In the two decades plus since its release, Tina Fey’s breakout teen comedy has garnished us all with a healthy supply of now staples memes and cultural fodder.

We know that it’s pink on Wednesdays. Always ask the date on October 3rd.

And for heaven’s sake, Gretchen, stop trying to make ‘fetch’ happen.

Given its lasting power, and once its spiritual predecessor (and, whisper it – superior) Heathers got the musical treatment, it was perhaps inevitable that Mean Girls would receive its time in the stagey sun.

With Fey returning for book duties, alongside hubby (and long-time 30 Rock collaborator) Jeff Richmond taking on the tunes, with a splash of Olivier-winning flair from lyricist Nell Benjamin, the most pressing question of all is; does Mean Girls as a musical smash the limits, or elicit little more than a ‘Boo, you whore’?

Following a fairly short-lived run in the West End, Casey Nicholaw’s spirited, bubblegum pop production is currently touring, arriving at the Wolverhampton Grand this week.

And it has to be said from the outset, as the UK swelters under a record-breaking heatwave, kudos to the phenomenally talented and spritely ensemble for the tireless energy and hutzpah with which they performed the show’s demanding, hyper-kinetic choreography throughout. Beads of sweat flung out across the stage, and ‘Damian’, Max Gill, even gave a cheeky characterful nod to the oppressive hit during the curtain call, but no ‘burn book’ needed – these consummate professionals put on one hell of a show.

Stamina and professional admiration aside, there’s a fun time to be had with Mean Girls on stage. Sure, much like its filmic forebear, it’s fairly tame when compared with the nihilism and black comedy of, say, Heathers, and it wears its teen-friendly vibes proudly on its fuchsia sleeves. Homeschooled, socially-awkward Cady (Emily Lane) arrives from Kenya into the scariest habitat this side of the Serengeti – the American High School.

“…fairly atypical teen movie fare, but it’s punctured by Fey’s witty and characterful writing and barbed dialogue.”

In attempting to find her footing and crowd, she befriends two fellow outcasts, Damian (Max Gill) and Janis (Georgie Buckland) whilst also catching the eye of the trio of fearsome ‘Plastics’ – neurotic Gretchen (Kiara Dario), delightfully ditzy Karen (Sophie Pourret) and ultimate ‘It’ girl and alpha female (there’s literally a track about her called ‘Apex Predator’), Regina George (Vivian Panka).

The ‘cautionary tale’ that follows – intermittently narrated by Damian and Janis – is fairly atypical teen movie fare, but it’s punctured by Fey’s witty and characterful writing and barbed dialogue. As Cady ventures into the Plastics’ sphere of influence to sabotage them from within, she finds the allure of their power, position and privilege irresistible to resist.

And, naturally, she develops a thing for class heartthrob – and Regina’s ex – Aaron (Ben Oatley).

Anyone familiar with the film will be pleased to know all the fan favourite lines and quips are present and accounted for. Benjamin and Richmond do a solid job repurposing it as a musical, with some fun pop tracks peppered throughout. It doesn’t succeed in its transition to the extent that the likes of Benjamin’s work on Legally Blonde did (adapting similar material), but there are enough bangers, winningly performed, and Nicholaw keeps it all moving at a punchy enough pace that it never lags.

“Anyone familiar with the film will be pleased to know all the fan favourite lines and quips are present and accounted for.”

Helping the touring production immeasurably is a terrific cast assembled for the year book. Sure, Faye Tozer (of Steps fame) feels horribly underutilised despite playing three roles, but she at least gets to have fun as Regina’s ersatz, gin-swigging wannabe influencer mom. Gill whips up loads of laughs and characterful hijinks, too, as a suitably flamboyant Damian – his ‘Where Do You Belong’ song and dance number an early highlight.

