Review: BALLET SHOES, National Theatre
‘We three Fossils vow to distinguish our name. So that we can make our own futures. In absence of a past. And so that we can make a lot of money to take care of ourselves and everyone we know. And in five or twenty or a hundred million years from now when they talk about us in the history books, no one will say it’s because of our grandfathers.’
Ballet Shoes tells the enchanting story of three sisters—Pauline, Petrova, and Posy—adopted under extraordinary circumstances by Great Uncle Matthew (aka GUM), played by Justin Salinger, a quirky palaeontologist with a passion for fossils and, as fate would have it, orphaned children. Each sister, discovered during one of GUM’s globe-trotting expeditions, grows up in an eccentric household filled with dinosaur bones and fossils. When GUM vanishes on an extended expedition, the sisters are left in the care of his niece Sylvia (Pearl Mackie) and the formidable housekeeper Nana (Jenny Galloway), alongside a colourful group of lodgers. As the sisters come of age, each is drawn to a unique passion—Pauline dreams of the stage, Petrova of mechanics, and Posy of ballet. Together, they navigate the trials of ambition, the pursuit of their dreams, and the challenges of keeping their unconventional family united.
Katy Rudd’s Ballet Shoes fully embraces its own magic, delivering a production that brims with warmth and charm. The heart of the show lies with the Fossil sisters—Pauline (Grace Saif), Petrova (Yanexi Enriquez), and Posy (Daisy Sequerra)—whose performances are vibrant and layered. Their chemistry is spot-on, capturing the bickering, teasing, and unwavering love that defines sibling relationships. Their interactions with guardians Sylvia and Nana are heartfelt and grounding, offering tender moments amidst the play’s more whimsical elements.
The lodgers in the Fossil household provide some of the play’s most compelling relationships. Dance teacher Theo Dane (Nadine Higgin) becomes Posy’s steadfast mentor, nurturing her passion for ballet. English professor Doctor Jakes (Helena Lymbery) champions Pauline’s dream of acting, offering her encouragement and intellectual guidance. Petrova, meanwhile, finds a confidant in car mechanic Jai Saran (Sid Sagar), who inspires her to pursue her love for engines and aeroplanes. These characters are more than mentors; they are the vital threads that bind this unconventional family together, adding texture and depth to the story.
A key theme running through Ballet Shoes is how these extraordinary girls and women confront societal barriers while pursuing their ambitions. Sylvia, abandoned as a teenager by GUM, shoulders the immense responsibility of raising three babies, sacrificing her dream of becoming an archaeological illustrator. Nana, another casualty of GUM’s whims, is thrust into a caretaking role, left to juggle babies, a teenager, and a house filled with fossils. The play quietly asks, did anyone stop to consider what dreams Nana had for herself? Doctor Jakes, a brilliant academic, faces prejudice and loses her career, home, and partner simply because of her sexuality. Despite their personal struggles, these women serve as role models, inspiring the sisters to persevere and giving them the freedom to discover their dreams—a privilege not everyone has.
While the play lacks a grand conflict and follows a predictable trajectory, it is rich in warmth, humour, and heartfelt moments that keep the fairytale alive. Frankie Bradshaw’s set design is detailed and intricate, perfectly capturing the chaotic yet cosy Fossil household. Samuel Wyer’s costumes are equally thoughtful, reflecting the individual personalities of each character with flair.
Ballet Shoes is a heartwarming and inspiring production that celebrates resilience, the power of community, and the transformative nature of the arts. It reminds us of the importance of daring to dream and having the courage to chase those dreams, no matter the obstacles, leaving us inspired by the enduring magic of creativity.
**** Four stars
Reviewed by: Aleeza Humranwala