Or was it a pop punk party? It doesn’t matter – it was pure fun heavy with the scent of saltwater, hairspray, and pure, unadulterated rebellion! After years of Fringe success and regional tours, the “plus-size icon” and “diva of the deep” herself has finally come home.
Unfortunate: The Untold Story of Ursula the Sea Witch has officially landed its tentacles back in London, and let’s just say, the Sea Witch has finally got the boat she deserves. Having tracked this show from its scrappy beginnings to this sleek, neon-soaked transfer, one thing is abundantly clear: this isn’t just a parody; it’s a takeover.
This latest “de-fin-itive” production is a testament to the power of the “villain” narrative in the 21st century. Unfortunate pulls a riptide on the Disney narrative, offering a “not-safe-for-Mickey” alternative that is as heartfelt as it is filthy. For those of us who grew up with the 1989 classic, tonight was a shipwreck of childhood innocence in the best possible way. The Other Palace, with its intimate but technically capable Main House, proved the perfect vessel for this high-camp, high-octane extravaganza.
The Story: Misunderstood or Just Framed?
Forget the sanitized, clamshell-clad version of history you were fed in 1989. Unfortunate doesn’t just tell Ursula’s side of the story; it tears the original apart and uses the pieces to build a much more interesting, albeit much filthier, reality.
The first half is a glorious romp through “Atlantica High,” where we learn that Ursula and Triton weren’t just rivals – they were a “will-they-won’t-they” pair of lost souls with matching haircuts. The emotional weight of the show hinges on Triton’s betrayal, framed by his father, the tyrannical King Poseidon, in a plot involving the “unfortunate” dissection of a sea cucumber princess named Kirsty.
By the time we hit the interval, the narrative has shifted gears to meet the familiar timeline of The Little Mermaid. But Ariel is no longer the wide-eyed heroine; she is a vapid, “basic bitch” who thinks Einstein is a kind of fish and whose primary goal in life is to find where the “dicks are.” It also doesn’t end to well for Flounder.
The true genius of the book by Robyn Grant and Daniel Foxx is how it reframes Ursula’s contract-signing as a moment of harsh but necessary mentorship. She isn’t trying to steal a soul; she’s trying to teach a spoiled brat that a man isn’t a personality trait.
The ending – defiant, queer, and unashamed – provides the closure that 30 years of “happily ever after” never quite managed to provide for the outcasts among us.
The Music: Earworms and Composer Bingo
Tim Gilvin’s score is “poppy, preppy,” and purposefully excessive. Listening to the 2026 re-orchestration, it is impossible not to play a game of “composer bingo.”
You can hear the soaring anthems of Stephen_Schwartz, the gritty rock of Hamilton, and the operatic drama of Les Misérables, all while remaining firmly rooted in a pastiche of Alan Menken’s iconic orchestral sound.
The new Act One addition, “Another Day,” is a real success, providing that classic Disney “I Want” song structure while winking at the audience with every breath.
But the showstoppers remain the same: “Where the Dicks Are” had the audience in actual tears of laughter, and “Suckin’ On You” showcased the incredible chemistry between Sam Buttery and Blair Robertson.
The sound design was remarkably crisp, a marked improvement from what I had heard about earlier touring versions where the band would occasionally turn the vocals into an “inaudible mush.”
Tonight, every f-bomb and every witty pun landed with the precision of a trident strike.
The Staging: Wooden Tentacles and Flying Queens
Jasmine Swan’s set design for the 2026 run is a perfect “happy medium.” It avoids the make-shift cheapness of the original Fringe production while resisting the urge to become so splashy that it loses its cabaret heart. The ship-deck upper level houses the band, creating a dynamic vertical energy that reflects the hierarchy of the sea itself.
Below, Ursula’s lair is a dark, inky cave filled with “wooden tentacle embellishments” and peep holes that make you feel like a voyeur in the best possible way.
The puppetry remains the soul of the production. From the simple sock-puppet antics used for quick gags to the massive, multi-operator sea creatures, the imagination on display is simply stunning.
Movement director Laura Cubitt ensures that you forget these are pieces of foam and fabric; they feel alive, particularly during the “We Didn’t Make It To Disney” number. Ursula‘s outfits perfectly capture the character’s drag-inspired heritage, honoring the legacy of Divine while adding a contemporary glitter-bomb edge.
A personal favorite of mine was the graveyard of villain characters including Jafar and Mufasa, as well as Bambi‘s Mom, who did not get enough screen time.
Critical Reception: Triumphant and Unapologetic
The consensus among the London crowd tonight was electric. Unfortunate has truly solidified itself as a “splash-hit.”
While some critics from earlier runs noted that the origin story was “overstuffed,” this refined 2026 version feels leaner and more focused. The energy of the cast never wavers, and the “vampish squid” at the center of it all commands the stage with absolute authority. Sam Buttery is sensational, bringing a vulnerability to Ursula that makes her “bad bitch” persona feel entirely earned.
Julie Yammanee is a comedic revelation as Ariel, and … well, Allie Dart is a category of one. Watching her switch between a thick Irish accent as Sebastian and a haughty French tone as Colette is a masterclass in versatility. The show is “wickedly camp” and “hilariously naughty,” as noted by The Stage, but beneath the sex jokes and the “erect statues,” there is a quivering underbelly of sincerity.
It is a show about self-acceptance in a world that values beauty over substance, and the importance of “owning your voice.” It isn’t just a parody; it’s a reclamation of queer history and body positivity.
Summary: Take the Plunge
If you are looking for a “cosy reunion with a childhood tale,” stay home and watch the DVD. But if you want a night of “sass, scandal, and suckers” that will leave you “aching from booming villainous laughter,” then get your tentacles on tickets for Unfortunate immediately.
It is “unapologetically camp,” “wonderfully rude,” and a very entertaining middle finger to the sanitized narratives of our youth. London theatre is at its best when it’s this bold, this bonkers, and this purple. It’s an oceanic treat that you can’t just dip your toe into – you need to dive headlong into the ink.
StageAficionado 