One of Disney’s most successful stage adaptations, this tale as old as time casts its spell with confidence, polish, and theatrical flair.

Few animated films from Disney’s Renaissance era loom as large as Beauty and the Beast. With Alan Menken’s emotionally resonant score, richly drawn characters, and a story that balances fairytale fantasy with very human vulnerability, it’s no wonder the film has remained an evergreen favourite. Translating that alchemy to the stage is no small feat, but it’s one that the 1994 Broadway adaptation famously achieved, expanding the world with new songs and even greater characterisation. Now, fresh from an Australian tour, this production arrives in Singapore to honour that legacy while delivering a polished, crowd-pleasing experience that balances grandeur with intimacy.

The story, of course, is a familiar one: a selfish prince is cursed to live as a Beast until he learns to love and be loved in return; a bright, independent young woman trades her freedom to save her father; and an enchanted household clings to the hope that true love might yet break the spell. Under the direction of Matt West (who also choreographed the original Broadway production), Beauty and the Beast unfolds with clarity, confidence, and a deep understanding of its emotional stakes.

West’s assured hand is evident from the opening prologue, voiced by the legendary Angela Lansbury, which immediately establishes a sense of scale and wonder. The curse that befalls the Beast’s castle unfolds through striking illusion and stagecraft, setting a mythic tone before thrusting audiences into the familiar rhythms of Belle’s provincial life. That transition is handled beautifully in the opening number, “Belle,” as the ensemble bursts onto the stage with buoyant choreography and vivid character detail, painting a picture of a town that is bustling, close-knit, and quietly stifling for a young woman who longs for more.

At the heart of Beauty and the Beast is transformation of both body and perspective, and that idea extends deeply into the production’s world-building and design. Stanley A. Meyer’s scenic design is among the most ambitious seen at the Sands Theatre, and consistently delightful. Belle’s provincial town unfolds like a pop-up storybook, with an entire village emerging seamlessly from the wings, connected by a working bridge. Scene transitions are fluid and cinematic, aided by Darrel Maloney’s digital projections, which create a convincing sense of depth, from rolling countryside to looming castle gates, and even terrifying wolves depicted as giant shadows.

Once inside the Beast’s castle, Natasha Katz’s lighting design takes centre stage. She sculpts the space with shadow, plunging much of it into darkness while isolating key moments in pools of light. Massive, ornate set pieces descend from the fly bars and appear to hover midair, giving the impression of a castle suspended in enchanted limbo, waiting for the last petal to fall. The contrast between the warmth and colour of the town and the castle’s magnificent loneliness is sharply drawn, reinforcing the emotional geography of the story: a world frozen in fear and regret, gradually thawed by connection and care.

Under the baton of music director and conductor Luke Hunter, the orchestra provides a rich, sonorous foundation throughout. Menken’s familiar themes are woven deftly through the score, swelling when emotion demands it, receding when intimacy is required, and always in service of the drama unfolding onstage.

What ultimately anchors the production, however, is its cast. Shubshri Kandiah leads as Belle and once again proves herself a magnetic Disney heroine. Having previously appeared in Singapore as Jasmine in Aladdin, Kandiah brings a similar blend of independence and warmth to the role. She captures Belle’s isolation as the town’s odd bookworm while allowing her moral courage and curiosity to shine through. Over the course of the musical, her Belle softens in believable, affecting ways, culminating in a radiant performance of “A Change in Me,” where Kandiah’s voice soars with emotional clarity. Though not a dance-heavy role, she moves with ease and precision in ensemble numbers, proving herself a heroine to admire both vocally and physically.

Opposite her, Brendan Xavier (last seen here as Kristoff in Frozen) delivers a compelling, deeply felt turn as the Beast. Beneath the prosthetics and heavy makeup, Xavier conveys a young man wrestling with rage, shame, and the fear that he may already be beyond redemption. His natural charm is deliberately suppressed, emerging only in fleeting moments before being swallowed again by his monstrous curse. Those moments of regret, such as when the Beast recoils after raising his voice, are particularly telling, offering audiences an inroad into his emotional turmoil. Xavier’s Act I closer, “If I Can’t Love Her,” is a standout: sung with aching restraint that swells into desperation, staged with mist, isolation, and a vast night-sky backdrop that viscerally captures the Beast’s loneliness.

Together, Kandiah and Xavier share genuine onstage chemistry. “Something There” is played with tenderness and humour, charting the gradual softening of their guarded relationship as Belle reads King Arthur aloud and the Beast reacts with boyish delight. The shift from hostility to affection feels earned. By the time Mrs Potts sings the title song, the transformation is complete: framed by a proscenium of pink roses, Belle in her iconic yellow gown and the Beast in his velvet blue suit dance with a softness that is quietly devastating in its romance. You believe in their love, and you ache when the Beast lets Belle return to her father.

