Sea Witch

This was, in truth, a rather confusing show, and I fear this may become a rather confusing review. The musical is based on the novel by Sarah Henning, which I must confess I have not read. Having now sat through this adaptation, I regret to say I have little desire to remedy that omission.

The evening opens with a young Ariel pleading for legs. From there, we are launched into a flashback. Within that flashback, there are further flashbacks, like some sort of narrative Russian doll. In the interests of public service, I shall present the plot chronologically to spare you the mild migraine that many audience members appeared to be nursing.

As children, Anna and Evie are swimming when the sea turns treacherous. Prince Nik saves Evie but cannot save Anna.. or so we think. Anna is rescued by Mer-people and raised beneath the waves, rather in the manner of Elf, blissfully unaware of her true origins. Years later, when Prince Nik’s ship sinks, Anna (now known as Annemette) rescues him. By this point, Nik is king and no one recognises Annemette.

Annemette makes a pact with the Mer-king who saved her: find love within three days or die. Meanwhile, Evie discovers that her mother once saved her life through self-sacrifice. Naturally, Evie decides she too must sacrifice herself. Initially, this is for a stranger she met approximately 48 hours earlier, but she later redirects her noble intentions elsewhere. Oh, and somewhere along the line we learn that Evie and Annemette are witches. This revelation, though promising, has remarkably little impact on the actual plot.

As you can see, the show borrows liberally from a number of familiar sources; The Little Mermaid, Frozen, Elf, and quite possibly anything else involving spells or misunderstood young women. The musical numbers follow suit. Several songs feel uncannily reminiscent of others you may have heard before. One number, driven by heavy clicking, brought to mind “Get Down” from Six, I half expected a sober “Woof” to punctuate the choreography. At various points I detected lyrical or tonal echoes of Dear Evan Hansen (including a quote), The Greatest Showman and Wicked. Almost every song was a soaring anthem about defying odds, being different, or believing in oneself – the sort of number that accompanies an X Factor contestant’s emotional montage. That said, a 12-year-old in the front row, proudly sporting noise-cancelling headphones, clapped enthusiastically throughout one number..

There is an “eternal winter” moment in which hidden witch powers are finally revealed, then a song featuring the Zulu word “Mamela” a word many will associate with The Lion King. It is in these moments, when lyrics seem detached from narrative purpose, that one begins to wonder how the show reached the stage in its current form. I am not against AI as a creative tool – far from it – but there were passages here that felt algorithmically assembled rather than dramaturgically crafted. Another audience member audibly wondered whether this was a jukebox musical as nothing made sense.

Confusion persists elsewhere. King Nik is repeatedly told by his mother that he cannot ascend the throne without a queen. He is already king. There is also a subplot involving a cousin apparently competing for a crown; the staging suggested less a battle for monarchy and more a Sports Day prize.

Tonally, the show veers towards pantomime, complete with swooshing capes and lines such as, “You’re my best friend, in fact, you’re my only friend.” One wonders whether the piece began life as a knowingly camp romp before shifting direction, perhaps wary of comparison with Unfortunate: The Untold Story of Ursula the Sea Witch.

Ironically, for a show titled Sea Witch, there is remarkably little sea. One underwater flashback features charmingly literal choreography with plenty of swimming arms and nose-pinching dives. Bringing to mind Teen Beach Movie and Humuhumunukunukuapua’a. There is also surprisingly little magic. A spell book is ceremoniously placed downstage centre, though its pages stubbornly refuse to flutter open à la Wicked. To be fair, this was billed as an in-concert staging.

If this review sounds critical, it must be said that the cast were anything but. We were informed at the start that the ensemble had only five days to learn the material, an extraordinary feat, and they performed with commendable energy and commitment. Natalie Paris (Evie) and Mazz Murray (Queen Charlotte) used the power-ballad-heavy score to showcase their formidable vocals, and the audience clearly relished Michelle Visage as Tante Hansa.

Choreographer Dean Lee embraced a stylised, quirky aesthetic that lent the piece visual cohesion, even when the narrative faltered. Watching such an accomplished cast command the stage at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane, one could not help but admire the talent assembled, even if the material did not quite match it.

Looking at the programme notes for the co-creators, book and composer there seems to be a lot of filler about what draws them to the story and their general style, but very little substance about previous work or clear creative credentials. It left me with more questions than answers about how this piece found its way to the stage in its current form. I found myself thinking of The Producers…

In short, Sea Witch is an ambitious blend of fairytale tropes, pop-ballad empowerment and pantomime flourish. Whether it quite knows what it wants to be is another matter entirely. Sadly I would say, this show doesn’t have legs.

Photo Credit: Danny Kaan