I didn’t think a puppet could move me, but when the onstage ensemble parted to reveal Paddington under the Savoy Theatre’s spotlights, it was game over. I teared up; he stared back, glassy-eyed, because his eyes are made of glass. Standing at just under four feet, his legs are the same size as his head. He’s built mainly of belly and soft bum. His breath comes in small, effortful gusts – a reminder that this creature is, somehow, alive. When he walks, it’s a gentle plod across the stage. When he dances (a soft little shimmy), it’s heart-breaking.
How did they do it?
Paddington’s original leap to the screen, more than a decade ago, was infamously touch-and-go. Early images drew comparisons to horror films; #creepypaddington had a moment. The musical’s producers, mindful of that fiasco, spent years focus-grouping on how to bring him to life in front of audiences.
The solution is split: Arti Shah animates the bear from within – she trained in a sauna, because being Paddington is a humid business – while James Hameed, offstage, provides the voice and the facial mechanics. The effect is seamless. When Paddington opens his mouth to sing, you feel an impulse to peek inside, to catch the gears at work. But the illusion wins. It’s just a pink tongue.
I’d heard a rumour that tickets came with a marmalade sandwich. I felt around my seat. No dice. No marmalade sandwich. But probably for the best, these kinds of hijinks could incur a hefty cleaning bill for the Savoy, which has undergone a multimillion-pound refurbishment for Paddington’s arrival. But it would be completely in keeping with his sticky disposition. He’s famously made much bigger messes.
Inspired by Jewish refugee children, Paddington first appeared in 1958 in Michael Bond’s A Bear Called Paddington. His image was sketched by Peggy Fortnum and eventually created by Shirley Clarkson (mother of Jeremy), whose stuffed toy became a national emissary – symbolically passed through the Channel Tunnel as a diplomatic gift, left outside Buckingham Palace by the thousand after the Queen’s death, and carried worldwide by Japan’s ambassador to the UK Hiroshi Suzuki, now known, inevitably, as “the Paddington Bear of ambassadors.”
But while taking on the mantle of British diplomacy and soft power, Paddington and his immigration status have become a subject of fascination for the left and right. The musical doesn’t dwell on this, but doesn’t sidestep it either. The show opens as Paddington arrives at the eponymous station after a violent boat crossing; he’s undocumented; he “might be different”, but he’s here to “spread love not hate”.
“Just one bear”, the pantomime villain remarks. “That’s how it starts, soon there won’t be room for you or me”.
The on-stage musical faithfully follows the plot of the first film, not the fantastically camp Hugh Grant sequel, but the original: Paddington appears in London for the first time with just a red hat, a suitcase, and a tag; Please look after this bear. His new habitat is loud and chaotic; his jungle has been replaced with one of bricks. Paddington must negotiate London’s peculiar wildlife: the Browns, who adopt him with a mixture of competence and panic; the commuters, who recoil at any disruption of their delicate ecosystem; the elites, who require ceremony for everything except kindness; and the taxidermist, who views him less as a guest and more as a future mantelpiece. It’s a lot for any newcomer.
Our stage bear is gentle, not as cheeky as the film star. The quips have softened into something like moral perplexity. Why can Mr Brown express affection only as exasperation? Why does the woman from the Natural History Museum want to stuff him because her father never said “I love you”? Why is everyone a jobsworth? Perhaps this is the true disorientation of arriving in England, and even a bear as tender as Paddington can see the emotional clutter we’ve learned to ignore. Onstage at the Savoy, that truth lands more quietly than any showstopper, but it lingers long after the bear has taken his bow.
[Further reading: The triumph of Paddington Inc]
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