Beauty and the Beast at Citizens Theatre, Glasgow Review
Israela Efomi in Beauty and the Beast. Photo by Tommy Ga-Ken Wan
Written by David for Theatre & Tonic
Disclaimer: Gifted tickets in exchange for an honest review
Following its reopening in August after a seven-year refurbishment, Glasgow’s beloved Citizens Theatre continues its 2025 season with the famous Citz Christmas Show — this time it’s Lewis Featherington’s bold take on the fairytale classic, Beauty and the Beast, co-directed by Dominic Hill and Joanna Bowman.
The lengthy gap in between Citz Christmas Shows might have deluded Glasgow audience members into thinking that the Citz was to put on a classic, saccharine adaptation with a bookish Beauty roaming a French provincial village. Those who trundled into the auditorium wearing Disney rose-tinted glasses couldn't have expected a bigger surprise when, pre-curtain, members of the cast came onto the stage, armed with fiddles and jingle bells, demanding renditions of cherished carols with some good old guffawing. Indeed, it was the apt introduction to a rollicking festive farce with a Citz twist.
Featherington’s diversion from the traditional story is apparent from the beginning when the audience meets the quasi-narrator Mr Mittens (Michael Guest) — the family cat to Baron Aaron (Tyler Collins) and his two daughters: the graceful Beauty (Israela Efomi) and the inventive curmudgeon Bright (Holly Howden Gilchrist). The Baron’s mismanagement of the family finances leads them to take up residence in a shack in the dark woodlands near the Beast’s castle, who demands one of the Baron’s daughters when their father steals a rose from the Beast’s garden.
Tyler Collins, Holly Howden Gilchrist and Israela Efomi in Beauty and the Beast. Photo by Tommy Ga-Ken Wan
Israela Efomi and Michael Guest in Beauty and the Beast. Photo by Tommy Ga-Ken Wan
Rachael Canning’s Beast is the greatest shock to the audience — he is a loveable, colourful explosion of blue tulle with sticky-ooty ears and a tail. Played by Nicholas Marshall, he is a softer character than the audience might've expected, who desperately wants Beauty to break fairy Nightmare’s (Elicia Daly) curse upon him via, of course, love. The choice to have a visually friendlier Beast is a subtle celebration of being different, but it’s a message which the show rarely explores again.
Visually, it is stupendous. Canning’s vivid set, characterised by wooden panels and sharp, crooked silhouettes, draws out the eeriness of the story, which is often subdued by humour. Her costuming equally deserves praise — boasting Georgian ruffles and floral prints — it intertwines a sugary, fairytale joy.
Featherington’s writing is certainly commendable — he manages to create a fresh kaleidoscope of drama, mischief, and comedy that’s in line with the Citz's legacy of innovation. The comedic (and romantic) interactions between Mr Mittens and the Beast’s dog, Captain Biscuits (Martin Donaghy) offer a light-hearted anchor to the piece, and hilarity arises from the audience when the plot becomes all the more barmy — Santa makes an appearance in the show’s finale.
It's a plot which functions rather episodically and consequently leaves a jolting effect that, while aiding the comedic elements to a certain degree, ultimately lacks a compass amidst disco ball interludes and endless moving doors and staircases. I can’t help but feel that Featherington’s retelling of the story is comparable to a deconstructed dessert you’d find at a posh restaurant — not without merit, but perhaps better the way Grandma made it.
Whilst slightly lost in its own glaikit fairytale, this idiosyncratic Beauty and the Beast gives the people of Glasgow what they’ve been craving seven years for — a riotous festive romp with a sprinkling of snow in every corner.
Plays until 31 December 2025
★ ★ ★
