy wings, she is worried she won’t be able to manage the much-needed magic – which does heighten the dramatic tension. Much fun is had with Rosie’s inability to get Cinderella’s name right, although I would have thought that when she reads it off a contract (whereby the greedy siblings get their come-uppance) she would at last get it right. We would have cheered at that, I reckon.

Obliged to find a wife and assume the throne – following the death of the King, his father, struck down by lightning in a dynamically-recalled thunder storm – Jack Buchanan’s truthfully rendered Prince Ashley is unimpressed by the wanna-be queens he has had to endure. He’s much more comfortable disguised in ‘peasant’ clothes, among ‘the people’ at the market. That’s where – as he hands out invitations to the palace ball – he happens to meet the kindred spirit he dreams of: Cinderella. But his simple quest is complicated by ‘Face Blindness’, an affliction whereby he only recognizes people by their clothes and shoes or feet.

Ah yes, the ‘glass slipper’ and its being left behind as Cinderella rushes from the ball at midnight is retained in this telling. But there is a twist that cleverly subverts predictability as Dandini leads the rousing song that takes us to interval.

One-man band Michael Nicholas Williams – musical director and adapter/ arranger of the songs to tunes well-known to the target audience – enlivens the action throughout, abetted by Leigh Evans’ choreography and Paul Lawrence’s mic and mix operation. Marcus McShane’s excellent lighting design is impeccably operated by Deb McGuire, as are the impactful sound effects. 

The practical multi-level set, designed by John Hodgkins, is enhanced by a back-drop screen that displays a masterful array of photoshopped ‘Wellingtown’ images, and a mini-menagerie of fluffy animals that are the focus of Cinderella’s avowed vocation. Sheila Horton’s eclectic range of costume designs speak volumes about each character and their circumstances. And here the ‘transformation scene’ is magically achieved through sleight-of-costume with appropriate hazer and lighting.

The second half builds up to Prince Ashley’s pending wedding – but to whom? It’s all about the shoes and the feet. Experts in the lore of this tale may be pleased to know no blood is split in Bayley’s and Tommy’s efforts to fit the slipper. An impressive feat of ensemble shoe-tossing brings the action to a climax, before the resolution we have feared may not be possible is finally achieved.

Eschewing the ‘poor girl becomes a princess’ trope, this Cinderella is focused on self-esteem – kids in the audience are invited on stage to help her escape from her low self-esteem bubble – and on values we know are fundamental to our social and economic recovery this year.

This is the 16^th pantomime Circa has produced in as many years, all directed by Susan Wilson, who has perfected the art. The first was Roger Hall’s Cinderella, rebooting a tradition that is constantly refreshed, bringing new generations of potential theatre-lovers to Circa every year. Long may it continue. 

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