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The Guardian - UK
The Guardian - UK
Entertainment
Lyn Gardner

Watership Down

Watership Down, Lyric Hammersmith, London
Hop to it ... Barry Aird and Daniel Williams in Watership Down. Photograph: Donald Cooper

Such was the success of Richard Adams' tale of warring bunnies in the late 1970s that waggish butchers displayed signs in their windows saying: "You've read the book and seen the film - now eat the cast." The cast of Melly Still's stage production are deliciously athletic, bouncing and somersaulting all over the stage with a hoppity casualness and lashing out kick-boxing and kung-fu style with their lethal hind legs. But you wouldn't want to eat them - because to survive all this they must be tough as old boots. One cast member has already suffered a broken wrist.

Filleted for the stage by Rona Munro, the playwright of the moment, this is very much an alternative Christmas offering for the family that likes its theatre physical, inventive and downright scary. The showdowns between General Woundwort (Barry Aird, with a smile like a razor), who runs his warren with a totalitarian vigour that makes Stalin look quite a sweetie, and the brave Sandleford rabbits are accompanied by sound and visuals that often collude to make you twitch nervously in your seat. Unlike the movie version, there is none of the cosy blandness that leaves you praying for the return of myxomatosis.

The part when the dying rabbits are at last awarded their whiskers and ears like badges of honour is really lovely, but this is not total bunny heaven: those without a passing familiarity with the novel may find themselves confused in the first half. Journeys do not stage well and, until the arrival of the seagull Kehaar (Richard Simmons displaying just the right touch of arrogance and camp), the show lacks a sense of humour. The final visitation of death doesn't have the emotional impact it might because Hazel is never as fully developed a character on stage as he is in the book.

That said, it bounces playfully along and is stuffed not just with outsize vegetables, but with the raw resourcefulness that is a hallmark of Still's work. At its best, the production has an appealing messiness and immediacy that makes you think it is being invented right before your eyes. And it makes you see double: all the humanity in rabbits and all the rabbityness in humans.

· Until January 13. Box office: 0870 050 0511.

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