The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Old Fire Station Theatre, Tuesday 8th-Saturday 12th May 2001

Antoine de Saint-Exupery once described progress as the gradual discovery that your questions have no meaning. The Little Prince, written by Saint-Exupery in 1943 just a year before he died, is best appreciated in this way - in the spirit of a transient story beautifully told. The challenge of staging Antony Clark's adaptation is to allow the audience to inhabit the magical worlds Saint-Exupery creates - worlds in which geese fall from the sky to interrupt businessmen counting stars on an abacus. Alex Clifton's production succeeds in this, taking us out of ourselves for a few short hours.

The traverse stage is floored in cratered purple. The end walls are littered with paraphernalia like a child's playroom: toy aeroplanes, hula hoops, an abacus, a whole dressing up box of clothes. Four actors sit clustered in the centre - the Prince sits cross-legged alone. Even before the play begins the space is one of opportunity; one that allows us to use our imaginations. The adaptation is very faithful to the original text, and the cast found it difficult at first to paint the scenes as vividly in actions as Saint-Exupery does in words. Wonderful ideas such as a watering can that pours glitter sit uneasily within a narrative that relies very heavily on reciting the prose of the original - the actors didn't seem to believe completely in the world they created. It was only just before the interval, when the Prince's flight with the birds was recreated with hand puppets, that we got a glimpse of what was to come. It was the first of many moments in which the performed story transcended the written word.

The second half began an Alice-in-Wonderland journey as the Prince travelled between stars inhabited by a variety of characters. As the cast relaxed they invested more energy in their story and allowed the audience to become complicit in it. As they put us at ease with effortless, artless playing, their excellent ensemble work became evident. Jessie Burton drew in the audience with engaging, honest eyes; Tom Green was ingenuous, endearing; Leander Deeny cheeky and familiar and addressing the audience like a stand-up comedian; Gwyneth Glyn-Evans was more playful and seductive. Each member of this group demonstrated considerable versatility as they played the characters that the Prince encounters. As the Prince, Danni Mason succeeded in tempering youthful exuberance and fascination with the world with the wisdom that makes the character so compelling. She was at once vulnerable and inquisitive.

Perhaps the greatest achievement of the entire cast was in maintaining their modesty when given such beautiful lines ("It is only with the heart that one can see. What is essential is invisible to the eye"). Delivered too knowingly, the play could easily descend into sickly-sweet rhetoric. It is tribute to the actors' maturity, and to Clifton's light touch as director, that this never happens and the story is allowed to shine. To search for meaning in The Little Prince is, I think, to miss the simple pleasure of immersing yourself in this beautiful fantasy. It is probably something that grown-ups would do. So don't think too hard - just drift. This is magical storytelling for children from 5 to 105.

Harry Smith, 8 / 5 / 01