Sleeping Beauty – a community of talent brings this traditional tale to life on stage (Belvoir Players until Saturday 3 January)

A new arrival in the court of Queen Marigold and King Cactus is cursed by the evil Witch Hazel. While good Fairy Lilac adapts the deadliest part of the spell, the now 16-year-old Princess Rose still ends up falling asleep for a hundred years before being woken up (not kissed!) by a prince.

Mark McClean and assistant Katie-Rose Spence have directed this year’s Belvoir Players’ pantomime Sleeping Beauty (written by Alan P Frayn) which follows a fairly traditional story arc, with Nurse Hattie and Muddles providing a lot of the comedy, and local posties Carrie and Fetch joining in with some clowning and setting up a topical joke at the expense of Evri.

It’s always a joy to visit Belvoir Studio Theatre at Christmas, and encouraging to see amateur dramatic society stalwarts joined on stage by new talent (young and old). Colourful cloth backdrops along with sound/light effects bring the action to life. Wilson Shields and his band create the pumping live soundtrack (albeit louder than the vocals in some songs) with covers of Stevie Wonder, Lewis Capaldi, Blondie, The Boo Radleys and Kylie Minogue. The audience are never far from the action, with lots of shouting and booing. Anyone sitting in the front rows can expect to be gently picked on. The children sitting in my row were rapt with everything going on.

Alongside the expected fart sound effects and use of a Super Soaker, there’s the inevitable 6-7 mention, a wee dig at Keir Starmer, and plenty of gentle double entendres that easily fly over the head of younger audience members. The dame pulls a suppository gag out of nowhere, and Muddles revels in an almost endless supply of cracker-worthy jokes.

What makes a show like Sleeping Beauty special is the strong sense of community. Two or three actors rotate through the main roles, with three forty-strong youth choruses flooding the tiny stage for some of scenes. Hats off to the chaperones backstage who keep the cast and venue safe. No two shows share the same cast. And the show must always go on, no matter what happens. With both Princess Rose actors indisposed this weekend, Rainbow Fairy Julia Hamilton stepped up with minimal notice and delivered Princess Rose’s dialogue, dance and songs with aplomb as if she was made for the role and had been rehearsing for weeks.

Belvoir Players may not be able to fly a plane over the heads of the audience or have indoor pyrotechnics announce the arrival of the villain on stage, but they can entertain the two hundred audience members packed into the theatre for each performance with solid singing, good direction, and a joyful spirit. Sleeping Beauty was a lovely way to finish my mammoth trek around eleven Belfast festive productions. Apologies to the other shows which offered a ticket to review that I had to decline, and best wishes to everyone who will be back on stage, or back of house, after Christmas Day! 

Sleeping Beauty continues at Belvoir Studio Theatre until Saturday 3 January. Only a handful of seats remain at some of the remaining performances, with most completely sold out.

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Baby It’s Cold Outside – bringing a Black Mountain lesbian comedy into the heart of East Belfast (Bright Umbrella at The Sanctuary Theatre until Sunday 4 January)

Just when you think you’ve seen every variety of Christmas show, Baby It’s Cold Outside makes a comeback. West Belfast playwright Brenda Murphy’s 2013 play is being produced by Bright Umbrella in The Sanctuary Theatre.

In a nutshell, straight white bricklayer Joe from Ballymurphy calls in to check on his pregnant childhood friend who now lives with two other lesbians in an isolated cottage up Black Mountain. The surrounding landscape is about to be smothered in snow. The Christmas tree is up, and soon the mercury is rising as Joe (Brian Markey) comes storming in with his ignorance about ‘queers’ (to use the phrase he oft repeats) and his possessive feelings towards Patsy’s baby.

There’s certainly a lot of social commentary. But there’s also a lot of crass stereotyping and – for most of the first act – the audience around me were largely laughing along with Joe’s inappropriate musings rather than siding with the misunderstood and maligned women. At times the atmosphere felt quite demeaning and dismissive of the LGBT community, even though that’s not the script’s intention.

Markey veers from being cock of the walk to fleeting moments of realising his witlessness, before finally taking control of a tense situation.

Mary McGurk acts her socks off (and her character’s knickers) as Patsy. With two weeks to go until her due date, she lumbers around the cottage’s sitting room, taking no cheek from Joe and spilling his tea … right until he reveals a detail about his actions as the sperm donor for Patsy’s baby. An impressive McGurk stops emotionally strong Patsy from ever being drawn as simply ‘highly strung’.

Michelle Wiggins plays Sally, a butch woman who can lag pipes and gos out of her way to help older neighbours. US student Madison (Jade O’Neill) barely has to bat her eyelids to have Joe fawning over her. Her character is the least well written, and Joe’s warm rapport with Madison totally eclipses the fact he’s still meant to be so sweet on Patsy that he’s braved the bad weather to visit her.

For a play that’s focussed on a lesbian relationship – the couple’s desire to have a family, and what stands in the way – it feels odd that much of the play is seen through the straight eyes of Joe. I’m not sure whether that’s a legacy of the Murphy’s script, Michael Quinn’s decisions as director, or a result of producing a play steeped with very west Belfast humour over in the east.

While some music accompanies scene changes, it’s a shame there was no sound of howling wind or a few flakes of confetti thrown whenever the front door of PJ Davey’s set is opened to give a greater sense of the worsening snowpocalypse. The second act is less secure and some of the plot’s revelations are quite hard to swallow. But in the end, Baby It’s Cold Outside delivers a strong dramatic farcical finish that befits a comedy show (it’s never a hospital drama seeking to be authenticate about medical details).

The coarse and adult nature of Baby It’s Cold Outside is certainly a departure from last year’s family-friendly production of The Magician’s Nephew (based on the CS Lewis book) in The Sanctuary Theatre. Some aspects of the play feel very pertinent. Yet I found the overall tone taken to be challenging: both Joe and some in the audience get an education of sorts, but it seems to come at the cost of diluting the message of advocacy for gay wannabe mums.

