Review: Treasure Island, Newcastle Theatre Royal

Apr 30 2008 by David Whetstone, The Journal

OOOH, aarrhh … and aaarhhh again for good measure.

To those who can’t stand namby pamby modern tales for kids, here’s a long, cold swig of the intoxicating stuff our great grandparents imbibed at bedtime.

Blimey, they must have had some nightmares. Or, more likely, they were made of sterner stuff.

Robert Louis Stevenson started to pen his tale of young Jim Hawkins, Long John Silver and the rest of the cut-throat crew during a rain-soaked summer holiday in Braemar, thereby keeping 12-year-old stepson Lloyd Osbourne entertained.

The tale was subsequently sold for a princely £100 – veritable treasure for the writer in 1883.

This production was launched by Birmingham Stage Company, seasoned producers of drama for kids, with a cutlass-sharp script from Scotsman Stuart Paterson who used to do the Christmas shows for Northern Stage.

True, much of that script is delivered at high volume from deep in the throat by men with beards and a bronchial problem – but fortunately actions speak louder even than words.

There’s plenty of action here. Mutinies, murders and skirmishes with musket and cutlass accompany young Jim, played by John Cockerill, on the voyage to find buried treasure.

“Jim lad” earns his spurs by killing wicked Israel Hands (played by an actor called Brendan Foster) who just ain’t quick enough.

It’s all acted out on a creaking vessel of a stage where splinters must be an occupational hazard for the actors.

I wondered what the little girls in pink two rows in front thought of it but no-one chickened out and headed for the exit.

Curiously, it ends with a bit of a whimper. Nevertheless, hairy chested family shows are hard to find these days and this is about as hairy chested as they come. Ooh, aaarhh.