But perhaps unsurprisingly, it is Cady and the ladies who command the stage and really deliver on the promise of Mean Girls as a musical outing. Emily Lane is a confident and engaging leading lady, and tackles some of the big sings with real relish. Kiara Dario and Sophie Pourret are a scream as Regina’s doting disciples; Dario bringing nuance to her paranoid, needy Gretchen, and Pourret absolutely hilarious as the somehow knowingly clueless Karen.

Vivian Panka, meanwhile, knows the assignment only too well when it comes to playing such an iconic role as Regina George, devouring the stage as the ruthless, conniving leader of the pack. She belts for the back rows and beyond, but is just as intoxicating in George’s quieter or more sultry moments. And she is perfectly met by former bestie and complete yin to her yang, Janis – a quite sensational Georgie Buckland, who continues to prove herself a formidable musical theatre talent to watch with a soaring, powerhouse and giddily punk take on the scorned outsider.

So, come for the quotes about heavy menstruation and sizeable vaginas, stay for the electric performances, terrific ensemble, a bus load of pop bangers and overall a zesty, high-energy musical that is even more fetch than Spring Fling.

Sorry, we’ll stop trying to make that happen.

Anyway… get in, loser, we’re going touring.

At the close of Robin Hood – this year’s festive offering from the Birmingham Hippodrome – fan favourite Matt Slack informs the crowd of a genuinely impressive benchmark. It just so happens to be bonafide legend – and ‘special guest’ star – Christopher Biggins’ sixtieth panto outing.

It’s a crowd-pleasing denouement to what has been a legitimately inspired and hilarious running gag throughout, as Biggins is repeatedly wheeled out (sometimes literally) throughout the show for a brief few moments, only to be chastised and kicked straight back off stage, as it isn’t yet time for his King Richard’s return. It’s just one of many wrinkles that makes this production so fresh, fun and gleefully silly, and just you wait to see what they do with him in ‘If I Were Not Upon the Stage’.

Back to panto Top Trumps though, and it isn’t as though Slack himself is, well… slacking. Hood marks his own twenty-third pantomime production, and an impressive twelfth consecutive year in Brum. It’s clear from the moment he first comically struts onto the stage that the audiences clearly still eat him up, and from this red letter outing, it isn’t difficult to see why. Nipping at his heels with an eye-popping assemblage of utterly genius frocks and get ups is the wonderful Andrew Ryan, chalking up his ninth consecutive visit to the Hippodrome and once again proving there really is nothing like a great dame (yes, I said dame).

“It’s clear from the moment he first comically struts onto the stage that the audiences clearly still eat him up…”

The highly successful model of QDOS migrating last year’s London Palladium offering to the Hippodrome continues this year with Hood. If you paid a visit to Julian Clary and Jane McDonald’s iteration in 2024 you’ll already be familiar with the lavish production values, stunning costumes and general narrative bent (hint: it’s utter nonsense, but joyfully so), and yet there’s undoubtedly more than enough here that is fresh and new to make it a comfortable must-see.

Slack is, as mentioned, one of the major draws. It almost goes without saying now, but he is effortlessly entertaining and wheels out a host of materials, gags and routines old and new. We get the human jukebox hijinks and aforementioned ‘Not Upon the Stage’, in addition to new flourishes such as a spirited acrobatic interlude with The Acromaniacs and a genuinely jaw-dropping and side-splitting about-turn in one of his late show staples (hint: it involves younger members of the audiences). It’s a joy, and seriously impressive, to consider he’s been gracing the Hippodrome stage for over a decade and he feels as spritely, animated and irrepressible as ever.

Ryan is once again a delicious panto dame, this time as Robin’s mother, Henrietta, and although past years have offered stiff competition and set an astronomically high and elaborate bar, Teresa Nalton’s costumes and concoctions this time round have to surely be the best to date. From a mushroom masterpiece to practically an entire gazebo – trimmed bush and all – the invention and whimsy is off the scale.