Baby It’s Cold Outside continues its run until Sunday 4 January (link to tickets before and after 22 December). 

Photo credit: Emma Dawson

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The Secret Bookshop – an other-worldly celebration of stories and reading (Cahoots NI at Cityside Retail Park until Wednesday 24 December)

Bookshops are magical places at the best of times. Shelves full of treasured stories. But step inside the unmarked door in Cityside shopping centre and walk down the long entrance corridor with its flickering lights, and you’ll find yourself in an immersive and spell-binding celebration of books and storytelling: The Secret Bookshop.

We first meet Silas, his daughter Araminta and her boyfriend Thaddeus in the Archive, a room surrounded by stacks of flight cases, guarded by Nigel, the comically plain-named head of security. Inside the cases are objects from familiar tales. Soon we’re stepping through a portal into the actual bookstore where objects will float, doors will open and close by themselves, and can it be true that stories the audience chose before entering the building are randomly coming to life in front of our eyes!

Accompanied by the jazzy fingers and smooth vocals of Octavian Pedal (Kyron Burke), we join Silas (John Paul Connolly) on his quest. He’s a driven man on a mission, who is dismissive of “sensitive” Thaddeus (Hugh Brown, playing the kind of guy who doesn’t panic and would be good in an emergency). Christina Nelson’s Araminta is eager and infectiously enthusiastic. Nigel (Declan King) is kept at arm’s length, an outside who is definitely not part of the family. Throughout the performance we’ll also see the work and eventually the presence of Orla Gormley (who, without giving away the final part of the show, provides a very cool and monochromatic juxtaposition to the warm bookshop workers).

Writer Charles Way’s imagination is teamed up with illusions designed by Guy Barrett and Katie Wade and giant sleights of hand directed by Paul Bosco Mc Eneaney. Diana Ennis has created a steam-punk set for the archive – inspired by the characters’ oft-repeated mantra of “gas, steam, electricity, music and magic” – with lots of practical special effects, and a very warm book-lined room with hidden doors for the main show. Cahoots’ partnership with The Deluxe Group has really added to the scale of the visual experience. There’s nothing flimsy about the solid structures that enclose the action.

Throw in oaths of allegiance, audience participation, puppetry, and the fine level of control of the theatre environment that a Cahoots show always enjoys, and you have an hour-long visit to an other-worldly celebration of stories and reading that throws in a moral message about recognising other people’s worth, as well as a hint that reading under the bed covers could be a worthwhile pursuit.

There’s no other show in Belfast this Christmas that will make a member of the audience disappear and induct you into a secret society. The Secret Bookshop continues with up to performance shows a day in Cahoots NI’s base in Cityside Retail Park until 24 December. With space limited at each show, many shows are selling out.

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The Elf Inspectors – can the young inspectors help the elves restore the magic of Christmas? (Replay Theatre at The MAC until Christmas Eve)

Replay Theatre Company put children at the heart of their work. Right in the centre. They are the most important audience members. Yes, the adults bigger children in the room may also love what happens and particularly appreciate the meaning of some aspects, but the story and the atmosphere is built around the littlest audience members.

Walking into The Elf Inspectors is like stepping into another world. A room I’ve previously live-streamed conferences from on the top floor of the MAC has been turned into a circular glade surrounded by Christmas trees. Elves – you can tell they’re elves by their ears – greet everyone and speak with in a distinctive elvish dialect of English, cutely mixing up some consonants and emphasising syllables in unusual ways. Soft shag rugs can be sat on if an upright chair isn’t your thing. Gentle music calms heartrates that may have been racing due to that morning’s blockage on the Westlink. It’s all very comfy and wholesome. Even the stage management team – shout out to a busy Jordan Nelson and Rick Paine – are in costume.

While everyone gathers, some of the youngest visitors wander around the exciting environment while their frustrated parents try to get them to pose for photographs. There is much to see, and a lot of freedom to explore, even before the show gets underway with its bubbles and snow and so much more.

Soon Nice Elf and Helpful step onto the central dias to remind us that we’re all here as part of an inspection team checking out the rumours that there’s been a decline in the quality of the Christmas magic at this site. The elves’ generator has been on the fritz for quite some time.

Nice Elf (Catriona McFeely) is prone to outbursts brought on by frustration with the others around her. Helpful Elf (Ashley Montgomery) is responsible for maintenance but the generator’s crisis soon proves to be more existential than a simple repair will fix. The pair argue and bicker like sisters. As they rack their brains for solutions, even trying to use the sprinkle train – a very popular moment with the young inspectors – proves insufficient to sooth the generator and restart the magic.

Later we meet Wise Elf (Carol Moore) who spins a yarn while we cosy up in the shade of our family tree. The appearance of Rascal Elf (a superb piece of typecasting of Keith Singleton) adds even more humour. Is he truly naughty – the dreaded N word – or just misunderstood?

Some audience members are caught up in marvelling at the multi-sensory set: the trees, the texture of the rugs and the ‘sprinkle train’, being able to pull a fabric cracker, observing the detailing in the colourful costumes (designed by Susan Scott). Others get to grips with the emotional journey of the story as the four elves get to the root cause of the generator’s malaise.

Nice Elf’s song rounds up the 50-minute show with a catchy chorus (written by sound designer Garth McConaghie) that I found myself singing along to. Leaving the theatre and heading back into a blustery world, I share ‘wiggly wishes’ with someone who wasn’t at the show. They probably thought I was an eejit!

Janice Kernoghan-Reid wrote and directed The Elf Inspectors. The gradual build-up from two to three and finally four elves on stage is likely a deliberate decision given the age of the target audience (2-5 years old), but it does mean that the calming granny-like figure of Moore and the magnetic presence of Singleton are only on stage for part of the performance.

One of the joys of Replay’s work is that the actors adapt the story – how and in what positions it is told – based on the audience. So a wandering child or an aside that someone shouts out will be instantly and quite seamlessly woven into the scene. Nothing induces panic. And much of the time, the warm embrace of the lighting, the set and the props perfectly steers the attention of the littlest elf inspectors.

