Paddington The Musical West End review – a paw-fect stage adaptation

One little bear. So much love. Paddington has come a long way since his creation by author Michael Bond in 1958. He’s now one of Britain’s most popular fictional characters; he’s been moulded into multiple toys, met the late Queen, and starred in three hugely popular films.

It was inevitable that a version of his story would become a musical. What wasn’t inevitable is that Tom Fletcher (who provides music and lyrics) and Jessica Swale (who wrote the book) would fashion a show so emotionally and tonally perfect that the entire audience is enraptured from the moment the bear steps on stage – and keeps cooing and oohing, laughing and sobbing, until the very end.

So much thought and care have gone into everything concerned with this show, superbly and energetically directed by Luke Sheppard. It wants you to love it, and it is ultimately impossible to resist.

It begins with the bear. Much has been written about the way Paddington is played by two actors: Arti Shah, who inhabits the bear suit, and James Hameed, who provides the voice and the “remote puppeteering” of his face.

But all this doesn’t prepare you for just how magically that works. This Paddington, designed by Tahra Zafar, looks more like the Peggy Fortnum drawings in Bond’s original stories, slimmer and shaggier than in the films or as a toy. But he is also utterly real, his little grey eyebrows rising in surprise, his jaw dropping open when he is shocked, his nose wrinkling in search of marmalade.

But the wonder of all this is bolstered by a production where every detail counts.  The story is familiar from the book – a bear who has travelled by sea from Peru in search of a better life, is found by the Brown family at Paddington station, christened, given a home, causes mayhem, and spreads love.

Other strands lean heavily into the movie: the way Paddington glues the Brown family together (which owes a lot to Mary Poppins), and the 101 Dalmatians-inflected plot where a crazed taxidermist (played with sensual glee by Victoria Hamilton-Barritt) seeks to make her dead father proud by capturing and stuffing him.

On stage, it works wonderfully, providing propulsive action, high comedy, and just the right dash of poignancy. Tom Pye’s designs, back by Neil Austin’s thrilling lighting, Ash J Woodward’s video design, and Gabriella Slade’s richly textured costumes, create a world where everything is possible, moving seamlessly from the domestic chaos of 32 Windsor Gardens to street scenes that unfold in effortless perspective and finally to the Gothic strangeness of the Natural History Museum, its famous dinosaur skeleton peeping out of the backcloth.

Within this ever-changing landscape, Sheppard and choreographer Ellen Kane use Fletcher’s jaunty, attractive tunes to create high-energy routines. “The Rhythm of London” sets the entire cast wheeling through the streets, Marmalade dresses them in orange sparkles and recalls old Hollywood. Amy Ellen Richardson’s clear-voiced and empathetic Mrs Brown gets a song in praise of ordinary superheroes, while Adrian Der Gregorian’s anxious Mr Brown belts out a rock number about risk.

As for Bonnie Langford as the Brown’s lodger Mrs Bird, she shows her considerable razzle-dazzle talent in a routine which assures Tarinn Callender’s gentle henchman that “It’s Never Too Late”. The song references Langford’s off-stage career, as a star of Cats – just one of several references that give Paddington, for all its fun, an edge of sophistication, a consciousness of knowing what it is up to.

It is also clear about its theme. This is a show about welcoming foreigners, about asserting the values of kindness and tolerance that used to be Britain’s hallmarks. Swale’s script and Fletcher’s lyrics make that point over and over again. It’s uplifting to find such a strong message in such a popular entertainment.

Yet the comedy of the show never lets up. There are marvellous scenes for Amy Booth-Steel as the snobbish leader of the Geographer’s Guild, with an accent so cut-glass, it turns the word “members” into a snarl of contempt, and for Tom Edden as a surprisingly lovable Mr Curry, who is so confident of his place on stage that he can thank the orchestra (led by Laura Bangay, with orchestration by Matt Brind) for his cue.

A large ensemble performs with brio and delight, including the Brown children, a convincingly teenaged Judy (Delilah Bennett-Cardy) and swotty Jonathan (Stevie Hare, one of three boys playing the part), bringing each moment to colourful life, while letting the drama and charm breathe.

If you were being critical, you’d say there’s perhaps at least one song too many in the second half, but it doesn’t really matter. This is a show with a heart as big and generous as Paddington himself.