Pied Piper - UK Tour Review

★★★★☆

At Derby Theatre, Conrad Murray’s Pied Piper arrives not with a flute and doublet, but with a mic and the fierce power of beatbox. Billed as a family musical, it reimagines the folk tale through rhythm, rap and raw vocal dexterity. The question is: is a stripped-back beatbox musical of a classic story the new blueprint for family theatre, or do children still need glitter cannons and fairy-lit spectacle to stay entertained?

Pied Piper at Derby Theatre. Photo Credit: Matthew Cooper.

For anyone unfamiliar with the tale, Pied Piper follows a mysterious musician who arrives in a rat-plagued town exploited by its greedy mayor. The townsfolk, overworked and underpaid, cry out for change. The Piper offers a solution: he will rid the town of its infestation in exchange for gold. When the mayor breaks his promise, the Piper turns his talents elsewhere, leading the town’s children away. Murray’s version leans heavily into community and resistance, all delivered through a contemporary musical language rooted in hip-hop and vocal percussion.

Let’s begin with the show’s most extraordinary asset: the sound. I remain genuinely baffled that every beat, bassline, scratch effect and percussive hit came solely from the seven performers on stage. No backing tracks, no hidden band, just human mouths. It is not a gimmick; it is the engine of the production. As the Piper, Conrad Murray proves himself not only a confident writer and composer, but a supremely watchable frontman. The evening opens with him breaking the fourth wall, teaching the audience the basics of beatboxing and inviting us into his world with a prologue. It is a savvy choice. Within minutes, he has built a rapport that many performers spend an entire first act chasing. His charisma is easy, unforced and generous; he knows precisely how to hold a room.

Aziza Brown’s Crochet possesses that elusive quality of stage magnetism: your eye is drawn to her. Her vocal strength is matched by incredible beatboxing skills, most thrillingly displayed in an onstage beatbox battle. That battle, incidentally, becomes one of the evening’s highlights. Alex Hardie, as Tempo, may well steal the show for some. His command of vocal sound effects is jaw-dropping. From white-noise swells to seismic bass drops, he conjures textures that seem technologically enhanced, yet are entirely organic. When he transitions into full-voiced singing, the tone shifts again; there is a smooth, ‘90s boy-band timbre to his sound that adds a layer of polish.

As the corrupt mayor, David Bonnick Jr delivers a performance pitched skilfully between camp villainy and credible threat. He tiptoes along that delicate line: heightened enough for children to relish, restrained enough that adults are not wincing. His physicality is bold and elastic, and he generates genuine comic heat. Around them, Catriona Malbaski (Robyn), Celest Denyer (Solo) and Jevoughn Gregg-Fuller (Simmy Snorkin) sustain the production’s infectious energy. The ensemble work is tight, rhythmically precise and choreographically sharp, creating a company dynamic that highlights the show’s message of community.

What makes this production feel radical is its refusal to patronise its audience. This is not saccharine, glitter-drenched children’s theatre engineered to distract with spectacle. It trusts that young people can engage with complex rhythms, layered lyrics, and moral ambiguity; not just an attention span for a 3-minute TikTok. Pied Piper demonstrates that craft and authenticity are more compelling than pyrotechnics. The inclusion of a local community group feels like a genuine extension of the show’s ethos. Their presence is uplifting, seamlessly integrated and theatrically justified, but also insanely cute!

The drawback is that the storytelling falters. The entire narrative is propelled through rap and song, and while this gives the piece its distinctive voice, it also obscures the clarity. The lyrics are full of metaphors, alliteration, and rhymes, and occasionally the poetry takes priority over the plot. Even for an adult familiar with the source material, there are moments when I lost where I was in the story. Murry could easily write a catchy album worthy of repeated listening, such is his undeniable talent, but in a family show, storytelling is paramount, and tightening the narrative would polish this piece.

Pied Piper is one of the most inventive and exciting pieces of children’s theatre I have seen. It proves that imagination and skill can outshine budget-heavy spectacle, and that young audiences are more than ready for something bold. Imperfect? Yes. But thrilling, original and powered by extraordinary talent. If this is the direction family theatre is heading, then it is in very safe hands.