London Coliseum, London.
13 March 2025.
‘What is essential is invisible to the eye.’ A beautiful quote from The Little Prince written by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.
Having seen a trailer and the luxurious programme packed with beautiful onstage photography, I was expecting much from this production as the curtain rose to reveal first the narrator, and then higher, the aviator suspended above the stage, falling upside down – clouds racing by on the backdrop.
This adaptation of the children’s book The Little Prince is choreographed and directed by Anne Tournié. Today’s evening audience is compiled of plenty of families, but equally adults of various ages, too. The entire production is childlike, but not childish. It speaks in different relatable ways, to the child within, and both children and adults in the audience are captivated.
The narrator Chris Mouton speaks in a melodic voice, observing the action onstage, sometimes displaying emotional reaction to it, and sometimes even momentarily involved in it. Narration is in French, with English subtitles displayed on a small screen at the top of the front curtain. Helpful to have subtitles, but owing to the height of the stage, both subtitles and performers cannot both be in vision at the same time, so a decision must be made which to look at!
The narrator is the only speaking character throughout, yet the onstage composition is such that it makes complete sense and is hardly noticeable that we do not hear the character’s voices. We certainly hear their personalities through their movement and interaction with one another, and some of them, with the audience.
The Little Prince enters walking on a large ball. He meets the aviator and asks him to draw a sheep for him. There is an abstract contemporary dance performed by several sheep, all slightly different in their appearance, supported by the ‘drawing’ of sheep on the backdrop, too. Creative video-mapping technology used throughout certainly ‘immerses the audience into The Little Prince’s cosmic and fantastic world.’
Intricate attention has been paid to how The Little Prince – played by Dylan Barone – moves and interacts with his surroundings. Even how he tilts his head right back to look up at the descending snake, when arriving on planet Earth makes his character appealingly childlike in his free and abandoned way of moving.
There are hints of acrobatic ability among the cast as the sheep begin to dance. The prince and the aviator also dance a playful duet, unsure of one another initially; we can see the friendship begin to blossom before our eyes. And a freedom and playful nature in the way all the performers expressively use the stage space, embodying some childlike gestures at times.
A particularly touching moment is the new relationship between The Little Prince and his Rose played by contemporary dancer Marie Menuge. They connect through their inquisitiveness of one another. And when the migration of birds begins and The Little Prince too announces his departure, the Rose runs to him as the ropes lower, and they rise into the air coiled round one another.
The use of aerial skills is effortless and impressive, very cleverly interwoven and feels entirely plausible as part of the storyline. The recorded soundtrack is melodious, spirited and connective to onstage action.
The Little Prince takes off and travels via the straps from planet to planet. He meets a King, a vain man, a drunkard, a fox. The Lamplighter is particularly effective, dancing from the swinging suspended streetlamp.
‘Your days here are one minute long! You and I have already been talking to each other for a month.’
Refreshingly, the audience are absorbed into a world where anything is possible. An energetic light dance – dancing lights on the backdrop and dancers onstage holding a ball of light in their hand experiment moving with it, it’s different weight and the visual shapes they can make together.
‘The Prince will land on planet Earth in 20 minutes.’
After the interval, it is on planet Earth that The Little Prince meets with the snake and her equally dynamic and soft movements, her coiled rope, which she laces around The Little Prince’s ankles, and the untamed fox, who springs onto his hand.
‘Earth is very big. It’s lonely even with people.’ This perceptive comment from the narrator reaches different depths with different audience members.
A heart-warming game of copycat or follow my leader unfolds between the animated figure of The Little Prince on the backdrop, and three dancers in three rectangles of light on the stage. An interesting play on making friends, the prince performs a movement which is echoed by each of the dancers in turn, in their own way.
The Ballet of the Roses uses creative costume design by Peggy Housset, during which their skirts can be lifted up overhead, to close their flower-bud. A striking dance.
When the prince’s own planet drifts into view on the backdrop, his own single rose growing bright from the planet’s surface, it is clear that it’s time.
The aviator on his eighth day in the desert and last drop of water carries The Little Prince, weary and faint. Soon, they are laughing and splashing in the thunder and lightning and rain that follows. A small hoop lowers, and in an odd little ending, the prince hooks his arms through it and rises.
Unexpectedly, the narrator then steps forward and begins to sing: ‘The little sun in the night of my life.’ It is an emotive and rich song, a unique way to bring the production to conclusion as the dancers all return to the stage to bow, and the audience are showered with red tissue paper hearts.
To finish as we started: ‘What is essential is invisible to the eye.’
And perhaps this production encouraged freedom, in thought and movement in their audience’s minds as they left the theatre.
By Louise Ryrie of Dance Informa.