A £31 family ticket secures four places at a Christmas tree (larger parties can contact the box office as up to two more places may be available for an extra £5 an elf inspector).

The Elf Inspectors runs at The MAC until Christmas Eve. (Weekend shows are selling very fast with more availability on weekdays.)

Photo credit: Neil Harrison

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Robin Hood: The Panto – a show that successfully delights its young audiences (Yellow Jumper Productions at Theatre at the Mill until Saturday 3 January)

The diminutive Sheriff of Nothingman (Aaron Ferguson) is searching for the charismatic hooded one (Tiarnán McCarron) who is hiding in the forest. The extent is his ‘merry men’ has been somewhat exaggerated – Dame Little Joan (Lennin Nelson-McClure) is one of his few mates – but fear not as Maid Martini (Laura Francisca Shaw) is keen to break away from the coercive control of the Sheriff and wants to join Robin Hood’s posse. Will it all end in tears … or in prison? Will anyone slide into Dame Joan’s DMs? Can Robin outsmart the fearsome Sherriff and his faceless henchmen.

Right from the start of Robin Hood: The Panto there’s constant audience participation, booing the nasty Sheriff, feeding Robin’s ego, doing the actions when Maid Martini is mentioned. The set – boxes of wrapped Christmas presents (shared with the venue’s adult offering Belfast Actually 2) – makes a great multi-level playground for chasing characters. There are fart jokes, a bit of tickling, a mention of Ozempic, some CPR, a very creepy Trump (“quiet piggy”), and inflatable baubles thrown into the audience. And that’s before children burst into song when Raining Tacos returns for a second year. Willing audience members are brought up on stage and gamely join in the action. The actors move into the auditorium in the second act. It’s organised chaos and great, great fun.

To be honest I was all at sixes and sevens and feeling my age trying to place some of the cultural references. (Rizzler, not Rizla the rolling paper, aha!) But writer, director and producer Sarah Lyle is clearly down with the kids as the young audience members around me were totally in the zone and following every song, meme and mention. Doechii’s Anxiety is apt during incarceration though it’s Jailhouse Rock that has all the adults humming along to McCarron’s excellent Elvis impersonation.

While parts of the boo-tastic opening scene felt a bit forced, Ferguson is soon comfortable as the villain and never disappoints during his songs, his rap or his big Riverdance moment. Shaw’s singing voice soars throughout and her Maid Martini oozes warm confidence and inner steel, not to mention a lorra, lorra laughs in a blind dating scene. McClure’s falsetto helps create a big sound for the snowy pre-interval Underneath the Tree.

An ensemble is populated by a volunteer community cast who join in with dance routines and appear as Merry Men and the Sheriff’s sinister faceless underlings.

McClure impressed with his silk work in Cinderella last Christmas, but casting him as the dame this year is a stroke of genius. Even without the sound effects, he makes good use of Dame Joan’s curvy assets, though dangling upside-down from a rope above the stage almost causes a wardrobe malfunction. He has a really comfortable rapport with the audience that always gets the last laugh without anyone being humiliated. This shouldn’t be the last time McClure works as a dame.

As the curtain came down for the last time, one youngster sitting behind me proclaimed “That. Was. Amaaaaaazing.” And that’s the voice of an expert you should be listening too. Parents also commented that the ticket prices were substantially less expensive than city centre productions and the drinks and snacks were a lot cheaper.

Theatre at the Mill has a long history of quality festive entertainment and Yellow Jumper’s Robin Hood is no exception. The show runs until Saturday 3 January.

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Belfast Actually 2 – serving up chivalry, compromise and stacks of Christmas cheese (Theatre At The Mill until Saturday 3 January)

Walking out of a Christmas show with a smile on your face should almost be the aim of producers. Leesa Harker and Andrea Montgomery are back in Theatre at the Mill with a follow-up to last year’s gem.

Belfast Actually 2 isn’t afraid to acknowledge that not everyone has a perfect life or has two beans to rub together. Right from the start, the bawdy jokes earn hearty laughs from the audience as The Farmer Wants a Wife Christmas Festival gets underway. Montgomery emphasises the tough situations everyone is facing before sprinkling liberal quantities of Christmas cheese over the story.

The first half flies as we get to know the main characters.

Mary (Jo Donnelly) has come to the wife-grabbing contest with a secret agenda. Farmer Jack (Patrick McBrearty) thinks he knows what he’s looking for but meets his match as he progresses through the rounds. In and out of court Lola (Eimear Bailie) is street smart and book smart. Her new probation officer Max (Adam Gillian) recognises huge potential, but Lola doesn’t want to be ‘fixed’ by this ‘melter’ of a man. Established romantic fiction writer Georgina (Emma Little-Lawless) has an overdue book contract, a pushy publisher, a gammy wrist, and no ideas left for the sweltering sex scenes her readers demand. When younger Kimberley (Matthew O’Leary) shows up on the doorstep to help, her idea of what kind of assistance she needs is turned upside down.

Harker knows her audience and makes them giggle with a song about Viagra, a snowy East 17 cover at the interval (mostly for the craic rather than the plot!), and a book reading that had the third row in conniptions.

Lots of secondary characters come and go as the cast of six’s main parts drift towards possible coupledom. The appearance of a puppet influencer is quite left field, but McBrearty’s reprise of older widow Alison from last year’s show proves to be the returning audience members’ favourite. Scenes regularly break into song, with a aptly localised version of Fairytale of New York (The Pogues) impressing along with an 11 o’clock rendition of You’re The One That I Want (Grease).

Adam Gillian’s first act performance of Maria (West Side Story) is electrifying and shows off his tenor voice. (Hoobastank’s The Reason in the second act is too slow and ponderous and threatens to drain energy from the otherwise well-paced storytelling.) His duet with Lola also gives Bailie a chance to shine. (Back in 2019 she memorably played Tony Macaulay’s love interest Sharon Burgess in BYMT’s Paperboy.)

