101 Dalmatians review: The influencer economy comes for Pongo and Perdi

The puppets are cute in this musical adaptation but the social media references are cringey

Eric Stroud and Karen Fishwick as Dominic and Danielle in ‘101 Dalmatians' (Mark Senior)

Musical theatre is in a love affair with social media. Some shows, such as Dear Evan Hansen and Millennials at the Other Palace, have tackled it directly. In Andrew Lloyd Webber’s take on Cinderella, meanwhile, the classic tale was transposed into a world of Instagram-obsessed Love Island wannabes. The new production of 101 Dalmatians at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre takes the same tack. And – as with Cinderella – it’s safe to say that it doesn’t always work.

We know the story. Dalmatians Pongo and Perdi (portrayed here as puppets, voiced by Ben Thompson and Emma Lucia) catch eyes in the park, bringing their humans Dominic and Danielle (Eric Stroud and Karen Fishwick) together. Soon come puppies upon puppies upon puppies, which Dominic and Danielle give up everything to focus on – although it’s not really clear what their jobs were anyway. And then Cruella De Vil (Kate Fleetwood) bursts into their lives (and, uninvited, their home) in a flurry of vape smoke, with a dastardly plan involving fur coats.

As in the recent production of The Life of Pi, it’s no surprise that the puppets are the highlights of the show. Perdy and Pongo are each moved by a puppeteer and actor, the latter playing their back legs and singing voices. The puppies (who are, naturally, really stinking cute) are hand-controlled heads and wiggly wagging tails. A handful of other puppets make brief appearances – a lolloping velvet Shar Pei is particularly gorgeous – but they feel underused to make room for their spotty siblings.

They may be our heroes, but Dominic and Danielle feel a bit wet in comparison to the other characters. But then again, so does basically everyone compared to Fleetwood’s Cruella. She is a Louboutin-wearing right-wing influencer, railing against migrants, welfare users and cancel culture to her 400,000 followers. She may be evil, but Cruella gets the bulk of the funniest lines in the script (“No one makes a mug of Cruella DeVil unless it’s official merchandise!”) and Fleetwood luxuriates in their delivery.

The show’s score, by Douglas Hodge, is catchy enough, but it lacks any earworms. The closest song I came to humming as I left was Fleetwood’s first act closer “Bring Me Fur”. As she stands at the top of the staircase, the ensemble collapses to form her huge train of pelts: the image is supremely striking.

The problem with Cruella, however, goes to the heart of this adaptation. Social media references in musical theatre divide audiences, but they were eyeroll-worthy in Cinderella and are borderline unbearable here. It doesn’t matter how contemporary the nods to hashtags and incels feel now; they’ll be dated before this production can take on a new life. Call it the Evan Hansen effect – actively preventing the show from becoming the classic it so desperately wants to be.

101 Dalmatians is at the Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre until 28 August