A welcoming, playful immersive theatre experience where babies, toddlers and adults play together, guided by a curious (and slightly pesky) squirrel we meet along the way.Rating
Excellent
Conceptual, welcoming and quietly magical, Squirrel is a story of discovery, told with warmth, intelligent wit and a sprinkling of theatrical mischief, cleverly curated by director Tim Bell. The production greets its audience with a quietly thrilling geometric visual feast that feels like we’ve stumbled into a beautiful Sandi-style wooden playground. Levers and pulleys beg to be tugged, vents puff sound into the space, and large, playful blocks are constantly on the move – becoming boats, platforms and pathways as the world is gently re-assembled before our eyes. This is a season-to-season immersive adventure, watched over by a squirrel who pops in and out of the action with curiosity.
This is not a neat play in the traditional sense, but rather a shared act of exploration. It feels closer to a piece of European arthouse cinema – a kind of baby-friendly film noir. Narrative is loose, driven by mood, image and sensation rather than plot – and that feels exactly right for the audience aged six months to four years.
Our human protagonist – Mother Earth (Josie Dale-Jones) – speaks in fragments: broken sentences, gentle questions, little self-soothing reassurances – “it will be ok”, “let’s see”. She mirrors the growing excitement (and occasional apprehension) of the young audience as she tries to fathom the world she’s landed in. Dressed in a suit and tie, there’s something endearingly familiar about her – as if she’s just come home from a very long day at work and needs to unpack, reconstruct and eventually let go enough to play. Like the squirrel, she slowly sheds expectations and settles into curiosity. There’s something abstractly fascinating about this disjointed, understated approach.
There’s also something quietly subversive about the performer. She holds the space with an air of ease and gentle anarchy, welcoming babies crawling through the set, older children chatting to her, offering acorns, tubes and cones – all while maintaining total control of the rhythm and flow.
There are some genuinely lovely moments. A simple cone exhales the mist of Autumn. Another carries us through an urban soundscape – trains, cars, distant chatter – as if the squirrel is peering out at the human world, trying to work out what it all means. When winter arrives and the squirrel hibernates, a slightly startled Dad finds himself temporarily in charge of the large puppet, while a silver moon sphere drifts into the wooden-framed world, scattering sharp, glittering light across the set. Light, designed by Dave Treanor, is subtle, precise and atmospheric. With the pull of a pulley, we’re transported to new places and moods with surprising clarity.
Sound is thoughtfully curated by Dinah Mullen. The piece sits inside a kind of Spotify mixtape: alongside everyday sounds, there’s a jazz-inflected, easy-listening feel – Perez Prado, Duke Ellington, great Steve Reich drumming – and snippets of familiar classical tracks from Max Richter’s Spring to a jazzy riff on Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker. Babies, toddlers and adults alike were more than happy to have a little wiggle along.
The squirrel puppet itself is fantastic. Designed and directed by Marc Parrett, it’s toddler-sized and refreshingly scruffy. This squirrel really needs to eat, so when it scrabbles close to the children, rediscovering the acorns it’s buried (small balls rolling down branches, tree trunks and onto the floor), the young audience rush in to feed it.
I really loved this piece, though it’s fair to say not everyone in the audience fully “got it”. This isn’t traditional theatre, and six months to four years is a huge age range. What utterly captivates a baby may not fully hold a confident, vocal, highly mobile four-year-old. But maybe that’s the point. This is a genuinely shared family experience, where different ages take different things – and no one is asked to sit still and behave.
And then it’s all over. As the performer slips away, the children keep playing among the blocks, cones and acorns, as if they themselves are little squirrels. Lovely.
Written by Kate Cross & Tim Bell, with Caroline Garland and the Company
Directed by Tim Bell
Associate Director: Caroline Garland
Dramaturg by Kate Cross
Design by Anisha Fields
Sound Design by Dinah Mullen
Puppetry Director: Marc Parrett
Lighting Design by Dave Treanor
Stage Manager: Lara Mattison
Production Managers: Ed Borgnis & Chris Swainswick
Squirrel plays at Unicorn Theatre until Sunday 22 February.





