Staged by kind permission of the Lindgren Estate, these winter holidays you could do a lot worse than take some kids to Pippi Longstocking at the Pumphouse.  Producer/director Tim Bray once again delivers an decidedly theatrical piece to counteract the extreme sensationalism of most family holiday entertainment.

For those with deprived childhoods, the story goes that an odd looking and physically extremely strong little girl with a funny name comes to stay in Villekula cottage, belonging to her father (allegedly a cannibal king) and mother (who’s now an angel), and proceeds to live life however she jolly well pleases. 

She meets a couple of kids next door and they become best of friends as she introduces them to an entirely outside-the-square approach to the world.  When stiff, by the book grownups try to straighten Pippi up to fly right, she tends to toss them aside, literally.  As a fan of Astrid Lindgren’s classic series, I was curious how they might handle the bit where wee Pippi spins the large heavy blokes above her head.  She doesn’t get to actually spin them, however the solution is delightfully amusing.

The production is quietly enchanting from a technical point of view. The musical numbers, mostly composed Christine White (see credits above) are soft and jolly. The brightly basic, versatile set design accolade goes to Sarah Sauler, who also comes up with the costume designer goods; perfunctory without being boring.

Esther Stevens takes on the title role, surely one most coveted in children’s theatre; the Scarlett O’Hara of the kidult genre.  Her command of the script is sound and she sings very nicely.  Her performance is more or less all on one level and she isn’t terribly convincing as a nine-year old, albeit one as precocious as young Pippilotta Delicatessa Windowshade Mackrelmint Ephraim’s Daughter Longstocking, 

Whilst enjoying the script greatly, I felt the full potential of many comic moments were not being reached.  For the grownups – me anyway – the acting overall seems predictable and storybookish, sometimes flat.  There was also some tension in the performances that may be put down to early-season jitters which ought to loosen up after a few shows.

The major exception is Bruce Burfield in the treble roles of Bengt the burly bully, the policeman and Ephraim Longstocking himself, Pippi’s father.  Burfield has characterisation to burn and a most appealing flair for comic aggression.

Wholesome kids next door Tommy and Annika are nicely played by Jonathan Martin and Sophie Henderson.  Despite his considerable height, Martin manages to suspend the most disbelief in terms of portraying a prepubescent child.  Louise Harris capably doubles as the haughty teacher (‘Ma’am’, not ‘you!’) and weedy Willy, victim of the irascible Bengt.

In any case, the children in the audience were quite transfixed, and I reckon the success of the direction and performance can be measured by the youngsters’ silence in the quiet bits. 

For all her charm and humour, Pippi is not really the greatest role model in every respect.  Uptight conservative people can certainly take a lesson from her ability to question what she’s told.  However she is really a terrible listener, she gives up when she doesn’t master something immediately, and she constantly makes everything about herself.  The only other character we really learn anything about is her father.  Despite these controversial elements, excusable by her innocent youth, Pippi is a bona-fide hero with a (self centred) heart of gold.

The upshot of it all is an adequate production which your kids will thank you for taking them to.  One hour sounds like a good length of time for holding children’s attention spans and many appeared to leave wanting more.  Clearly the magic of real people performing in person hasn’t yet been be entirely replaced by the more technological and artificial alternatives.

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