The Ontario Theatre Review: Disney’s Frozen at the Grand Theatre, London

By Ross

There is a particular kind of magic in seeing Disney’s Frozen in the theatre, one that depends as much on who you bring as on the spectacle onstage. When I first saw this musical on Broadway in 2018, it was with my young niece Hazel, who watched the St. James Theatre curtain shimmer with their version of the Northern Lights as if the world might disappear if she blinked. That night, the show’s blend of enchantment and sentiment landed differently for me because I was watching it through her wide, breathless eyes. Walking into London, Ontario’s Grand Theatre for this new production, I found myself wondering what it would be like, and wishing she were sitting beside me again, much like all the other small children I saw dressed in blue satin and glittering tulle, ready to engage with a story they already knew by heart and loved with all their souls.

To my delight, Disney’s Frozen at the Grand Theatre, directed by Rachel Peake (Grand’s The Sound of Music), delivers something warmer and more satisfying than I expected. The show remains what it has always been, a serviceable but never transcendent musical adaptation of Disney’s megahit. Still, this company of actors and creatives elevates it with sincerity, vocal power, and strong theatrical instincts. Cory Sincennes’ set and costume designs can’t hope to match Broadway’s expansive visual world, but the creative team finds their own kind of wonder in resourcefulness. The projections, the icy transitions, and especially the beautifully rendered Sven feel purposeful rather than simplified. Where the original production sometimes strained for spectacle, this one seems more at ease, content to enchant rather than overwhelm.

The performances are what truly make this Frozen worth the visit. Kelly Holiff (Stratford’s Wrinkle In Time) as Elsa and Chariz Faulmino (Citadel’s Prison Dancer) as Anna anchor the show with spectacular voices and an honest connection that cuts through the fairy-tale frost. Faulmino brings a winning blend of goofiness and earnestness that is completely infectious, while Holiff lands Elsa’s emotional isolation without ever turning her cold. Both have voices that soar, effectively captivating the audience with their power and control. Their younger counterparts (Young Anna: Harmony Holder/Oakan Oyafuso; Young Elsa: Kylie Prouty/Alba Evora Weiler) play their early scenes with charm and confidence, setting a strong emotional foundation for the sisters’ later separation.

Mark Sinongco (Uniform/SATCo’s Ride the Cyclone) as Kristoff is especially endearing, boyish, warm, and immediately believable as someone Anna might trust with all her heart. If Aran Wilson-McAnally’s Hans feels more functional than compelling, it’s not for lack of commitment; the part is written thinly, and this production doesn’t quite overcome that limitation. Wilson-McAnally does find his way through to carry the charm across, right up until the flip, as does Lee Siegel (Stratford’s Rent), who steals every moment he’s given as Oaken, turning what could be a throwaway comic beat into a full-on crowd-pleaser, complete with a hilariously exuberant song-and-dance moment with his improbably cheery family.

As for the world of Arendelle itself, fans of the film will be relieved, and perhaps thrilled, to know that the beloved songs, written by Kristen Anderson-Lopez & Robert Lopez (‘Coco‘), with a book by Jennifer Lee, are in excellent hands. Under Alexandra Kane’s music direction, the ensemble delivers rich harmonies, and the leading numbers (“Do You Want to Build a Snowman?”, “Let It Go”, “Monster”) are impressively sung without ever tipping into vocal showboating. Izad Etemadi (Grand’s The Play That Goes Wrong) brings a buoyant charm to Olaf, while Vance Avery’s Grand Pabbie and Richard Lee Hsi’s terrific physical work as Sven give the second act a welcome jolt of theatrical whimsy. I admit I missed the towering presence of Timothy Hughes as Pabbie, the Troll King; a personal tie forged during my Broadway trip with Hazel, but the Grand’s interpretation of the trolls, including Tahirih Vejdani (Stratford’s Elektra) as Bulda, is appealing in its own right.

And still, watching this story again, I was struck by something I’ve heard echoed in story after story over the years: Elsa’s journey, with its fear, suppression, and eventual self-revelation, echoes deeply with many queer coming-of-age narratives. The parallels are undeniable and moving: the longing for escape, the discovery of spaces where one’s full self can finally breathe. Yet the musical preserves one of the film’s lingering tensions: Elsa gains liberation but not companionship. Her arc ends not with romantic possibility but with a kind of regal solitude, observing intimacy from just outside its borders while her “more normal” sister steps easily into partnership. It’s a resonant metaphor, but one whose implications linger uneasily in the margins.

If Disney’s Frozen still falls short of the visionary theatrical reinvention that The Lion King achieved decades ago, that’s less the fault of this production and more a limitation of the material itself. The show rarely surprises, narratively or visually, preferring fidelity to the film over artistic expansion. But perhaps that’s part of its enduring appeal. Watching families discover moments of stage magic: Elsa’s transformation, Olaf’s charm, the immense swell of “Let It Go” reminded me of Hazel tugging my sleeve in 2018, whispering, “Don’t blink!” as if the lights and magic of the show might escape her. The Grand Theatre can’t transport me back to that exact moment, but it offered me something close: a room full of children who were seeing theatre as a living, breathing miracle, and responding in delight.

In the end, this production of Disney’s Frozen is exactly what it needs to be: heartfelt, polished, beautifully performed, and generous in spirit. It never reaches for icy grandeur it can’t sustain, and in that restraint finds a genuine warmth. I walked in expecting a lighter, scaled-down version of a show I once found merely adequate. I walked out unexpectedly moved, and very grateful for the performances, the craftsmanship, and the reminder that sometimes theatre doesn’t have to astonish to be utterly enchanting. And yes: Hazel would have loved it.