By Nick Dent
Grimm
Cremorne Theatre, QPAC
Until October 6
★★★★
Once upon a time there was a plucky young Brisbane theatre company called Shake & Stir, known throughout the land for their talent at staging commercially successful shows.
One of their smartest tricks was to adapt famous but out-of-copyright properties such as Frankenstein and A Christmas Carol, thus maximising brand recognition while avoiding the expense of royalties. Their latest effort in that vein is a lusty and rib-tickling revue that mashes up German folktales from the collections of Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm.
Wolf clique: Brendan Maclean and Nelle Lee in Shake and Stir’s Grimm in Brisbane Festival 2024.Credit: Joel Devereux
It’s well known that the original stories are way more violent and ribald than the versions found on children’s bookshelves. Grimm leans into this. Nick Cave’s murder ballad Red Right Hand features prominently; toes, tongues and other bits of people get chopped off; and the language is… well, not the kind of stuff they say on Play School.
A lot of it is rude, and some of it’s in German (with surtitles) – which adds to the overall mood of Weimar decadence. Queensland Theatre associate artistic director Daniel Evans has helmed a voyage into the unconscious by way of Cabaret’s Kit Kat Club.
The script’s guiding idea seems to be that fairy tales are fluid beasts, constantly in flux through being retold, rather than set in stone. Thus Cinderella, or “shputtel” (played by Australian acting great Angie Milliken), is given a ballgown by a fairy godfather (Aljin Abella), who is also Rumpelstiltskin.
A wicked stepmother (Nelle Lee) demands a virgin’s heart from her husband (Abella), who is also the Beast of Beauty and the Beast fame.
Aljin Abella gives an energetic performance in multiple roles. Credit: Joel Devereux
A louche wolf (Brendan Maclean) tinkles the ivories of an old upright, menaces Little Red (Lee), and may also be that legendary serial killer, the Robber Bridegroom. You get the idea.
The four cast members operate like a well-oiled machine through dance numbers and quickfire character changes, and the script by Evans and Lee is peppered with witty couplets and asides.
The ingenious, apple-strewn set by Josh McIntosh hides trapdoors, lights and other surprises. The tech here is blessedly old-school – no video screens in sight. There’s even a bit of puppetry, with the appearance of an adorably lifelike faun.
There are thematic nods towards domestic violence, diversity, freedom of choice and busting stereotypes, but the greater purpose here is simply surprise and delight, with unbridled displays of greed, lust, envy and (in the case of the Sleeping Beauty) sloth. The fact that the wolf sings the old Eric Carmen clanger Hungry Eyes gives an indication as to how seriously things are to be taken.
Fairy tales reimagined are nothing new. A spate of Hollywood movies a few years ago yielded little but dreck, and Disney continues to remake its own ossified takes on Grimm, Andersen et al. But, by going back to the source material, Shake & Stir – energised as always by inventive stagecraft – have managed to spin straw into gold.