David Craig’s set from 2024 is ‘regifted’ in fresh wrapping paper. Snow falls. A glitterball sparkles. Chivalry isn’t dead. Self-belief is fragile. Some people can find it in themselves to compromise. Lots of local references tickle the audience. By the time the finale arrives, people are shouting out encouragement to the men on stage who may be about to be swept off their feet by strong women.

Belfast Actually 2 runs until Saturday 3 January in the Theatre At The Mill.

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Pinocchio – spectacle triumphs over story in this glitzy pantomime (Grand Opera House until Sunday 11 January)

The Grand Opera House pantomime is certainly a big show in town. Veteran performer May McFettridge is serenaded onto the stage (for the 35th year) with her own song. This year she’s playing the toymaker May Geppetto, creator of the Pinocchio puppet who has turned into a real boy (Adam C Booth). Together with Jiminy Cricket (Paddy Jenkins in his 20th year in a row with May) and the Blue Faerie (Jayme-Lee Zanoncelli), they must help the boy “look for the small voice inside to tell right from wrong” or else face turning back into a puppet.

They’re up against The Great Stromboli (Jolene O’Hara again revelling in the role of the baddie) and her two animal sidekicks – Kitty the Cat (Maeve Byrne) and Phyllis the Fox (Philippa O’Hara) – who plan to kidnap the boy who is economic with the truth and take him to Fantasy Island. (While the script is heavily localised, this watery destination doesn’t cue up any Stephen Nolan jokes, and other shows would have thrown in a Hope Street reference for Jenkins.)

It’s big and brash. Lots of special effects and props are used for a minute or two (sometimes a lot less) and then retired. Pinocchio flies upside down over the heads of the front rows of the audience. A pyrotechnic flash marks every entrance Zanoncelli makes from stage right. There are plenty of fart noises, musical lyric puns, and unfinished risqué sentences.

Although the plot takes a very deliberate jump forward in time over the interval, the story is understood by all to be secondary to the spectacle. A brief cameo by what could pass for the Gallagher brothers is brilliantly staged even though its relevance to the plot is lost in the laughter.

Jenkins’ glittery green outfit shimmers (though sadly his top hat and antennae are too quickly ditched). O’Hara’s Stromboli costume enjoys enormous split shoulders and a whip. Pinocchio’s extending nose could literally put someone’s eye out. The ensemble have taller feathers and so many more of them than NI Opera’s recent Follies.

‘Uncle’ Phil Shute in the orchestra pit with his live band of four pump out an excruciatingly loud soundtrack throughout. Well known songs are rewritten (eg, Achy Breaky Heart). Classics like In The Navy and YMCA are repurposed. A second act rendition of Don’t Stop Me Now is the musical highlight, showcasing the powerful voices of the O’Hara sisters and Byrne.

While the variety act (like Flawless that might have flown in from Britain’s Got Talent) has been dropped in recent years, they’re not really missed. The audience are there for the glamour and the glitz. Booth’s zany comedy and endless energy add sparkle to every scene he’s in. (Though what’s with those pockets in his waistcoat?!)

But as the cast take their bows and head to the wings, it is McFettridge/Linehan who lingers on stage, as if basking in the warmth of the audience to recharge his batteries for the next performance. It’s a brutal schedule with 12 shows a week.

Pinocchio runs at the Grand Opera House until Sunday 11 January.

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Belfast Boy – baring his soul on a bare stage (Kat Woods at Lyric Theatre until 29 November)

Jamie can’t sleep and his London GP would prefer to get to the root cause rather than send his patient out with tablets. Belfast Boy is a confessional piece of theatre that listens in on Jamie’s first session with his ‘head doctor’.

Conor Cupples steps on stage as Jamie, a hesitant figure entering the office and taking the empty seat. When he’s full of stimulants, Jamie can be an extrovert, a night club diva with all the moves. But faced with a psychologist, he’s a nervous individual, at times blurting out almost unfiltered thoughts, and psyching himself up to make what he feels are some of the more major admissions about his coming of age.

His Protestant family grew up in Belfast but were forced out and moved to England. While nothing in his life jumps out to Jamie as being cause for his insomnolence, the audience quickly lose count of the traumatic events and stressful experiences that he has survived.

The set consists of a simple white chair. There are no props. Cupples’ gift of rapidly shifting into and out of different accents is aided by the effective overhead lighting to quickly move in and out of asides and memorable incidents. (His brother Vinto receiving orders from the UVF is accompanied by a neat red, white and blue wash.) Sound effects blast in when phones ring or Jamie plays a video on his phone, but Massive Attack’s Teardrop is one of the few moments when incidental music plays to enhance the mood of a scene rather than being mentioned in the dialogue.

I’ve seen two productions of another (later) Kat Woods play – Wasted (Pintsized Productions and Bruiser) – a two handed show that I described at the time as “a sweaty and sweary examination of consensual sex within the context of a one-night stand and binge drinking culture”. Belfast Boy is no less deftly written, but the pace is deliberately much slower and the overall energy remains more subdued.

Issues of consent are also present in Belfast Boy, along with an exploration of sexuality, assault, sectarian hate, domestic violence and the perils of half inching other people’s property. Cupples brings it all to life with a confident performance that never lets go of Jamie’s diffidence as he processes his life and times.

Previously performed at the Edinburgh Fringe by Declan Perring, the former ‘Belfast Boy’ has to explain concepts from his troubled life back home (like the UVF and The Falls) to a ‘mainland’ practitioner unfamiliar with Norn Iron affairs. By the end of the hour-long session, the layers of protection and memory have begun to be stripped off, and Jamie – along with the audience acting as the psychologist – realise that plenty more remains to be revealed over the next five visits.

Belfast Boy was performed in the Lyric Theatre’s Naughton Studio on 28 and 29 November.

