Into The Woods - Noël Coward Theatre ★★★★

Into The Woods is certainly a divisive piece of theatre, pitting die-hard musical lovers against each other for decades. Since its debut in 1986, the piece has been scrutinised for its rejection of family-friendly storytelling. Multiple fairy tales are played with adult themes that deconstruct the modern notion of ‘happily ever after’ that has strayed so far from the Grimms’ original gothic intention. However, after receiving 11 nominations for the Laurence Olivier Award and winning two, it’s safe to say there is a significant public demand for Into The Woods to return to the West End after 35 years. Not only repeating history but making it, Into The Woods is the first musical to ever transfer from the Bridge Theatre to the commercial West End. Now, the Noël Coward Theatre is holding a strictly limited run from 22nd September 2026 to 9th January 2027.

The show is a musical of two halves, the first being more of a witty, playful insight into the fantasy world where a Baker and his wife have been cursed with childlessness by their not-so-neighbourly Witch (Kate Fleetwood reprising her role). As a result, the couple must venture into the woods to retrieve four items requested by her. On their way, they interact with Little Red Riding Hood, Jack (Jack and the Beanstalk), Rapunzel and Cinderella, as each character holds a different ingredient for the curse-lifting potion. The first act ends with an intentionally corny toe-tapper called ‘Ever After’ where each story is complete as we know it. Cinderella is married, Rapunzel finds a Prince, the Bakers are with child, and Jack and his mother are rich.

However, when Act Two begins, minor chords stab underneath the peppy lyrics and high-kicks of ‘So Happy’. This is the first of many Act Two songs that use the same upbeat musical motifs from Act One, while the context of the music is subverted. It foreshadows the grief that is to come, without losing the melodic identity of the musical. Giants have waged war on the forest, and the characters must band together to navigate the consequences of getting what they want.

Whisked away into a mythical woodland, the most striking assets to Into The Woods are Tom Scutt’s set and Aideen Malone’s lighting. In a two-hour, 45-minute run, the ensemble climbs through and plays with an overgrown forest that appears to go on for miles. In the background, a stunning cluster of lights shines through trees in beams, the location of ‘the sun’ changing depending on which character takes the stage, aiding the illusion that these woods run deep.

Adding to the production’s mysticism, director Jordan Fein’s dramatic use of space allows the characters to move through their magical world with such a sense of righteousness and purpose that the audience, much like the mortal narrator (Michael S. Siegel), is almost imposing on their fantastical story. Into The Woods is brilliant for its worldbuilding; therefore, the delivery of moral questions is impactful – so much that some songs like ‘I Know Things Now’ can relate directly to anybody in the crowd. It’s impressively absurd when Little Red Riding Hood and Cinderella are making you question your beliefs on parenthood and relationships – Cinderella tells Little Red: ‘nice does not always mean good’, alluding to male love interests. But this is what folklore does. It serves you a morality lesson in an accessible, metaphorical, storytelling format. Arguably, Into The Woods is a grand rehashing of what oral tradition has already offered humans for centuries.

A standout performer is Gracie McGonigal as Little Red Riding Hood. The story has been told for centuries as a warning for pre-teen girls to ‘never stray from the path’ no matter how charming the ‘wolves’ in the forest may seem. For a long time, the fable has centred on a helpless young girl who comes to a bitter end, until Carol Ann Duffy’s folklore-inspired feminist poetry collection ‘The World’s Wife’ (published 13 years after the musical’s debut) paved the way for Little Red to gain some authority over herself. This empowerment and self-assurance is exactly what McGonigal’s performance is giving. She plays this usually hopeless character with bravado and comedy, which is both relieving and refreshing.

Like in many musicals, if you don’t listen to the score first, it can be hard to catch every line of the plot. Sometimes, in this production, the overlapping speech in company songs seems to be less of a harmonious chorus and more individual voices fighting to be heard. At times when multiple voices are speak-singing, following the story can seem as laborious as performing it. And this musical is not for everyone! It stays true to the dark, gory tales that the Brothers Grimm initially went for, so the shock factor brings equal applause and avoidance. One just wonders if Sondheim’s recurring melodies and motifs are a blessing or a curse, as when you get to the end of this two hours and 45 minutes, the songs can feel as retold as the fairy tales themselves.