Little Women at Darlington Hippodrome Review

Reviews

2 Oct

Written by Stacy for Theatre & Tonic

Disclaimer: Gifted tickets in exchange for an honest review

The Darlington Hippodrome’s auditorium was filled with a familiar mix of anticipation and nostalgia tonight in anticipation of Anne-Marie Casey's adaptation of Little Women. This show has been done many times, yet this production is promising something fresh.

From the moment the real action burst into momentum, I was struck by how alive Jo is in Natalie Dunne’s hands. Jo’s fire, her longing, her defiance are all carried with an energy that’s both reckless and heartbreaking. When Jo rails against expectations, charges through scenes with theatrical gusto, I believed in every bruised hope and triumph. But what impressed me most was her stillness in the quieter moments...Dunne lets the audience into Jo’s internal life with a glance, a small hesitation, and the weight of her words pulls us further into the action.

Belinda Lang as Aunt March is a force of nature. She strides onstage wearing a mixture of regality, crabbiness, and generational bitterness, and Lang never plays her as simply the villain. There are moments of sharp wit, but she also reveals a certain vulnerability, especially when confronted with the strength and ambition of the younger women in the family. Her Aunt March is not just laugh-lines and scoldings; she appears fearful of being useless in a world that prizes aesthetic youth and inheritance.

Juliet Aubrey’s Marmee is the quiet emotion weaving through the piece. She presides over the March household with warmth and moral clarity, but those scars of life can be seen simmering on the peripheral. You sense that she carries burdens that come with being a mother, of loneliness, of wanting the best for all her daughters, yet knowing she can’t shield them from life's suffering. Aubrey gives those moments weight without taking the show into melodrama. It becomes clear that when Marmee speaks, people listen.

The sisters themselves weave texture into the piece. Meg (Jade Oswald) seems quietly trapped as she loathes poverty and longs for comfort, wishing life would align with these wishes. Beth (Megan Richards) is the innocent heart that almost whispers...gentle, selfless and all the more affecting for her silences. Amy (Jewelle Hutchinson) is a study in coming of age - petulant and spoiled at first, but with ambition for her life's journey. And Laurie (Perry Williams) flits between charming warmth and wounded pride in a way that reveals just how much he is shaped by unrequited feelings and societal expectations.

Visually, the show is a delight. Ruari Murchison’s design builds a world that is recognisably period - the dresses, the furniture, the frayed curtains, the faded walls - but it’s not rigid. There’s imagination and life to the set....an almost outdoor, indoor whimsical feel to the set allows external scenes to fit seamlessly through the March's living room....it was truly unique. And Mike Robertson’s lighting is a subtle kind of magic, making winters feel cold, windows glow and dusk linger that little bit longer. Scene changes are handled with care, often using minimal props but maximizing suggestion and igniting imagination.

The pacing is generally strong. Loveday Ingram’s direction gives the sisters space to bicker, to dream, and to mourn. The first act felt on the longer side with moments where energy dips and some transitions slow, but once the conflict builds, once Jo’s voice raises its questions about freedom, duty, and ambition...that energy sparks back into place. There are emotional punches such as Beth’s illness, Jo’s compromise, Amy’s regret, and Laurie’s heartbreak. Those moments stay with you even after the final bow.

If I have a small criticism, it’s that in trying to cover the sweep of the novel (childhood, youth, adulthood, love, loss), some scenes feel compressed. A few turns feel hurried...decisions that in the book gradually twist feel almost abrupt on stage. Also, occasional lapses in accent or projection (in a large space like the Hippodrome) threaten to pull me out of the story. But they are small moments overall.

This adaptation is a tender tapestry of love, loss, and sisterhood ensuring Little Women glows with a timeless beauty. It's a rich and warm production that proves the March sisters' story is still inspiring today as it ever was.