Matilda the Musical – Edinburgh Playhouse. – Theatre, Art and Film Reviews

Despite the promise of spring, the evening in Edinburgh was wet and cold, making the warmth and colour of the Playhouse all the more inviting. Families and children shook off umbrellas and coats, ready to be carried away by the mischievous, imaginative world of Matilda the Musical. Fittingly, the performance I attended fell on World Book Day, a reminder of the story’s enduring celebration of books and imagination in a world increasingly dominated by glowing screens. What still shines through is the unmistakable voice of Roald Dahl. His sense of mischief, exaggeration and gleeful rebellion against pompous adults remains intact in the stage version. I was a devoted Dahl reader as a child, and the humour here feels instantly recognisable. There is a slightly rebellious, knowing tone that delighted a generation of young readers who are now parents in the audience. Watching with my own 13-year-old daughter, laughing at the same jokes, it was striking how humour cascades across generations.

The musical also retains Dahl’s fondness for stories within stories. Matilda’s tale of the escapologist and the acrobat unfolds like a classic Frame Narrative, gradually revealing how imagination can illuminate the truth hiding in plain sight. It’s a clever narrative device that reminds us storytelling isn’t just Matilda’s escape; it’s her way of understanding the often wicked world around her. The young performers carrying the title role do so with remarkable control. Madison Davis plays Matilda tonight, capturing her intelligence, curiosity and quiet defiance, while Carter-J Murphy as Bruce delivers the musical’s most gleefully anarchic moments. The chocolate cake scene, in particular, drew roaring laughter from children and adults alike, as Bruce squared up to the enormous cake with determination and delight. Another highlight, “When I Grow Up,” sees the children’s voices fill the theatre with hope in these troubled times.

If Matilda is the story’s quiet centre, then Miss Trunchbull is the dark storm that circles it. Played with booming authority by Richard Hurst, the monstrous headmistress arrives like a force of nature. Hurst delivers with a military bark, thunderous threats and exaggerated anger. By contrast, Tessa Kadler’s Miss Honey brings a gentler presence, providing the quiet emotional anchor the story needs and reminding us that kindness, not just cleverness, is what ultimately changes the world.

The parental figures are played with broad, cockney-inflected comedy, and Adam Stafford and Rebecca Thornhill make the Wormwoods a hilariously rough-edged pair. Stafford’s hair-styling antics drew big laughs, while Thornhill’s Mrs Wormwood exudes perfectly timed vanity. The exaggeration is clearly a theatrical device rather than social realism, but it underscores the absurdity of the adults and makes Matilda’s small acts of rebellion all the more satisfying. The ensemble numbers and Tim Minchin’s clever score provide constant energy. Songs dart between wordplay, satire, and genuine emotion, while choreography keeps the stage alive with motion and mischief. The company turns every number into a small riot of colour, movement, and joy, reminding the audience that imagination is as vital as ever.

At its heart, the story suggests that rebellion is sometimes the only sensible response to unfairness. In Dahl’s universe, the adults in charge are often ridiculous, cruel, or inattentive, and the children’s refusal to quietly accept it becomes an act of imagination rather than disobedience. Watching a theatre full of young people cheer Matilda’s defiance felt less like mischief and more like a reminder that questioning unfairness is a valuable instinct, no matter how old you are. On a night celebrating books, Matilda felt like more than just a musical. It was a reminder that stories can still spark imagination, shape a sense of humour, and occasionally encourage us to challenge the unfair things in front of us. From the small victories of Bruce Bogtrotter to the quiet courage of Matilda, it’s a joyous, witty, and surprisingly profound celebration of childhood, reading, and rebellion.

Review by Richard Purden.

Four Stars.