Beyond the leads, the musical proves notably generous in how it distributes its moments. The ensemble and supporting cast are given ample opportunity to shine, particularly in the large-scale numbers that fill the stage with movement, colour, and texture. The enchanted castle staff, in particular, are an endless delight. Rohan Browne’s Lumiere oozes charm, wielding his French accent and literal flames with equal flair, while Gareth Jacobs (last seen in Singapore as the Genie in Aladdin) is a wonderfully anxious Cogsworth, all nervous precision and clockwork fussiness. Jayde Westaby brings warmth and maternal gentleness to Mrs Potts, while Hayley Martin’s Babette flirts shamelessly with feathery glee. The surprise scene-stealer, however, is Alana Tranter as Madame, whose comic timing and overexcited matchmaking energy land every laugh, including a few blink-and-you’ll-miss-them adult jokes.

Ann Hould-Ward’s costumes complete this visual tapestry, working hand-in-hand with the performers’ physicality. While clearly inspired by the film’s French-inflected aesthetic, they are unapologetically theatrical and inventive. Cogsworth’s tailored clock-suit accentuates Jacobs’ stiff, wound-up movements; Lumiere’s golden costume allows Browne to flourish with expansive, showman-like gestures as real flames flicker from his sleeves; Madame is quite literally a Rococo wardrobe in motion, drawers and all. Babette’s feathered design evokes classic showgirl glamour, lending her movements a dancerly lightness that contrasts beautifully with the earthier, more naturalistic hues of the townsfolk’s costumes.

Their collective showcase is, of course, “Be Our Guest”, a jaw-dropping explosion of spectacle that remains the musical’s undeniable highlight. Drawing inspiration from classic Broadway and Hollywood revue traditions, the number fills the stage with towering plates, golden cutlery, and burlesque-inflected choreography, complete with ostrich-feather fans. Clever lighting expands the perceived dimensions of the stage, while a revolving floor and overhead camera reveal intricate ensemble formations worthy of a mid-show standing ovation, and the musical theatrical triumph of the year. Act II’s “Human Again” offers a tonal counterpoint, suffused with hope as the staff dream of reclaiming their humanity, underscored by graceful, ballet-inflected movement from the ensemble.

The townsfolk are equally well served. Mark Owen-Taylor plays Maurice as a lovable, slightly eccentric father, while Adam di Martino’s Le Fou leans into physical comedy with gusto. Jackson Head’s Gaston, however, is a standout, taking the character beyond a mere villainous himbo. With impeccable comic timing and a commanding voice, Head injects the role with bravado and a touch of manic self-regard, striking a fine balance between Jim Carrey-esque comedy and genuine menace. The number “Gaston” is staged with thrilling precision, as the entire ensemble moves in sync, clinking beer mugs atop the bar while Gaston performs one impossible feat of strength after another, enhanced by Jim Steinmeyer’s clever illusions.

There is never a dull moment throughout the musical, which shifts deftly in tone, from gothic unease during Belle’s initial captivity, to raucous ensemble numbers, to full-blooded romance. Even in its final stretch, the production continues to surprise. “The Mob Song” becomes a genuinely threatening moment, as villagers march toward the castle with flaming torches and pitchforks, creating a palpable sense of danger. The climactic confrontation between Gaston and the Beast crackles with tension and theatrical ingenuity, staged with cinematic flair as the two grapple in the rain, dramatically projected onto the scrim, culminating in Gaston’s fall.

As Belle tends to a dying Beast, even knowing the ending offers no comfort. Kandiah’s voice breaks into a sob, and for a brief moment, the production allows doubt to linger. The final transformation from Beast to man, still lands as a surprise, a testament to how carefully the moment is staged and earned. Watching the castle staff regain their human forms brings with it an unexpected sense of relief, as if a tension we didn’t realise we were holding is finally released. Their gathering for the final reprise forms a picture-perfect vision of happily ever after.

This tour of Beauty and the Beast does more than trade on nostalgia, and firmly reminds us why the story and stage production endures. It is emotionally generous without being cloying, visually imaginative without overwhelming its characters, and anchored by performances that make its central romance feel earned and alive, constantly and consistently engaging. As a piece of family theatre, it is exemplary; as a celebration of musical storytelling, it is deeply satisfying. Ranking among Disney’s strongest theatrical adaptations, Beauty and the Beast leaves you with renewed faith in the transformative power of love and the spellbinding magic of musical theatre at its best. A must-watch.

Photo Credit: Disney’s Beauty and the Beast – Daniel Boud

Beauty and the Beast: The Musical plays from 11th December 2025 to 18th January 2026 at the Sands Theatre at Marina Bay Sands. Tickets available here