But, as is par for the course with the Hippodrome, the wider cast and production fire on plenty of cylinders of their own, too. TV favourite Gok Wan returns and is an ebullient gem, with the genuine rapport he shares with Slack completely palpable and utterly infectious. They somehow even manage to make the frequent planned corpsing feel completely naturalistic and quite the hoot, when it can so easily feel grating. The two make a formidable comic pairing, as Gok Scarlett and the titular hero dabble about in heroics, slapstick and even a spot of bedroom mischief.

“TV favourite Gok Wan returns and is an ebullient gem, with the genuine rapport he shares with Slack completely palpable and utterly infectious.”

The X Factor champion Matt Cardle is suitably boo-hiss-able as a wolf-corralling Sheriff of Nottingham, whilst Steps’ Faye Tozer is a feisty and no-nonsense Maid Marian. Naturally, she riffs off a bit of ‘Tragedy’ and ‘Afraid of the Dark’, too, and sounds damn good doing so, to boot. And if that weren’t enough belting and heavy hitting for you, Robin Hood rounds out its vocal artillery with musical theatre veteran and powerhouse Sandra Marvin as the Spirit of Sherwood Forest.

Transmogrifying the already acclaimed spectacle and bombast of the Palladium’s serving last year (gigantic animatronic wolf and all) and infusing it with a great new cast, local favourites and a host of original ideas and unrelenting silliness has proven a recipe success at the Hippodrome for several years now. But even by that metric and expectation, Robin Hood is an especially joyful and colourful beast.

Grab your ‘old longbow’ and steal from the rich to nab yourself a ticket if you must. In over a decade of anticipating and reviewing the Hippodrome’s annual pantomime offering, Slack and his band of merry men and women may have just conjured up their finest hour to date, and the funniest, most glamorous pantomime this side of Gilly Gilly Ossenfegger Katzenellen Bogen by the Sea.

How do you solve a problem like Cruella?

Dodi Smith’s indefatigable, fur-worshipping villainess is arguably, at this point, almost too iconic for her own good. From Betty Lou Gerson’s inimitable work in the animated Disney classic, through to equally seminal interpretations from the likes of Glenn Close and even Emma Stone’s recent, punked up anti-heroine, it’s getting harder than ever to serve up an original, satisfying take on the fan favourite queen of mean.

And yet, as the marketing for Douglas Hodge and Johnny McKnight’s new musical adaptation of Smith’s novel (nothing to do with the House of Mouse) clearly showcases, the character is still very much the big draw. Much like Disney’s 1996 live action Hollywood adaptation, which plonked Close’s Cruella front and centre on billboards, posters et al, this new touring production knows the lure of the De Vil woman.

Originally debuting at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre in 2022, to focus solely on Dalmatians’ big bad would do something of a disservice to what is, all round, a rather delightful slice of family entertainment. McKnight’s book (developed from Zinnie Harris’ stage adaptation) yanks Smith’s tale into the 21st Century, modernising relations between its human characters in particular in a way that feels mostly organic and fresh. And for sure, there’s some occasional borrowing from John Hughes’ ’96 screenplay, not least of all in having Cruella once again donning the mantle of fashion mogul (right down to the company name).

“…there’s charm and character to spare.”

Jimmy Grimes’ (War Horse) puppetry features prominently, for both the titular canines and a variety of other supporting four legged friends. From trusty Dalmatian parents Pongo (Linford Johnson) and Perdi (Emma Thornett) to a sassy Poodle, plodding Great Dane and a wonderful slinking, sass-backing cat, there’s charm and character to spare, and the talented company do great work with the majority of them puppeteering at one point or another. Notably, be it down to budget, time or vision, the menagerie of puppets and puppets here do feel a notable step up from the already pleasing work Grimes and team undertook for a similarly conceived Dalmatians at the Birmingham Rep back in 2017.

