Forget me not

Joe Spurgeon looks at a raft of familiar children’s classics making a reappearance at the Fringe this year

feature (edinburgh) | Read in About 5 minutes
Published 23 Aug 2011

“A friend of mine came to see the show with his kids. He told me they now make him read the stories every night, and after about a month, he suddenly realised he was reading them in the voice of his grandfather, as he had heard them decades previously.”

Piers Beckley, company producer of Red Table Theatre, who have brought Rudyard Kipling’s lyrically nimble Just So Stories (How the Camel Got His Hump, The Crab That Played with the Sea et al) to the Fringe this year, is illustrating the enduring cross-generational power of Kipling’s much-loved tales, first published in 1902.

In fact, though you’d hesitate to call it a trend, it’s impossible to escape the swathes of classic children’s favourites and yesteryear's TV staples making a return at this year’s festival. Shrewd marketing it may be, but there are plenty of parents only too glad of a chance of sharing the joy of live performance with their offspring, while indulging in a bit of fanciful nostalgia too.

Having already picked up top reviews, Bagpuss, the somnolent, toy collecting moggy has already proved a hit with its snappy staging, handheld puppetry and fusion of familiar text with a more modern story arc about a woman revisiting her long forgotten childhood hang-out. Despite only ever starring in 13 BBC episodes, the “old, saggy cloth cat” remains etched on the brains of ’70s and ’80s children, including the director of 2011’s Edinburgh incarnation, Suzanne Gorman. “I remember distinctly having a deep connection with the television programme, but the meaning behind the story, the idea of lost objects which the main [human] character Emily finds then restores; this idea of restoration and recycling goes against our throw-away culture and fits perfectly for 2011.

“From a child’s perspective, it opens up the world around them so whatever they pick up, wherever they are, they can give that object an identity and a story. It comes from within them. Let’s not forget, it’s often just you and your child at home on a rainy day with just your house full of stuff. You can never get away from simple things; children have a different experience of the world than they did 30 years ago, but they still apply their imaginations in the same way.”

Over at the Pleasance Courtyard, another fondly-remembered BBC hero is slipping into something a little more comfortable. Mr Benn, the bowler hat-sporting everyman who stumbles across a magical fancy dress shop and a whole world of wonder, is also enjoying a new lease of life. The show, cramming a handful of songs, dances and costumed adventures into an exceptionally physical, deft four-hander, is directed by London theatre outfit Tall Stories’ Toby Mitchell: “Mr Benn has endured because he’s universal, he’s a child, he’s an adult. [Original creator] David McKee has been great and hasn’t made any demands; he’s just let us get on with it. When he came to see it, he gave a little speech beforehand and said ‘when you create a character, it’s a bit like a child, and sometimes that child grows up and wants to go and do things on their own, Mr Benn is my child and he’s gone off and done this without me, and I, like you, am waiting to see what’s going to happen.’”

Did Tall Stories take many liberties? “Well we had to have ‘And suddenly, the shopkeeper appeared.’ And we had to have souvenirs too, that’s vital. David McKee was very big on that because that’s his proof that it all happened. We’ve changed the characters slightly—the shopkeeper’s not as much of a posh gentleman, he’s more earthy—and we’ve used bits of the music, too. We thought hard about that, but we thought that for those that know it, they’ll love it, and for those that don’t, it doesn’t matter.”

So as the adults and ankle-biters gleefully pile in in one happy mass, is the children/family/kids pigeonholing increasingly redundant?

“I don’t know about you, but I quite often get bored watching grown-up theatre,” adds Mitchell. “I don’t think grown-up theatre tries hard enough. I think it says ‘here’s a show, we hope you like it; if you don’t, it doesn’t matter, it’s art.’ In Shakespeare’s day, that wouldn’t have been the case. They had to work bloody hard, much more like children’s theatre. I think if more grown-up theatre had the energy of some children’s or family theatre, a lot more adults would go. It’s all about a good story, told well.”

Director of the Just So Stories, Rafe Beckley agrees: “There is no such thing as children’s theatre. There is only theatre. Sure, think about where you are aiming it, but ‘children’s theatre’ has so much baggage – spin-off shows that the children have seen on telly that the adults just sit through for an hour’s peace. Let’s lose the tagging – it’s obvious it’s for children, just look at the poster, then relax and enjoy.”