Theatre Review: The Ocean at the End of the Lane feeds the imagination

The Ocean at the End of the Lane
Nöel Coward Theatre, London, until November 25

Katy Rudd’s production of The Ocean at the End of the Lane is a reminder that theatre is fundamentally a visual medium. Its weird shapeshifting creatures make for quite a spectacle and Fly Davis’s woodland set lures the punters into a world where fantasy and reality become inexorably blurred. Finty Williams as the grizzled old country dweller Mrs Hempstock wonders out loud at one point if there is such a big difference between our memories and our imagination. An interesting thought – maybe it’s true we make our memories what we want them to be.

It’s as well not to pick away too much at the plot that Joel Horwood has fashioned out of a novel by Neil Gaiman, but it has certainly been done with great flair. The action switches between a magical woodland, where Mrs Hempstock holds court, and a suburban household where Trevor Fox plays a bereaved father trying to bring up his son, played by Keir Ogilvy, and daughter (Laurie Ogden).

I don’t want to give away too much about the monsters – inspired more than a little perhaps by the late Sir Antony Sher’s spidery Richard III – but top marks for the puppetry director Finn Caldwell for bringing them so frighteningly to life.

The weird creatures of the forest and suburbia collide in the form of Charlie Brooks, who appears in the form of an improbably glamorous home help but it soon becomes clear she is not what she appears to be.

Brooks maybe steals the show – the scene in which she materialises and dematerialises is unforgettable – but Williams, playing a woman considerably older than herself, is also on great form in this very strong ensemble.

This show, somewhat belatedly transferring from the National Theatre, would make a great Christmas treat for the children, but its run unfortunately stops shy of December.