Into the Woods is arguably Stephen Sondheim’s masterpiece, but its brilliance is more fragile than some of his sturdier works, which can succeed on the strength of a few strong voices alone.
This musical demands far more. To be done well, it requires an ensemble of top-tier performers, including in supposedly minor roles, thanks to the score’s notorious technical difficulty.
At the same time, James Lapine’s book must be handled with a blend of irony and sincerity so precise that a misstep risks tipping the show into either cloying earnestness or gratuitous darkness.
Jordan Fein’s new production at the Bridge Theatre doesn’t merely meet those demands, it exceeds them, transforming a very good musical into something genuinely transporting.
With seamless, cinematic staging, Tom Scutt’s dreamy pop-up storybook set, and panto-inspired costumes and props that function as comic (and occasionally dramatic) performers in their own right, this Into the Woods feels simultaneously reverent and full of new life.
Most impressively, Fein forges a perfect marriage between two traditions: Sondheim’s distinctly American theatrical intelligence and the anarchic British joy of pantomime.
This Christmas, you can skip the tired fairy cow and compulsory audience-participation groans and instead bring the family to experience a fairytale with wit, danger, puppets, and hats, that’s funny enough to earn its laughs honestly.
There isn’t a weak link in the cast, a difficult thing to accomplish in a musical with no clear lead role.
Jamie Parker’s Baker and Katie Brayben’s Baker’s Wife bring uncommon chemistry and emotional specificity to roles that can sometimes feel like narrative glue. Their relationship feels lived-in and tender, rather than purely functional.
The story opens with the childless couple learning from their next-door witch that they must retrieve Cinderella’s slipper, Rapunzel’s golden hair, Little Red Riding Hood’s cloak and a cow as white as milk in order to lift a generational curse.
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Along the way, they collide with Jack, his beanstalk, and his catastrophic decision-making.
Jo Foster plays Jack with guileless charm and beautifully judged androgyny, making his innocence genuinely winning (almost enough to forgive him for accidentally bringing a giant upon the kingdom).
Gracie McGonigal’s Little Red Riding Hood, meanwhile, is all grit beneath a sweet exterior. Her innuendo-laced encounter with the Wolf and her blisteringly funny I Know Things Now captures the horror and tragedy of growing up too fast – a difficult feat for a role that too often uses comedy as a crutch.
Technically, the production is a marvel. Beanstalks erupt from the stage with the kind of theatrical flourish that is pure storybook magic.
The princes — musical theatre’s greatest low-effort, high-impact roles — are dispatched with glee by Rhys Whitfield and Oliver Savile, whose performances of Agony and its reprise combine codpieces, earnest narcissism, and pin-sharp comic timing.
Vocally, Chumisa Dornford-May’s Cinderella is a standout, her crystalline soprano so pure you fully believe it might make birds volunteer for domestic labour.
Bella Brown’s Rapunzel is hauntingly fragile, her damaged interior life rendered with such care that she quietly prepares the audience for the show’s emotional apex.
That apex arrives, of course, with the Witch. Kate Fleetwood’s performance is a masterclass, and she is the standout in a cast of standouts.
Fein wisely lets the production orbit emotionally around Last Midnight, and Fleetwood delivers it with staggering impact that will astound even theatre goers who have seen countless renditions of the famous song.
The moment sent the opening-night crowd close to hysteria and created the kind of musical theatre moment that jolts even the most jaded theatregoer into remembering why this art form matters and converts even the most disinterested plus one into a fanatic.
As the first major Sondheim revival on a London stage since his death, Bridge Theatre’s Into the Woods is more than a tribute to the father of musical theatre, though it is a fitting one.
It is a reminder of what Sondheim – and all our great artists – have taught us about storytelling, complexity, and empathy. Over Christmas 2025, when the world feels too dark for shallow distraction, this is the fairytale to see: One with teeth, heart, and intelligence, and a resonant reminder that No One Is Alone, even when you’re lost deep in the woods.
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