Bliss

Bliss begins with four princesses locked in a tower by their father, the King, after their mother's death. Forced into a punishing programme of study, they promise to complete a year's work in a day to earn their freedom and see the comet. Using all their individual abilities and quirks, they almost succeed, but fail at the last moment. Not content to stay locked away forever, they escape to a world rather more interested in perfection than individuality.

The production is at its most inventive when it turns that idea into something visual. Tangled vines make a messy backdrop to the polished world, while the Prince and Guard wear sequinned uniforms studded with tiny mirrors, a neat little echo of the show's preoccupation with copying, reflection and appearance. Even the house lights become a blinding follow spot. Tom Bennett's Glimmermore, the Fairy Godfather, brings a wonderfully self-satisfied arrogance to the role, his relish for the performance itself giving the show some much-needed edge.

The Pink Lagoon takes that obsession with perfection one step further. Girls are “dipped” into it and emerge beautified and absorbed into the world around them, prompting the question, “Why do they all look the same?” Glimmermore responds: “Don’t be silly. They’re all different.”

The social-media reading is obvious, perhaps too obvious, but the show gives it a colourful, literal form.

The girls move between folk-inspired and girl-band numbers, while the boys get their boy-band turns, ranging from polished, stadium-sized pop in the vein of Robbie Williams to more heavily produced material that feels rather less convincing. The folk songs are the strongest, particularly “That’s Why We Lock Our Children in Towers”, which gives Cameron Johnson's King a chance to show off a powerful voice and stage presence. Jordan Calloway's Prince Devin, meanwhile, is sent into dated EDM territory which feels rather like being blasted loudly back to 2015. The battle of genres is an interesting motif, but no excuse for bad music.

The timing and dancing are exceptional, thoroughly filling the stage, and Alexandra Emmerson-Kirby’s Carmella brings a practised intensity to the vocals. There is a lot of energy in the performance, and the production is very sure of itself physically. It knows how to make its central idea visible.

The difficulty is that the idea itself does not become much more interesting as the show goes on. The mirrors, dipping, costumes and competing musical styles keep returning to the same question of whether to follow everyone else or be yourself, without taking it somewhere particularly surprising. The message is positive, and an important one, but the further Bliss goes, the more the polish starts to run ahead of the substance.

Bliss by Susan Edelstein Productions, ATG Productions, Gavin Kalin Productions.