The Wind in the Willows (KXT on Broadway) ★★★1/2

Written by Alan Bennett (from the novel by Kenneth Grahame). KXT on Broadway. Dec 8-23, 2023.

If I were to sum up The Wind in the Willows at KXT on Broadway in one word it would be ‘charming’. There is a quintessentially British charm to the story of Ratty, Moley, Mr Toad and Badger that, not unlike Paul King’s Paddington films, taps into an idea of childhood without delving into childishness.

Playwright Alan Bennett’s list of achievements is long.  From The Madness of King George to The History Boys and The Habit of Art, he’s produced work that dissects Britishness from various angles. His adaptation of Kenneth Grahame’s beloved book does the same, albeit with a gentler hand. The masterstroke is the way Bennett peels back some of the kid-friendly facade to show us the (slightly) darker side beneath. 

Photo by Brittany Santariga

Around the edges of the story, Bennett amps up some quick asides on the judiciary, consumerism and immigration that flesh out the slight tale with some meat for the adults. It’s welcome as this production narrows its focus down to characters with no sets, minimal props and some inventive costuming by Isabella Holder to give you the essence of the characters. This feels like a group of players popping up with an impromptu show and has a similarly fun, “make-do” energy to the performances.

Without the usual trappings of stagecraft to fall back on, all the attention is firmly on the performances. Elyse Phelan is simply adorable as Mole. She and James Raggatt (Ratty) have a wonderfully easy chemistry. Michael Doris’s Mr Toad is suitably silly but not quite the force-of-nature he is in the books. The ensemble are all excellent in a variety of roles, especially Miranda Daughtry’s menacing Cockney Weazel and Jack Richardson’s ridiculous Judge (“Gavel gavel gavel!”).

Photo by Brittany Santariga

There’s a melancholy that wraps itself around the show, a reminder of a simpler Britain that’s been lost and our own childhoods left behind. In the end, sometimes it’s just the memories of old friends that stick with us, and there’s a joy in that as well.


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