Breaking the unwritten rule that theatre for the over-sevens has to send young audiences out on an upbeat note, Noël Greig's final play is an engaging and often dark piece of storytelling delivered by a single actor, two musicians and an army of traditional and makeshift instruments.
It's Hans Christian Andersen with all the heart but none of the mawkishness. Part ugly duckling story about a one-legged tin soldier who doesn't fit in with the perfect specimens in the box, part adventure and part story of the soldier's unrequited love for a paper ballerina, Greig's version has a rough poetry that is beautifully matched by a musically underscored production. It transforms the story into an aural quilt, from the raspberry fart of a trumpet to some plangent love songs.
If the aural is emphasised, the visual is not neglected, although this is simply staged stuff that always allows plenty of space for the audience to bring their own imagination to bear on the proceedings. The child's nursery-eye view is represented by a tiny piano and a miniature drum kit, and a double bass becomes the rudder and an accordion the wind when the soldier embarks on an epic journey to his birthplace in a paper boat.
As the storyteller, Gary Lagden is commanding, engaging beautifully with his young audience. This may be a small show, but unlike the poor tin soldier, it's pleasingly formed.