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Pillion – Harry Lighton’s strong directorial debut with a tale of biker bondage (QFT and others from Friday 28 November)

Peggy would like her son to settle down with a nice fella before her cancer catches up with her. So she doesn’t complain when Colin goes out on a date on Christmas night. Probably best she never realises about the festive fellatio out the back of Primark that marks the beginning of her sweet Colin learning about his love of submission over dominance. Soon he’s wearing a padlock and chain around his neck while the sullen and mysterious Ray keeps the key on his own finer necklace.

Screenwriter and director Harry Lighton walks a tightrope of portrayal in Pillion. Colin (Harry Melling) works as a traffic war and performs in a barbershop quartet. He’s made out to be square and boring, although never in a cartoonish manner. But it contributes to making Colin’s willing exploration of BDSM so much more shocking.

Alexander Skarsgård’s Ray is tall, rugged, aggressive and a man of few words. Adopting a domineering attitude towards Colin isn’t an act of roleplay. It’s real, dismissive and reeks of coercive control. (Adam Mars-Jones’ original novel Box Hill is apparently even more troubled at the start of their kink-driven situationship.) Ray stubbornly remains an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in biking leathers.

Ultimately, Pillion becomes dark love story – a ‘dom-com’ according to some reviews – about Colin’s understanding of what brings him pleasure (does he really have “an aptitude for obedience”?), and the audience being forced to decide whether there’s a willing or unwilling power imbalance in this degrading relationship. When Ray finally comes over for Sunday dinner with Colin’s family, Peggy makes it quite clear whose side she’s on!

Lighton’s extraordinary directorial debut finds room for laughter alongside the abuse. Skarsgård and Melling achieve an on-screen intensity that sizzles. Watch out for a memorable prosthetic with a ‘Prince Albert’ piercing. A final rendition of Smile Though Your Heart is Breaking neatly mirrors the tuneful opening scene and helps the audience escape from the bondage back into a less fraught world.

Pillion is being screened in the Queen’s Film Theatre. Amazingly, it’s also playing in Cineworld Belfast and some Omniplex cinemas.

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Jack and the Beanstalk – rags and riches, poverty and privilege, a cow, some beans and a silent chicken (GBL Productions at Waterfront, extended until Sunday 11 January)

Jack is the boy who dares to dream. His widowed mother, Dame Polly Ester, runs a dress ‘shap’. Milkshake the cow zooms across the stage on a scooter, later inviting us all to be part of ‘the Moo Crew’. Jack’s taken with a girl called Jill who might be hiding her privilege. Her dad is also single and looking for love. This year’s Waterfront panto – Jack and the Beanstalk – has rags and riches, a subtle smattering of teenage hormones, a cow that should really be traded for cash, and a beanstalk climbing up towards the heavens.

Into this familiar world strides Swindleworth, with a pot belly and black and white striped trousers. The audience, young and old, know to boo before being told.

Jay Hutchinson gives off a whiff of haughty criminality – “as trustworthy as a Translink timetable” – with his character commanded to steal gold by his boss, the great Giant Causeway. Hutchinson milks every scene and becomes a real audience favourite.

Warren McCook has springs on the soles of his feet as he bounces around the stage like a teenager hooked on Monster. Sé Carr’s Milkshake is relentlessly upbeat. Meabh Quinn’s King Fluster is possessive of his child but mellows to become a warm character on stage.

Johanna Johnston matches McCook’s energy with an endearingly shrill performance as Jack’s coy and giddy best friend forever. They effortlessly duet, with an early sign of their talent their cover of Die With a Smile (“If the world was ending I'd wanna be next to you”).

No Waterfront pantomime would be complete without copious opportunities to run through the auditorium, and a chance for the villain to use a super soaker on the audience.

The cartoonish set matches the brashly coloured costumes. The choreography is boppy. Lighting effects are synced with sound effects and Jack’s dream of being a hero. I’d love to be able to name the creative team, but other than director Chris Robinson, details weren’t provided. (Update - set and costume design by Diana Ennis, lighting design by Conleth White, and music by Katie Richardson music.) 

Ciaran Haggerty’s script revels in Hope Street jokes, audience participation, and clever wordplay. While adults in the audience might not recognise where they’ve heard some of the tunes before, anyone of primary school age recognises snatches of KPop Demon Hunters and may even jump up to do the actions unasked.

So far so good. The key ingredients of a great pantomime are all present. Aspects of the production are really well tuned to the target clientele. Yet what comes out of the oven is unevenly cooked.

If opening night (following a few days of previews) is typical, the show is too long, with a half-hearted audience singalong eeking out the runtime even further. Relegated to the end, the competitive singing is normally a filler while the rest of the cast would be off getting changed into their wedding finery (except budgets don’t extend to having new costumes for the final number). This year’s singalong could usefully be ditched.

The inclusion of a wordless chicken Nugget (played by Niamh Canning) who lays unseen golden eggs is a total mystery. It takes a long time before the titular beans arrive and grow into a beanstalk. With a brutal schedule of “three shows a day” as we were too oft reminded, the Dame’s threadbare banter with the audience has a lot of opportunity to mature and improve. More salty comments across more people in the first few rows would definitely help cement the pantomime spirit.

Jack and the Beanstalk is produced by GBL Productions and its run has been extended at the Waterfront Studio until Sunday 11 January.

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Jack Frost – stunning production design brings the ambition of opera to a frozen world of lore (The MAC until Thursday 1 January 2026)

Jack Frost is an ambitious new show that creates a snowy adventure full of peril by weaving together strands of disparate mythology and festive lore with bright music and stunning production design. The MAC’s main Christmas show – one of three that will be running in the building – takes the figure of ‘old man winter’ and injects it with Allison Harding’s rich imagination. Soon the master of cold is joined by friend Neve, an owl (Hoot), a snowman (knowingly named Jon Snow) and eventually St Nicholas to fight back against the dark plans of Cailleach and Krampus.

I’ve been attending and reviewing Christmas shows for a long time, and Jack Frost is almost uniquely difficult to categorise. At this time of the year, many shows aim to leave you with a big warm hug. This one entertains and surprises while keeping the festive cheer to a minimum and shunning schmaltz. The design and musicality are very operatic: no huge surprise given NI Opera’s chief executive is the director, and his hand is all over the sumptuous detailing of the multi-layered costumes and elaborate headpieces. A number of his regular creative collaborators from the opera world contribute to this show.

