“The pacing is perfect. Just as one starts to wonder if the energy is ebbing, a fresh riptide of song and participation rolls in.”
Wendy, John, and Michael are all in pajamas, but the siblings aren’t going to bed. Not just yet. They’re telling stories to one another on familiar themes. Pirates, native folk, the Lost Boys, sword fights, and (of course) Peter Pan. Enter the fairy Tinkerbell, so small we can only detect her presence via the sound effect of a bell ringing. Peter’s in trouble, held prisoner by a mutinous deserter from The Jolly Roger, and her captain, James Hook. Wendy announces that she will go alone to save the day, despite the brothers’ whines and protests.
Upstage centre is a mess of boxes and fabric behind which costume changes and bell ringing occur. The height is perfectly judged, forcing the players to come down to the level of the wide eyes gazing back at them. The costumes are basic, student night attire occasionally highlighted with something from the dressing up box. I wanted more, but the show isn’t for me as Granny / Mother-Out-Law censoriously reminds me afterwards.
While the set, lighting, and sound are minimal (perhaps even too minimal), the performances are turbocharged and ultra engaging. From the moment we enter, the smiles are set to max. If bubbly cheeriness were a communicable ailment, we’d all be in quarantine for a month. Jenny Witford, as Wendy, leads the trio. She’s the voice of reason and authority, the Atlas holding up worlds within worlds. Think Graham Chapman in a Monty Python classic, surrounded by an unending pageant of colourful minor characters. Jessica Arden and James Tobin take turns inhabiting (with varying levels of success) each of the personalities Wendy encounters on her journey to find Peter.
The pacing is perfect. Just as one starts to wonder if the energy is ebbing, a fresh riptide of song and participation rolls in. Frankie Meredith jam packs the hour like one of these Facebook videos explaining how if you roll up all your clothes and put your toothbrush in an old water bottle you’ll only need carry on for your 6-8 month around the world adventure. Pace and performance – they’ve got to be done right and Finding Peter gives a masterclass on how to get them right.
Meredith’s script seems to exist on three dramatic planes. The first is the siblings’ collective imagination, their dressing up and acting out. The second is the actors’ interactions through the fourth wall, audience interaction and knowing winks – “Well of course I want you two to come too” Wendy tells her brothers, “but then who would play all the other characters?” The third dramatic plane is Neverland, where most of the action occurs. Perhaps the lines between the planes could have been sharper, the internal logic more rigorous – but, again, who am I to argue when Daughter 1.0 (3 years old) is having such a blast?
This show is for her and it delivers. JM Barry’s familiar themes are delivered even without the “Art budget? Was there an art budget? I thought we had an unending ocean of cash.” advantage of the 2003 movie. Daughter 1.0 comes out of the show buzzing as though she really has been sprinkled with fairy dust. She could fly off at any moment her thoughts are that happy.
The Teviot Wine Bar is a tough space to convincingly fill, especially as this show isn’t getting the audiences it deserves, half a dozen in when we were there. You can do this very talented company and yourself a favour by getting out, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, to see this rollickingly gentle tribute to a classic family favourite.
Reviewer: Dan Lentell (Seen 9 August 2018)