The Big Bad Musical
The Big Bad Musical – Putting the Wolf on Trial and Fairy Tales on the Witness Stand
There is something magical about walking into a theatre for the very first time.
The architecture is unfamiliar. The corridors have no memories attached to them. Every light, every seat, every curtain feels like the beginning of a relationship waiting to happen.
That was my experience at the Roodepoort Theatre.
A beautiful venue with an undeniable sense of occasion. We were fortunate enough to sit right at the front, close enough to hear every laugh, witness every expression and become completely immersed in the world unfolding before us. It was my first visit, but if The Big Bad Musical is any indication of what this theatre offers, it certainly won't be my last.
Produced by Stageworx, The Big Bad Musical (16–30 July 2026) takes one of humanity's oldest storytelling traditions—the fairy tale—and gleefully turns it inside out. Written by Alec Strum, with original music and lyrics by Bill Francoeur, additional music and new songs by Matthew Marinus, musical direction by Gemma Marinus, and directed by Timothy Le Roux, the production asks an unexpectedly profound question beneath all its comedy:
What if history has misunderstood the Big Bad Wolf?
It is a question that transforms the familiar into something wonderfully unpredictable.
Instead of lurking in dark forests waiting for innocent victims, the Wolf finds himself standing before a courtroom.
Justice, rather than revenge, takes centre stage.
The audience becomes the jury.
Suddenly childhood memories become evidence.
Every fairy tale needs heroes and villains.
This musical suggests that perhaps neither exists quite as neatly as we remember.
The courtroom setting is inspired. It allows beloved characters from different fairy tales to collide naturally while exposing how unreliable stories can become after centuries of retelling.
The Big Bad Wolf insists he has been the victim of terrible public relations.
The Fairy Godmother prosecutes with unwavering confidence.
The Evil Stepmother—ironically one of fairy tales' most notorious villains—becomes the Wolf's defence attorney.
Immediately the production announces its intentions.
Nothing is sacred.
Everything is funny.
The audience's role elevates the experience beyond passive theatre.
We are no longer simply watching.
We are participants.
Jurors.
Every testimony, every joke and every musical number quietly asks us to make a decision.
Can someone escape their reputation?
Can a villain rewrite history?
Or are some actions impossible to forgive?
Personally, my verdict was simple.
Bad.
The Wolf may passionately insist he has become a vegan.
An admirable lifestyle choice.
Unfortunately, there remains the rather awkward matter of eating Red Riding Hood.
And her grandmother.
Eating people remains difficult to defend in any legal system.
Then there are the Three Little Pigs.
The Wolf openly admits he huffed.
He puffed.
He demolished a house.
When the evidence includes property destruction and attempted meals involving humans, centuries of "bad publicity" begin to resemble... accurate reporting.
The theatre itself reflected this delightful uncertainty.
Some audience members believed the Wolf had genuinely been misunderstood.
Others remained unconvinced.
Conversations erupted throughout the auditorium as strangers debated innocence and guilt like seasoned lawyers. After hearing the audience's views, the Judge ultimately ruled the Wolf...
Bad.
Justice, it seems, prevailed.
One of the production's greatest strengths is its refusal to treat its fairy-tale characters as cardboard cut-outs.
Every familiar face possesses personality.
They have opinions.
Flaws.
Vanity.
Humour.
Unexpected intelligence.
The production understands that audiences already know these characters.
Rather than introducing them, it reinvents them.
Musically, the production keeps its playful momentum through an energetic collection of songs that continuously push the story forward.
"Good or Bad" introduces the central question with infectious energy.
"Good Guy" cleverly explores reputation.
"Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf" transforms childhood familiarity into theatrical spectacle.
"The Wolf Likes Grandma's Clothes" embraces absurdity with complete confidence.
"He Huffed and Puffed" turns one of literature's most famous acts of destruction into comic musical theatre.
"I Cried Wolf" gives new life to another timeless tale.
Then comes perhaps the evening's funniest question:
"How Does Nobody Know What a Tuffet Is?"
To be perfectly honest...
