Matthew
Whittet’s previous works have included School
Dance and Fugitive
(two thirds of the Windmill Trilogy). In each case, Whittet takes a well-known
story and tweaks and incorporates it into a larger work which interrogates the
original as well as making it resonate for a contemporary audience. While School Dance was an extended homage to
Eighties high-school dramas, Fugitive
was a critique of the Robin Hood legend (complete with Stormtroopers), and both
plays were engaging and clever pieces of theatre, both from a script
perspective as well as being accomplished and sometimes remarkable examples of
stagecraft. Whittet’s imagination is no doubt a very fertile place, capable of
grand statements as well as more intimate, smaller-scale pieces such as Old
Man – a tender portrait of fathers, sons, relationships and loss –
which played at Belvoir’s Downstairs theatre in 2012.
Belvoir’s Cinderella, then,
is very much in the same mould as the Windmill trilogy, despite not being a
part of it. It is, however, a peculiar play. Created from an original concept
by Anthea
Williams (Belvoir’s Literary Manager, who also directs this production), it
feels as though it is only tangentially related to the story of Cinderella, and
as though it is still halfway through its dramaturgical fruition. As a play, Cinderella seeks to use the time-worn
fairytale as the basis for a piece which examines psychological strength,
determination, grief, and the transcendent power of transformation.
Unfortunately for Whittet and Williams, this ‘fairytale for adults’ doesn’t
really delve into the deep wellspring of its myriad sources as much as it
could, nor does it really progress dynamically from the first two scenes where
we meet Ashley, Ash and (briefly) Richard, and the whole crazy train of the
night’s events are set in motion. Nor is it terribly ‘adult’ at all.