Niall McKeever’s monochromatic set is a bold gamble that pays off. An intricate miniature village lights up to give a sense that Jack Frost and his friends are sitting outside humanity. White pyramids with sleek lines zoom across the stage on castors. An enormous snow globe – technically some kind of spherical bell – hangs over the stage, doubling up as a screen for interjections by King Alban (Richard Croxford) and Queen Thaloria (Colette Lennon). The chilly look is later warmed up by the appearance of the more colourful Saint Nicholas.

This is a dark tale of menace, anxiety, fatal blows and the chance that the hidden village of Lunareth, and indeed the whole world, is about to change forever. The first ten minutes comprise of a long voice-over followed by a snowball fight while dancing and singing in harmony. Only then do we witness the first conversation and hear the character voices of Jack and Neve. But once they start talking, there’s no stopping them. Parts of the dialogue in the first half wouldn’t be amiss in the form of a soliloquy on stage at The Globe. Turn the snowman into a fellow with a mid-life crisis and the owl into a psychologist, and it could nearly pass for a French baroque tragedy.

After the interval – which gloriously, yet pertaining to little or nothing in the plot, begins with Hoot the owl getting a moment in the spotlight and losing his snark to turn into a strigine version of Shirley Bassey – the pace picks up as the gang of five help Jack Frost quickly work his way through a riddle, a choice and a challenge, and reach the final facedown to save winter from relative disaster. The puppetry extends its ambition from a single owl to include large scale shadow figures.

Jennifer Rooney’s rich choreography is demanding, particularly in some of the musical numbers. Katie Richardson’s brilliant score brings drums to the fore when peril is at its height and throws in sleigh bells for the slightly too cheesy final number. The cast continue singing while taking their bows which seemed to impede last night’s audience from feeling it was time to applaud. The committed cast deserve a longer moment to bask in the gratitude for a job well done.

Allison Harding finds space in her script and lyrics (there’s a great verse that rhymes “chaos” with “delicious”) to take fun jibes at performance art and adult concerns for structural integrity and dignity. But the darkness soon returns with ominous lines: “soon the children will wake screaming in the night”.

As an adult I found myself leaning into the world-building and the unfolding mythology that was very unfamiliar. (If, like me, winter folklore was skipped over in your primary school, Cailleach is a Celtic crone and Krampus is a half goat/half demon from Alpine traditions.) A bit too much concentration required. The occasional video appearances by the Queen and King seemed superfluous.

While the modern cinematic approach of cutting scenes sooner than expected (“arrive late, leave early”) and allowing the audience to fill in the gaps or live with ambiguity doesn’t quite translate to stage, there’s an element of over-explaining that slows down the first act. Jack Frost is a show that’s can’t easily be left to wash over you. Children in the audience seemed to be fascinated by Jonathan M Daley’s dramatic lighting and McKeever’s playful set, and some even sang along with the chorus of the original songs. A lot of younger weans ended up sitting on an adult’s knee, a place of comfort and safety from which to watch this tale of uncertainly unfold. At times this show looks more fun to act in than to watch.

Conor Quinn’s Jack Frost has lots of energy and a good rapport with Eimear Fearon’s Neve who gives off big sister energy coaching Jack through his fears and lack of self-confidence. Together they share a sweet duet in the second act. Darren Franklin once again proves his versatility playing Jon Snow, beginning as an actual snowman with twig arms and fingers, and then as a reformed figure (“no longer made of snow … a fully formed bloke”) who spends much of the first act talking to himself until others take over his existential angst after the interval. (Watch out for the ‘farty’ sound effect when Jon Snow moves.) Mark Dugdale joyously brings to life the puntastic and sardonic owl who feels “bird-ened with responsibility”. Sean Kearns’ St Nicholas is immediately a figure who can be trusted, accessorised with demi-lune glasses, a red cardigan and slippers.

Nine years ago, Rosie Barry was stomping around the MAC stage as Primrose, a sulky teenager with a 3DS (can anyone remember those!), returning the next Christmas as Gretel in a reimagined fairy tale that ended with her closing the show seated at a teary piano. Now she’s back as a baddie, the villainous Cailleach, dressed in dark icy layers and a vicious fringe that would perfect for late night partying on Hill Street. Her expansive vocals rock Richardson’s melodies and turn them into power ballads, blending so well with Jack Watson’s baritone voice (Krampus) giving the two baddies great presence on stage.

Jack Frost is produced by the MAC and continues its run until Thursday 1 January.

Photo credit: Carrie Davenport 

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Lesbian Space Princess // Ulster Says No: The Year of Disorder – Belfast Film Festival #bff25

From the blurb in the Belfast Film Festival programme, it was clear that Thursday evening’s Australian animation Lesbian Space Princess had a lot of creativity behind it: “Straight White Maliens” kidnapping the ex-girlfriend of a royal princess who sets off on a quest to get her back. The concept of “maliens” is genius.

The witty script throws in a lot of clever dialogue, along with universal observations around sexism and reflections on lesbian experience in relationships. White men complain about once being the “most powerful beings in the universe … but we’ve been forgotten”. Their “chick magnet” did not function as intended. Queer love does not run smooth.

Feature debut writers/directors Emma Hough Hobbs and Leela Varghese have deserved utter confidence their material is good enough that it only needs to be said once. (Office Politics, cough.) It’s all very tongue in cheek, so don’t be surprised to find a Royal Pussy living on the “famously hard to find” planet Clitopolis.

Despite being a lesbian whose coming of age has publicly stalled, self doubt-laden Saira (voiced by Shabana Azeez) steps out of her comfort zone to fly off in a Problematic Ship (brought to life with thick sarcasm by Richard Roxburgh) to rescue the much cooler Kiki (Bernie Van Tiel). A former gay-pop idol Willow (Gemma Chua-Tran) lends more than a helping hand.

