The spirit and charm of Studio Ghibli is well-evoked in this creative and moving adaptation of the 1988 film.

This production, now at the Gillian Lynne Theatre following a packed-out run at the Barbican, is full of cute surprises, larger than life characters and dazzling effects that all combine to present the whimsy and emotional impact of the much-loved film. It follows the lives of Satsuki and Mei, two young sisters who find themselves moved out of their Tokyo home and into the remote Japanese countryside with their father in order to be closer to their hospital-bound mother. As the pair get to grips with their new environment, they soon find themselves seemingly under the protection of Totoro, an enormous, furry spirit who helps the sisters to navigate their changing world.

Victoria Chen’s Mei, four years old in the play but here played by an adult, is relentless in her excitement and energy, even in some of the piece’s darker and deeper moments. Chen’s loud portrayal does capture Mei from the film well, though the problem with funnelling such intense subject matter at times through such a young character is that the yelling and stomping can be a little repetitive. Nevertheless, Chen’s portrayal of Mei’s vulnerability in the play’s conclusion, as well as her wonder at seeing the enormous Totoro, works well.

Alongside Chen, Ami Okumura Jones’ Satsuki is wiser than her years, and does provide a good contrast to Mei’s energy. Okumura Jones blends well Satsuki’s character, bordering on the maturity of secondary school, successfully with her childlike excitement upon meeting Totoro, and this makes Satsuki’s journey a more interesting one as the play progresses.

It is a production that is probably more impactful to those who have seen the film than those who have not, yet nevertheless, the production blends large sets and enormous puppets, to great effect here. The sheer scale of Totoro is particularly mesmerising, though to get Totoro on and off stage does require some momentum-breaking shifting, but it is impossible not to be awed upon first seeing him, especially when moving across the stage.

The creativity does not stop there either. My Neighbour Totoro is boosted by a talented and large ensemble cast who not only create the rural countryside and its kindness well, but who are also used to puppet other animals, such as chickens, to the smaller susuwatari house-spirits too. Coupled with the enormous and bright ‘Catbus’, the play quickly becomes a visual feast, which makes up for the slow script that adds almost an hour to the film’s original runtime.

Through expansive design, larger-than-life characterisation and a gorgeous inclusion of original songs, sung in both English and Japanese, My Neighbour Totoro is a dazzling spectacle. While the ending itself is a little rushed, the charm levels and emotional outpouring it reaches leave a moving final impression.