Little Otik - Vanishing Point and the National Theatre of Scotland

Reviews of Little Otik

Say what you like about the National Theatre of Scotland, you cannot fault it for the breadth of its repertoire. From Euripides to Gregory Burke, from graphic novels to devised site-specific work, it has been there and done that. Even by its standards, though, backing [director] Matthew Lenton's tiny Vanishing Point company in an adaptation of a piece of surreal cult Czech animation is a long shot.

Between them they have burrowed deep into the various subtexts to introduce a coherent framework of ideas around the theme of fertility and growth. The stage is covered with rich dark loam from which things begin to sprout; the back wall is a kaleidoscope of complex projections from trees to sperm to the very ordinary town in which these very extraordinary events are played out. 

What emerges at the centre of the piece . . . is the coming to maturity of Elspeth, the little girl next door. Rebecca Smith, in an astonishingly assured professional debut, catches that moment of standing on the brink of womanhood, awkward, knowing, part-Lolita, part-philosopher.
The Times * * * *

Matthew Lenton's production, a collaboration with the National Theatre of Scotland, is visually ravishing. Kai Fischer's set is a field of barren soil, waiting for the rain to usher in new life, while projections of sperm, foetuses and babies flicker across the back wall of the family's flat. There is no such thing as the innocence of childhood for as long as the neighbourhood paedophile is at large.Matthew Lenton's thrilling production – co-adapted by leading actor Sandy Grierson and the company – throws a huge battery of state-of-the-art theatrical devices at this powerful story, without ever losing control of its own chilling, tragic-grotesque atmosphere.

Extending Svankmajer's surrealism, Lenton's actors coax babies and cabbages from the ground and even find a real cat in a pram, while Christopher Shutt's score keeps the show on an uneasy line between laughter and fear. As distinctive in its way as Improbable's Shockheaded Peter, Little Otik is a macabre delight,
The Guardian * * * *

 

There's superb, understated suburban-hell design by Kai Fischer; beautiful back-projected images by Finn Ross; animatronic puppetry of the most chilling post-human kind, and a superb cast of nine, led by Sandy Grierson and Louise Ludgate in chilling edge-of-reason form as the doting parents, and unforgettable newcomer Rebecca Smith as the lonely little girl next door.
The Scotsman * * * *

The Fosters (as the young couple are here) have been told by doctors that they have no hope of having a child of their own. They embark on a bizarre adoption when Carl Foster (the excellent Sandy Grierson) and his Czech-Scottish wife Bozena (the fine Louise Ludgate) take "Little Otik" from the forest to live and grow in their home.

On one level, the unhappy (but comically horrible) tale which follows can be read as a sympathetic metaphor for the all-consuming pain of those who want desperately to have children but cannot.

On another, as suggested by the character of a lonely young girl (a remarkably brave and nuanced performance from Rebecca Smith), it is an exploration of the breadth and depth of childhood imagination.

Director Matthew Lenton's captivating production is most notable for its technical accomplishments. Both Kai Fischer's set and lighting and Christopher Shutt's sound and music are beautifully attuned to the atmosphere of a story which is, by turns, menacing and elegiac.
Daily Telegraph

As the dangerously precocious Elspeth Meadows, Rebecca Smith gives an extraordinary performance and carries the weight of the production on her shoulders. That she does so is all the more remarkable given the calibre of adult actors in the cast (which also includes Pauline Goldsmith and Ann Scott-Jones). Some will undoubtedly feel uncomfortable watching such a young actress playing a character who understands only too well the potential power she has over adults. She is, however, the product of a paranoid age in which the response to the cautionary tales of Madeline [McCann] and Shannon [Matthews] has been irrational and, arguably, counter-productive

Little Otik, then, is the story of well-meaning parents who unintentionally create a monster. And also a couple who adopt a tree stump.
Onstage Scotland

Superb set and lighting design by Kai Fischer, complete with a hut that drops in from the flies, animatronic puppetry (by Ewan Hunter) that makes you shiver with every gesture, projections (by Finn Ross) that are quite beautiful, convincing rain and a real cat.

The performances, too, are of a universally high standard, none more so than that of young debutante Rebecca Smith, through whose not-always-reliable eyes the bizarre tale unfolds. Louise Ludgate and Sandy Grierson are outstanding as the childless couple who adopt a lump of wood as their surrogate son, without foreseeing the dangers of the appetite they are creating.
The Herald * * *

Through the bond built with Otik by lonely young girl Elspeth Meadows (Rebecca Smith on wonderfully confident, subtle form), [Little Otik] pays tribute to the power both of stories and the childhood imagination. This isn't a fairytale, says Elspeth's neighbour, Mrs Hawthorne (the excellent Ann Scott-Jones); but it is a fairytale, of course, and one worthy of the Brothers Grimm themselves.
Sunday Herald * * *

There is much to admire here, including clever use of animation, fine performances from the cast, in particular Rebecca Smith as the precocious Elspeth, and the use of leitmotifs about nature and nurture. The rake of earth set on which the show is played out also deserves praise.
Metro * * *