Douglas Hodge’s music for the show proves to be something off a mixed bag of spots. There are hearty anthems of home and belonging to be found in the likes of ‘Bury that Bone’, whilst Cruella herself get some fun numbers (in particular a vampy Act I curtain closer). And there’s a definite sense that, in set pieces such as a jaunty ode to criminality (featuring a cameo from a certain blonde tussled ex-Prime Minister, no less) and the show’s take on ‘twilight barking’, Hodge and director Bill Buckhurst really start tapping into the fact that this is, well, an actual musical.

“…a show decidedly of two halves…”

It’s a show decidedly of two halves, though. The onus of the first act is heavily slanted towards Cruella and her fellow humans, whilst act II makes good on the pups. It does feel slightly fractured as a result, and it’s likely that the adults will find themselves preferring the campiness, interplay and dynamics of the first half, whereas the younger audiences will lap up the more slapstick, puppet-centric antics of the latter.

But it does mean that prickly dilemma rears its villainous, two-toned head once more. Namely, that as with almost anything Dalmatians, when you have such a delicious, larger-than-life villain as Cruella at your disposal, any time that she’s not on stage or screen you can easily find yourself somewhat restlessly awaiting her return.

That isn’t to say the rest of the characters or cast underwhelm. Samuel Thomas and Jessie Elland are extremely likeable as Pongo and Verdi’s human owners, even if they are given precious little to do beyond their initial meet cute. Charles Brunton and Danny Hendrix, meanwhile, offer up toddler-friendly fun and dole out plenty of lampoonery and shenanigans as Cruella’s henchmen, Casper and Jasper, refashioned here as her nephews.

But there’s just no getting away from it – this is Cruella’s world, and we theatregoers, not to mention those pesky spotted mongrels, are simply living in it. Perhaps this Dalmatians’ biggest achievement is in how it manages to both capture the core spite, malice and malevolent glee of the character of Cruella De Vil, whilst still distilling her into something that feels different and fresh. Faye Tozer, who has previously shown serious comedy chops in the likes of Singin’ in the Rain, proves a fabulous and inspired choice for this sardonic, at times even deadpan take on the character. Full of scathing quips, side swipes and withering putdowns (brace yourself for a truly genius and oh-so-Cruella response to voiced concerns about PETA), Tozer is an absolute hoot in the role. Yes, she eventually makes good on the cackling, unhinged maniac that ultimately lurks beneath the fur coats and animal trophies, but on the way to that we get to revel in a caustic, sarcastic and deliciously dry grand dame who more than lives up to her namesake.

“Faye Tozer… proves a fabulous and inspired choice…”

Overall, 101 Dalmatians doesn’t rewrite the rulebook or drastically reimagine Smith’s novel in ways beyond some fine tuning and pleasant modernising. It hits a couple of snags and bumps here and there – there can occasionally be a bit too much going on on-stage, leading to the odd moments where it isn’t immediately clear whether animal or human is talking. Sequences such as Cruella’s henchmen attempting to bag the fifteen puppies feels plucked from something more closely resembling a CBeebies show, and an eleventh hour spot of moonlight madness with Cruella is completely baffling.

But these minor fumbles aside, there’s clearly a lot of passion being poured into what is a colourful, fresh take on the beloved classic. Amanda Ozdonmez’ costumes are decadent and high-concept (and there’s no prizes for guessing which character gets the best threads). As a musical it can feel a bit lopsided, and which half more vigorously tickles (or buries!) your funny bone will likely be determined by how old you are, but overall this is wholesome, paw-esome fun for the whole family, with a deliciously campy and original take on one of literature, screen and stage’s most irrepressible and iconic villains.

Just do yourself a favour, and do everything you can to avoid the nightmare-inducing horror that is the final realisation of its title. By the time you see a window full of soulless, floating Dalmatian heads, with others terrifyingly propped up between doors and furniture, you’ll be thinking that maybe, just maybe that wicked – and wickedly funny – De Vil woman had the right idea all along.

Thank god for that final surprise cameo to distract from the nascent horror.