The animation is psychedelic and contributes to the surreal nature of the film. The stereotypes are well drawn. The original songs (Varghese) are whimsical yet beautiful. Profound commentary is wrapped up in quirky scenes. A tiny penis is (frankly deservedly and comically) harmed in the making of this film.

The small audience in The Avenue Cinema made a lot of noise as we chuckled at the gags. (It was my first visit to the upmarket cinema and I still haven’t got over the table lights staying on, people ordering skinny chips and mushroom pizzas to their seats, and the sound of people chewing throughout the first fifteen minutes of the film.)

When its festival run finally concludes, I’d hope that the riotous and inventive gem Lesbian Space Princess will return to somewhere like the Queen’s Film Theatre sometime next year.

Saturday afternoon saw the screening of Ulster Says No: The Year of Disorder. It’s the product of a partnership between the UTV Archive and Northern Ireland Screen. Director Evan Marshall combed through two years of UTV news reports to craft a 90 minute that charts the build-up and eventual decline of loyalist and unionist protests and unrest in reaction to the London and Dunlin governments signed the Anglo-Irish Agreement.

It’s the mid-1980s and Dennis Taylor was potting snooker balls while Barry McGuigan was knocking out opponents in the boxing ring. The Sinclair C5 was launched to a sceptical public. The two governments hoped that their agreement would foster an atmosphere where peace could grow. The launch wasn’t met with raised eyebrows, but active protest by loyalists and unionists (and rejection by Sinn Féin who saw it as “the formal recognition of the partition of Ireland”).

Strangely I’m more aware of the Falklands conflict in 1982 than this period of local history, despite growing up in a house where Good Morning Ulster was the soundtrack to breakfast. 

We watch politicians warn that violence is inevitable one night, only to condemn the actions of people they distance themselves from the next morning. A picture builds up of political anger that was channelled into mobilising members of the public out onto the streets. Violence broke out at the edges of every mass rally in Belfast. Unionist politicians blame republicans and the NIO’s “dirty tricks department” for incidents of loyalist violence.

We see the owner of SS Moore inspecting the damage to his Chichester Street premises which was looted for golf balls to throw at the police. (The sports store permanently closed this week.)

There is much talk of “quislings” (enemy collaborators), a term which has fallen out of the political lexicon. Fresh faced politicians who are now veterans are seen at every major event: curly haired Jim Wells, Nigel Dodds, Peter and Iris Robinson, Jim Allister, Sammy Wilson, Jeffrey Donaldson with a terrible bowl haircut. But it’s the twin figures of Ian Paisley and Jim Molyneaux who provide the drum beat of the 18 months of fevered protest. Paisley calls the Secretary of State Tom King a “yellow bellied coward”.

The DUP leader opines that “this is a war … this is no garden party or picnic … This could come to hand-to-hand fighting .. we’re on the verge of a civil war in Northern Ireland” would also call for the “organisation” and “mobilisation” of forces opposed to the Agreement. Later, loyalist leaders would say there would be “no violence in this phase of the protest” but warnings were also given that unionists needed to be “prepared to go to violence” if necessary to stand up to the continued implementation of the Agreement.

Alongside the backdrop of ‘ordinary’ attacks and murder in The Troubles, this new set of politically-motivated unionist events are serious – Keith White was shot in the face with a plastic bullet and died in hospital on 14 April 1986 – but aspects of what unfolds is also pretentious and unserious.

Unionist politicians take over the phone switchboard in Parliament Buildings and barricade themselves in, even intercepting a call from a Cabinet minister to a Belfast colleague. From their vantage point outside the building, the camera crew’s microphone picks up the sound of the internal door being broken down.

John McMichael (Ulster Democratic Party and prominent figure in the UDA) swerves reporters’ questions but indirectly makes clear that violence may be the only option. There is talk of “laying down lives rather than surrender”. The 400-strong border village of Clontibret is invaded on 7 August 1986 and “held” for around half an hour. unarmed Gardaí were beaten up.

Peter Robinson was arrested and eventually fined 17,500 punts. Peter Robinson is also seen among those wearing a red beret in an Ulster Resistance parade in Portadown. The end credits note that guns imported by Ulster Resistance were used in many murders and attacks in subsequent years.

While the politicians are most often seen and heard on screen, UTV journalist Ivan Little’s reporting stands out. His rhetorical flourishes provide a lot of colour and prick the pomposity of some incidents. The hanging of mayoral chains on a barbed wire fence erected at Stormont Castle signifying the “death of democracy” was “somewhat undermined when [they were] retrieved 15 minutes later”.

The footage from the time was captured in a standard definition 4:3 aspect ratio. Stylistically, it’s unfortunate that the captions sometimes ignore those boundaries and extend into the black bars at the side.

Editor Paul McClintock does a fine job in cutting down reports to pick out the most salient points. While journalism is only ever “the first rough draft of history”, these clips from the UTV archive paint a picture of the mood and depth of feeling in late 1985 and throughout 1986. School history and politics teachers will be keen to get access to the snappy reprise of this important period.

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Marjorie’s Dead – mixing laughs and legend in this tale of a woman who lived once, buried twice (Dark Forest Theatre at Grand Opera House until Saturday 8 November)

Marjorie McCall’s husband is the local doctor. John wasn’t able to properly diagnose or cure the sudden illness that cut her young life short. The undertakers don’t quite finish the job, leaving the coffin above ground and covered in an eighteenth-century tarpaulin. They’ll come back later after a few scoops at the local hostelry. In the meantime, graverobbers fancy their chances selling her wedding ring.

Starting at the wake house – quite a familiar device in Belfast theatre! – the fourth wall-breaking Marjorie’s Dead soon unravels the backstory of how this woman ended up with an overbearing husband who didn’t share her vision of an island steeped in folklore and wonder. She believes in spirits, rejoices in the beautifully rich landscapes, marvels at legends. Yet she’s about to become a legend herself: the Lurgan woman who was buried twice.

