Malory Towers review
Emma Rice’s gloriously silly take on Enid Blyton’s novel series is a collector’s item rather than a masterpiece within her canon
Emma Rice first staged her adaptation on Enid Blyton’s boarding school novel series back in 2019, but the run was cut short because of the pandemic. Six years on, it’s an intriguing piece to remount. Its wholesome, jolly hockey sticks storyline lacks the sparkle, bawdy humour and lurid appeal of her best works. What’s more, it’s layered with a pick ‘n’ mix assortment of songs – spanning jazz, country, gospel and more – that often sit awkwardly on top of the drama. But, under Rice’s direction, it’s gloriously silly, spirited and accessible.
In a plot most closely wedded to the first book of Blyton’s series, we meet the fresh-faced boarders as they ready themselves for their first year at Cornish clifftop school Malory Towers, not long after the Second World War in 1947.
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There’s hot-headed Darrell (Robyn Sinclair), determined to seize all that this castle-esque school has to offer, and smart-mouthed Alicia (Molly Cheesley), for whom it’s all a bit of a joke. Swatty Sally (Bethany Wooding) wants her peers to play by the rules, while bad egg Gwendoline (Rebecca Collingwood) is determined to sabotage their efforts – and make the experience hellish for dorky Mary Lou (Eden Barrie).
Dreamy Irene (Stephanie Hockley) just wants to focus on her music, and Bill (Zoe West), in a decidedly modern twist, is happy enough to be there, thanks to the girls’ unreserved acceptance of what’s hinted to be the character’s gender transition.
The slim cast brings plenty of flair to this vision of a school self-governed by its pupils, and if the absence of peripheral characters – particularly teachers – is felt, it’s playfully handled. Miss Grayling appears as a silhouetted projection (courtesy of Simon Baker), with the voice of Sheila Hancock lending the role some gravitas.
Perhaps the lack of adult influence is a pointed reminder that the real education comes from the characters learning to muddle along as part of a group. Although they’re as quick to bitch and bully one another as they are to bond, the girls manage to steer themselves away from a literal and metaphorical cliff edge eventually, channelling their energies into putting on a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
If it doesn’t all align or ignite as it might, Rice’s vision carries her irresistible brand of charm and whimsy. One winning scene involves the girls going swimming, each morphing into a puppet (designed by Lyndie Wright) before making a splash.
And while the songs don’t always match the narrative, live piano by Hockley and percussion by West lend it a rustic, homemade finish. Lez Brotherston’s cardboard set, which appears like a puppet theatre, is thrillingly animated by Beth Carter and Stuart Mitchell, whose sketches nod to book illustrations.
Still, it’s very much a collector’s item rather than a Rice masterpiece.
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