Bold claim: This breezy seaside panto serves up sun, splash, and a seaside swagger that will whisk you away from any notion of a white Christmas. And here’s where it gets controversial: it’s unapologetically traditional, right down to the “turkey with all the trimmings” vibe, yet it still manages to surprise with quirky, high-spirited moments.
Crabbington Sands, a sun-drenched coastal town, hosts Cinderella’s tale, where a pastel-clad ensemble grooves to Aimee Leigh’s breezy choreography. The show wastes no time dialing up the beachy atmosphere: Lou and Lav, the sisters with a brutally cheeky edge (cue a playful toilet-flush sound effect), arrive in outrageously saucy postcard-worthy outfits. Designer Kirsteen Wythe outfits them in lurid, UV-protected costumes—from a beach-ball skirt to a bucket-and-spade hat, from fairground-inspired dresses to wigs braided with fishing rope—so the eye keeps finding something wild to admire.
Cinderella herself hails from a family whose hotel has shuttered since a tragedy struck. Her longing for new adventures anchors the opening number, a lively rendition of Natasha Bedingfield’s Unwritten that doubles as a reveal of her heart’s yearnings. Georgia May Foote leads with a big-sister warmth, engaging the crowd and framing Cinderella’s view of Buttons (Joe Tracini) as a brotherly figure rather than a steadfast romance. Yet Foote’s Cinderella feels a touch unambitious at times, and the romance with a prince—an aspiring, somewhat goofy rocker played by Danny Hatchard—lacks a spark that elevates the central arc.
As a pantomime, this production stays firmly within the familiar framework: plenty of crowd-pleasing routines, a generous helping of panto humor, and show-stopping musical moments. The wicked sisters, played with sly flair by Owen Evans and Kenny Moore, steal several scenes, though curiously there’s no stepmother to balance the dynamic. The humor lands in streaks—some jokes land with delightful daftness, others land with a groan, and that contrast is part of the charm. The show also delivers memorable bits such as a “Shoe Must Go On” game show centered on the iconic slipper and a chorus of monks belting out Ring My Bell. Joe Tracini excels in the finale bits, swinging through the aisles on a prop rope as an “air friar” and drawing a mob of delighted children into his orbit.
Hannah-Jane Fox's pink-haired fairy godmother brings a playful twist: her magic wobbles as her couplets stumble without neat rhymes, a clever conceit that nods to the imperfect, lovable nature of the genre. The script also pokes fun at the era’s often-lazy use of youth slang with a knowing wink—an adult’s attempt at trendy chatter that a perceptive schoolchild might crinkle at fainterly cringe.
One wish for improvement would be more of Jeevan Braich’s Dandini. Braich, a standout from Starlight Express, delivers a gorgeously rich vocal performance and earns a big number post-interval that instantly raises the temperature. The plot, however, feels a touch thin in the second half, craving a climactic moment more substantial than the rapid wrap-up that follows. Still, Andrew Lynford’s bright, buoyant, and warmly executed production leaves you with more than just a lasting memory of cheer—it lingers as a grin that creases your face long after the curtain falls.
If you’re near Norwich Theatre Royal, you can catch Cinderella through January 4. It’s a seaside sunbeam of a pantomime: familiar, feel-good, and funny enough to make the winter blues drift away with the tide.
Would you enjoy this kind of traditional panto more with an edgier or more contemporary twist, or do you prefer the classic, reliable sparkle that Lynford's production delivers? Share your take in the comments.