Dark Forest Theatre love lifting the lid on family secrets.Nathan Martin’s take on the premature burial of Marjorie McCall weaves her story around that of Oisín and Tir na nÓg. Through her astute brother Cian (played by Martin) we hear how Marjorie came to be lying in a rural forest burial plot. Through her logical and disrespectful husband John (Tiarnán McCarron) we understand how she became trapped in a marriage with a monster.

Thursday’s matinee audience did a good job of picking up the social commentary and there was much tutting and sharp intakes of breath in moments when John took decisions on behalf of Marjorie (like deciding to marry her, his proposal lacking a question mark) and when he revealed the chillier side to his character. And there were laughs when truth was spoken:

“Be careful Mr McCall, you’re speaking to a Lurgan woman!”

The nature of this three-handed play requires Annina Noelle Watton to deliver a series of lengthy monologues, alone with just a couple of beautiful trees and some stumps to work with. While there’s a lot of material to get through, and there’s a lot of attention taken to creating and preserving the sense of atmosphere, parts of the delivery would benefit from being less rushed and given more space to breathe. Marjorie interprets her life against the unfolding tale of Oisín (differentiated from the main action by being performed stage right) which gives depth to the thin details known about the circumstances of her life and deaths.

Marjorie’s Dead mixes laughs and legend. McCarron and Martin (who also directs) make a good comedy double act. Watton is solid as the titular character, although there would be room to ramp up the more bohemian side to the character to emphasise her otherworldly nature. The short run in the Grand Opera House studio space sold well and finishes this evening. Dark Forest Theatre continues to demonstrate its talent in relating tales of the unexpected.

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Underscore // Housejackers – two feature films enhanced by Phil Kieran’s scores – Belfast Film Festival #bff25

Two very different films celebrated their world premieres at Belfast’s Odeon Cinema last night as part of Belfast Film Festival. One thing linked them: banging soundtracks from Phil Kieran.

Underscore is a genre busting feature, an experimental film, part poem, part guided meditation, and part cautionary tale about the state of the Earth. Real and special effects landscapes and creatures are fused together. It’s ages before the back of a man appears on screen, and local audiences will immediately recognise Granda Joe Granda Aodhán (Ian McElhinney) from any angle.

One of the film’s concepts will be familiar to fans of Star Trek: Discovery with its ‘spore drive’ taking advantage of the ‘mycelial network’. In Underscore, Laoise (Jessica Reynolds) must educate her grandfather about the mushroom network that allows fungi talk to each other. The film is a cry for people to better connect themselves with the Earth before it’s too late.

Shots jump from macro to micro. What feel like a solid animated structures morph into other forms and then back again. It’s like weaving through a three-dimensional fractal. One of the most sophisticated scenes comes in the shape of feathery fish. The biggest wow moment comes when the fish dissolve into a pastoral scene shot from above. By that stage of the film, the trancelike music and visuals have worked their magic and you barely notice the transition until it’s happened.

Reading that last paragraph without having seen the film may make it sound like a cinema full of people willing took a particularly vivid trip courtesy of some magic mushrooms. No mushrooms were harmed in the viewing of the film. But coming just a couple of hours after attending a heartbreaking funeral, attending the screening of Underscore did prove to be a calming and therapeutic intervention.

It will be interesting to see where Underscore goes. It would be perfect to watch wearing a virtual reality headset, although you need the big bass subs and surround sound of a proper cinema to do Kieran’s music justice and become absorbed in the mood. It might also work projected onto a curved screen that you could walk into the middle of and become consumed by Glenn Marshall’s visuals and the soundtrack. Watch this space to see how Hugh McGrory’s masterpiece develops.

The second premiere had to be switched to a larger screen to accommodate the strong interest. Housejackers watches the chaos wreaked on a student flat as Jerdy invites himself to stay with his foster brother.

While the flat is populated with some predictable stereotypes, the characters are (mostly) sympathetically written. Shauna is ditzy and has her own line in ukelele electronic music (played by Saorlaoith Brady). Raymond (Finnian Garbutt) works in the local filling station shop and is secretly studying for his GCSE Maths exam. Lucy (Eubha Akilade) is a hard-working and kind-hearted medical student who mostly has Raymond’s back. Bobby (Ryan Dylan) is the unlikeable posh fun-sponge who looks down his nose at Raymond’s less refined background.

Actor John Travers regularly wows audiences on the stage with his brash delivery of one-person theatre shows that are full of energy. He’s perfectly cast as Jerdy, the driving force of the film. Jerdy could start a party in an empty room. But one glare could also kill the mood at any celebration. He’s a tad younger than Raymond, but the pair were fostered around the same time by ‘Nan’. They’re good company for each other but might potentially lead each other astray. They may not be blood relatives, but in the past they were as close as brothers in criminal escapades for which Jerdy served time but Raymond escaped and took full advantage of his second chance. Now Jerdy is back and is winding Raymond back into his destructive orbit.

The cast turn in performances that match the intensity of the story arc. Director Rian Lennon and screenwriters David Kline and Brian McGleenon gently demonstrate Raymond’s insecurities to the audience in contrast to Jerdy’s extreme heart-on-sleeve unfiltered personality that bursts into all his scenes. The filling station is the location most steeped in humour, yet also the venue for the most brutal violence.

Housejackers certainly provoked lots of conversations on the way out of the screening. The wider fostering network may well recognise the pressures Nan is under and the issues she raises. Raymond’s innumeracy is very credible. The film doesn’t judge and never makes fun of Gerdy and Raymond’s circumstances. But is the depiction of looked after children in foster care growing up to lead a life of crime accurate even at one end of the spectrum? Those behaviours definitely exist across society, whether living with birth parents or not.

Confidently directed and beautifully filmed and edited, Housejackers is a quality product. Its future journey through distribution, release and marketing will be interesting to follow. My bet is that it’s more suited to a streaming platform than the cinema given its lack of mainstream appeal. Time will tell.

Two very different films that show off the talent and creativity of Northern Ireland cast and crew. And still three days to go in this year’s Belfast Film Festival.

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