Neither do I.
The mystery remains unsolved.
"This Wolf's a Vegan" may well be one of the production's most delightfully ridiculous ideas, while "Good or Bad (Reprise)" provides a satisfying conclusion that reminds us the trial has never really been about wolves.
It has always been about judgement.
The performances breathe vibrant life into every page of the script.
Jessica Driver delivers a commanding Fairy Godmother whose authority never overshadows her wit. She balances courtroom confidence with fairy-tale sparkle, making for a delightful prosecutor determined to expose the truth.
Bulelo Landman embraces the challenge of portraying a Wolf who is equal parts charismatic, suspicious, amusing and perpetually defensive. His performance keeps the audience guessing, and even when his explanations become increasingly unbelievable, he remains thoroughly entertaining.
Among the evening's greatest highlights is John Tsenoli as the Judge.
His timing is exceptional.
His reactions are priceless.
He anchors the courtroom while allowing the comedy to flourish around him, creating many of the production's loudest laughs. Every entrance, interruption and verdict lands with confidence, proving that authority figures can be every bit as funny as the accused.
Siba Dyaphu delivers an inspired Evil Stepmother whose role as defence attorney is one of the production's cleverest ideas. Watching one of fairy tales' most infamous villains passionately defend another supposed villain creates delicious dramatic irony.
Kristy Suttner, portraying both Grandmother Hood and The Shepherd, demonstrates impressive versatility, giving two distinct personalities equal charm.
Evanca Moolman's Miss Muffet adds playful energy and perfectly complements the production's whimsical spirit.
Neo Diabeng Kele captures Red Riding Hood with warmth, innocence and confidence, becoming an important emotional thread throughout the trial.
Jade Kabatznik, as Pig Three, contributes wonderfully to the production's ensemble chemistry, while Aidan Mc Arthur Antonio, as Pig Two, ensures the pigs' side of the story is heard with humour and conviction.
Malakai Marinus, portraying The Boy Who Cried Wolf, gives fresh life to another classic character, reminding us that truth has always been a complicated thing in fairy tales.
No performance feels forgotten.
Every actor contributes to a colourful theatrical tapestry where ensemble work matters just as much as individual brilliance.
Visually, the production delights in the familiar.
The costumes immediately identify each character while allowing their personalities to shine beyond the stories that first made them famous. The courtroom setting cleverly unifies characters from different fairy tales into a single believable world, creating an imaginative playground where wolves, pigs, fairy godmothers and nursery-rhyme legends coexist effortlessly.
Perhaps what impressed me most was the production's understanding of comedy.
Comedy is rhythm.
Timing.
Listening.
Reaction.
The biggest laughs often arrive not through dialogue alone but through pauses, glances and perfectly timed expressions. The cast demonstrates an excellent understanding of this delicate craft, allowing the humour to arise naturally rather than forcing it.
The result is a production filled with warmth, laughter and genuine audience participation.
Performance art has always possessed a remarkable ability to reimagine familiar stories.
It asks us to return to worlds we thought we already understood, only to discover something entirely new waiting beneath the surface.
The Big Bad Musical achieves exactly that.
It transforms childhood nostalgia into an evening of laughter, music and surprisingly thoughtful reflection. It reminds us that stories evolve, perspectives shift and reputations can always be challenged—even if, after hearing all the evidence, the verdict remains exactly the same.
The Wolf had his day in court.
He pleaded his case.
He blamed bad publicity.
He even claimed to be vegan.
But some evidence simply cannot be ignored.
He ate people.
He destroyed homes.
And after hearing every witness, every song and every argument, the jury—and ultimately the Judge—reached the only conclusion that felt right.
Bad.
As the curtain fell and the applause echoed through the beautiful Roodepoort Theatre, one thing became abundantly clear.
Justice had been served.
And theatre, once again, reminded us why live performance remains one of humanity's greatest art forms.
It invites us not merely to watch stories.
It invites us to become part of them.
Congratulations Timothy Le Roux and the whole team for a great show and a deserved standing ovation.
