Dick Whittington and His Cat pantomime at Hackney Empire – review

T S Eliot’s Prufrock may have used coffee spoons, but I shall measure my life in pantos, and Hackney’s in particular. And it’s always heartening to see Clive Rowe back in harness (or corset), once again taking on both Dame and directing duties.

He gets a splendid array of outfits from designer Cleo Pettitt as Sarah the Cook, who helps out at the Aldi belonging to Alderman Fitzwarren (Tony Timberlake), which is threatened by rats until the arrival of honey-voiced bumpkin Dick Whittington (Kandaka Moore) and his cat Tommy (Kat B). Can they save the day and prevent King Rat (Graham Macduff) from taking over?

As usual, Hackney leans heavily into its ‘trad’ elements – backcloths, live band, slop routines and all – and boasts no shortage of all-company jazz hands routines. The second act includes a medley of classic pop hits performed by the talented ensemble on the island of ‘Ee-El-Pie’, where the story culminates following a shipwreck.

The jokes peppering Will Brenton’s script aren’t particularly topical (one about Liz Truss feels like it was left in from 2022), and Steven Edis’s score has at least three songs too many. Nevertheless, every principal gets their turn to shine, especially Moore, whose vocal talents in the title role are paved with gold, while Kat B performs an eye-catching iridescent undersea sequence.

The star of the show is, of course, the enduringly ebullient Rowe, who can hurl sweets to the top rows and deliver a lengthy monologue of food puns with his eyes closed. And he nonchalantly smashes his big number when he performs “Don’t Rain On My Parade” bedecked in a stunning ship dress (‘Hello Buoys’) replete with roller-coaster headdress. His natural feel for the deceptively difficult demands of damehood only seems to grow.

However, charming as it all may be, his production is lacking a bit of edge. It feels like it has the handbrake on, stopping short of going fully overboard (pardon the mixed metaphor). That lack of topicality takes its toll – there’s surely no shortage of potential in a year that has seen the reelection of Trump – and much of the material is just rather tepid (a line comparing politicians to rats doesn’t cut it). A pass from a decent gagsmith would have worked wonders.

But there’s nothing drab about the visuals, Pettitt’s dazzling array of backdrops and Tim Mitchell’s ‘turn it up to 11’ lighting combining to retina-popping effect. Hat tips too to Shay Barclay’s West End-worthy choreography and the five-strong band under musical director Alex Maynard, who ensure the numbers sound magnificent. All told, there’s plenty of wholesome festive fun for both regulars and newcomers to enjoy, even if this particular veteran would like to see a bit more spice added to the mixture next year.