THE story of Robin Hood, outlawed in Sherwood Forest and famous for robbing the rich to give to the poor, is the most obvious of all the traditional stories to politicise – it’s all there in the massive body of stories that first emerged in the poem Piers Plowman, written in around 1370.

You might have been introduced to Robin as a cartoon fox, as did Daniel Bye, writer of this Christmas’s show at Bath’s Egg. It might have been as Richard Greene, who rode through the glen with his band of men from 1955 to 1959 on little grainy television screens … or maybe as Kevin Costner on film in 1991 (when Alan Rickman won the popular vote as the arch baddie).

It’s a story of heroism, of putting other people before your own interests and of facing injustice head on, and its power shows no sign of diminishing in a lastingly corrupt world of self-serving entitlement.

And it is also a perennially great Christmas show, as the six talented and versatile actors at the Egg prove. The idea of this new version is that three teenagers, all estranged from their families, have taken to the woods where they are learning about the seasons, the wildlife, the foliage and most of all the strength of the ancient trees, joined underground in a mutual support system.

Starving hungry, John, Marian and Much kill one of the royal stags, but the dastardly Sheriff of Nottingham finds them, and they have to rely on the solitary Robin to help them out. The downtrodden populace is waiting for the king to return and make their lives better, but when he arrives he is just as bad – sometimes even worse – than the sheriff. Of course that is not quite how history – and/or the many legends that have grown up around Robin and his merrie men – tells the story.

Directed by Jennifer Jackson and performed on a simple and versatile set designed by April Dalton, with a brilliantly inventive and stunningly performed musical score by Verity Standen, this Robin Hood bursts onto the stage with breathtaking impact, and for the first three quarters of its two-hour running time the excitement, invention and delight is palpable.

Sam Liu is the awkward, anti-social Robin, with Tom Mackean as a belligerent John, Harriett O’Grady as the brave Marion and Ellian Showering as a Much with a stunning singing voice and lots of real pathos. The four of them turn out songs with skill and musicality that would not be out of place in a folk concert, shifting seamlessly to rap, and even a nod to that Richard Greene tune of olden times. As their relationship develops, and the story gathers pace, Dan Wheeler’s sheriff comes into his own, turning to traditional audience participation (much to the delight of the packed school audience).

The role of the king is shared by two members of Theatre Royal Bath’s Theatre School. We saw Tomos Burt as the arrogant, authoritarian King Richard, enjoying all the boot kissing and suppression of the revolting peasantry.

I loved this show, right up to the time I realised that the message seems to be that all father figures (biological, regal and civic) are inherently bad and unreliable, that children are better off on their own, and that all instructions should be disobeyed or at least ignored. It’s not the message of the original stories, it doesn’t improve the theatrical experience and it doesn’t leave you with the hope that former Children’s Laureate Michael Morpurgo insists is vital in creating stories for young audiences. Maybe it’s not too late for a little tweaking??

GP-W

Photographs by Craig Fuller