Some thoughts on revivals and characters' model behaviour

One of the interesting challenges with revivals, especially for children’s theatre, is deciding how much to adapt them for a new audience. The target age group for a family show is always changing, and the children who saw a production ten years ago are now teenagers, unlikely to return for the same piece. This is one reason revivals are an essential part of the programming model at many theatres. They allow companies to bring back popular, well-loved shows with smaller outgoings, so more resources can be invested in creating new work.

This also means that revivals are often remounted quickly and efficiently rather than entirely reimagined. There is a careful balance between honouring the original production and making sure the piece still feels alive and relevant for today’s audiences.

One question that often arises is around the way characters behave, particularly those who model less-than-perfect behaviour. Should these portrayals be updated to reflect current thinking, or should they remain as written to preserve the original story’s truth?

In the rehearsal room for our most recent revival of The Paper Dolls, we spent time exploring the emotional depth of each character. All three, Rosie, her Mum, and her younger brother Tommy, are experiencing grief in different ways. Rosie clings to her paper dolls, Mum wrestles with the frustrations of everyday parenting, and Tommy antagonises his sister. Importantly, his ‘naughty’ behaviour is not presented as an inherent flaw but as an expression of sadness. Rosie, too, acts out when upset. For us, it was important that none of the characters were perfect, and that they were truthful to the moment.

There are also practical factors that affect how these relationships are shown. In The Paper Dolls, the same actor plays both Mum and Tommy, so they never interact on stage. As a result, certain nuances, such as Mum responding to Tommy’s behaviour, are left for the audience to imagine.

While Tommy’s actions are impactful, this is ultimately Rosie’s story. In the original picture book, her brother is unnamed and his motives unexplored. The stage adaptation gives him more presence, but the emotional heart still lies with Rosie’s journey through love and loss. We see her grief unfold in real time, while Tommy’s regret is a fleeting moment before the focus returns to Rosie.

Perhaps there is room in future revivals to explore his journey more explicitly. However, there is also value in not showing every resolution. Life rarely ties itself up neatly, and sometimes leaving space for the audience to imagine what happens next is just as powerful.

Revivals remind us that theatre is both a record of its original moment and a living, breathing art form. It should always be present and alive, but it does not always need to be perfect or perfectly resolved.