Aladdin: Prince Edward Theatre

“Prince Ali! Fabulous he! Ali Ababwa.” If there’s one thing I can’t shake off after seeing Disney’s latest West End hit it’s the ear worms. They come at all times of the day. And night. The sing-a-long tunes are infectious but after a recent bout of flu they have been a welcome distraction and a great reminder of a night to remember.

I’m the first to admit I’m a bit of a Disney junkie, being bought up on the classics, but Aladdin and the Lion King are up there as my favourites. And being completely blown away by the stage adaption of the latter, I had high hopes for the Genie and his friends.

They didn’t disappoint. From the moment we sat down (with the exception of a 10-minute ‘technical pause’) to the curtains coming down after the finale we were transported to a land a million miles away.

The show opens in the fabulous Agrabah where we’re told ‘even our poor people look fabulous’ and ‘everybody sings’, both of course are true. Your eyes, and senses, are fantastically teased and pulled around the colourful, busy, hectic street scenes, before being introduced to everyone’s favourite street urchin Aladdin (played by understudy Ethan Le Phong on the night of our performance) and his three musketeers.

Hats (including lots of Fez’s and feathers) off to the set design team; the landscapes never fail to take your breath away throughout the show and appear so effortlessly despite the incredible level of detail.

And just like the Lion King the familiarity fills you with all that childhood warmth. And fear. Don Gallagher and Peter Howe make the perfectly sinister pair as Jafar and his pint-sized human accomplice Iago – possibly my favourite in the cast. Unlike the Lion King (forgive the comparisons but it was always going to happen), and possibly in a move to stop people like me comparing the two, there is a distinct lack of animals. Exactly none to be precise. But you’ll want to pop the deliciously mischievous Iago – Jafar’s parrot – in your pocket. Regularly reminding his master to go to his ‘happy place’ Iago portrays the role perfectly and the two complement (if that’s possible) one another so well.

Another top performance (there are so many to mention) is the favourite Genie – Dion Nicholas’ London stage debut – and let’s hope it’s the start of many in the West End. You want your own personal lamp to make him appear over and over again; his humour is infectious, his dancing contagious and his hope for freedom modest. You want to be his friend and as he asks in one of the catchy songs: ‘Do your friends do this? Do your friends do tap?’ you can’t help but tap, and sing, along.

If Aladdin is familiar, and predictably comforting, it doesn’t fail to stop you in your tracks with some magical moments. Somehow quite traditional there’s still room for some showing-off, opulent, over-the-top Arabian-Aladdin style.

The cave, complete with booming voice, vibrations and those quick-closing doors is just a taste of what’s to come and provides the perfect backdrop for our first introduction to Genie, who appears, in a puff of smoke from a tiny teeny lamp of course. And the addition of some very extravagant costumes, with endless diamonds (in fact, a single pair of men’s pants in the finale of Friend Like Me features 1,428 Swarovski crystals), gives Aladdin (and his audience) a glimpse of what could become and is a warm up to his impressive entrance as ‘Prince Ali’ and Princess Jasmine’s suitor.

The magic carpet scene is truly the main event and is to Aladdin what the cavern scene is to the Lion King (did it again, sorry!). It’s proof that there are no limits to what is possible in modern-day theatre. It took my breath away, and almost my sight as I strained to see how it was being held up as it flew across the world against a magical backdrop of twinkling stars.

Trust me, no strings attached. My love affair with Aladdin (and my obsession with becoming princess Jasmine) was reignited in one night. And not just because of all the diamonds. A captivating performance not to be missed. A whole new world. Not to be compared to the Lion King – I couldn’t possibly choose. And one that will keep me in ear worms for a while yet. Until I go to see it again anyway when I can sing (and tap) along once more.