Molly Cheesley’s Alicia Johns, left, Eden Barrie’s Mary-Lou Atkinson, Robyn Sinclair’s Darrell Rivers, Bethany Wooding’s Sally Hope and Rebecca Collingwood’s Gwendoline Lacey in Emma Rice Company’s Malory Towers. Picture: Steve Tanner
ENID Blyton’s Malory Towers, the original post-war “Girl Power” story, was staged for the first time in a co-production by Emma Rice’s Wise Children company and York Theatre Royal in 2019, playing York in all-too-short stay that September.
Roll forward to 2026, when Rice now trades as the Emma Rice Company, for the school half-term visit to Leeds Playhouse of her revival of her “happy Lord Of The Flies”, as she calls her adaptation of the “naughty, nostalgic and perfect for now Malory Towers”, now touring in tandem with London’s Alexandra Palace Theatre, Coventry’s Belgrade Theatre, Manchester HOME and Liverpool Everyman & Playhouse. It is indeed perfect for half-term, judging by Thursday’s matinee, packed with children and their mums.
Writer-director Rice read Blyton stories, Famous Five and Secret Seven capers but not Malory Towers, in her contrasting, inner-city Nottingham comprehensive schooldays in the 1970s, but found herself drawn back to the Cornish cliff tops she knew so well in her groundbreaking Kneehigh theatre days.
This Cornwall is Blyton’s Cornwall of the Blighty 1950s: school days of midnight feasts, pillow fights and an outdoor swimming pool, when “lucky girls have the chance… to be returned back to the world sensible, sound and strong… women that the world can lean on”.
Stephanie Hockley’s Irene Dupont, at the piano, with violinist Emily Panes and Molly Cheesley’s Alicia Jones. Picture: Steve Tanner
To emphasise why the stories are “perfect for now”, Rice opens with a modern-day school setting, with doors not only to the headmaster’s office, but also to that symbol of changed times, the welfare officer’s office, beneath those imposing towers.
The children are displaying the same characteristics as they will once they morph into their Malory Towers selves, transformed as if in a dream once Eden Barrie, gawky and gauche in a fairy outfit, has been walloped on the head with a copy of Malory Towers.
Later this will be mirrored by the Malory Towers pupils enacting a fairy world scene from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, again with the girls’ own tropes influencing the choice of roles.
An electric charge of excitement spreads through the audience for an Emma Rice show like no other, and as ever you are smiling, beaming, from the effervescent, jollier-than-hockey sticks start when Benny Goodman’s Sing Sing Sing sets the ball rolling for a series of delightful, dazzling songs, some originals by Ian Ross (music) and Rice (lyrics), others takes on Edith Piaf’s Mon Menage A Moi, Sammy Fain’s I Can Dream Can’t I? and Pat Ballard’s Mr Sandman.
Malory Towers director Emma Rice
One by one, Rice lets the new Malory Towers intake introduce themselves as the “deliciously naughty”, corny joke-loving West Country second-year pupil Alicia Johns (Molly Cheesley) welcomes the girls and their suitcase onto the Paddington train bound for the Cornish coast.
We meet Barrie’s bag-of-nerves, constantly apologetic Scottish pupil Mary-Lou Atkinson; returnee Rebecca Collingwood’s even-beastlier-than-in-2019 Gwendoline Lacey; Bethany Wooding’s ever-so-proper, prim and pucker Sally Hope and Robyn Sinclair’s furnace-hot-tempered, fierce-hearted Darrell Rivers, this production’s stand-out.
LIPA-trained Stephanie Hockley’s French student Irene Dupont, so free of spirit and musical to the tips of her piano-playing fingers, has a lead singer’s sense of melody and is humorous too in her head-strong character’s exasperation. To her side is violinist Emily Panes, so key to the beautiful arrangements. Along for the ride too comes Zoe West’s horse-loving Wilhemina “Call me Bill” Robinson, whose late arrival adds an air of mystery.
All is orchestrated by director Rice at a cracking pace, her ingenuity, inventive flair and sense of mischief complemented by Lez Brotherston’s typically witty, playful set and costume designs. The beds are employed so imaginatively in Alistair David’s choreography, while Simon Baker’s sound and video design and Beth Carter and Stuart Mitchell’s dream sequence animation are filled with the visual and verbal humour synonymous with the snap, crackle and pop of Rice’s crisply delivered shows.
Zoe West’s Bill Robinson in Malory Towers. Picture: Steve Tanner
From the rail route graphics from London to Cornwall to the furiously fast stride pattern of Bill’s animated heroic horse; from a swimming pool scene with Busby Berkeley swimsuit panache and puppet divers to a “Cliffhanger” punchline to end the first act; from a chalkboard to the shadow-puppet figure of headmistress Miss Grayling (voiced by Dame Sheila Hancock, no less), Malory Towers keeps delighting and amusing with its imagery.
Amid Blyton’s high jinks, high drama and high spirits, the performances from Rice’s typically diverse cast are ripe with personality and individuality beneath the uniformity of the school dress code.
Rice adds her own touches to the script, be it a Jackson Pollock drip-painting reference or, more gravely, the damaging, life-altering effect of the war on a father, to the cost of his troubled daughter. Part Blyton, wholly Rice, this Malory Towers is fun, feminist, joyful, old-fashioned yet fresh, championing compassion, inclusivity and freedom of expression with flair, fire and faith in the transformative power of education and theatre alike.
Emma Rice Company in End Blyton’s Malory Towers, Leeds Playhouse, tonight, 7.30pm; tomorrow, 2pm and 7.30pm. Box office: leedsplayhouse.org.uk.
Cut up: Rebecca Collingwood’s spiteful Gwendoline Lacey, craving a switch to a Swiss finishing school in Malory Towers. Picture: Steve Tanner