This adaptation of the traditional Hans Christian Andersen story features 'stunning staging'

"Even by fairy-tale standards, Hans Christian Andersen's story of puritanical morality, repression and dismemberment stands out as especially bleak," said Dave Fargnoli in The Stage. 

"The Red Shoes" (1845) is about an orphan girl who is bewitched by a pair of red shoes, and condemned to dance in them uncontrollably – unto death. It's not obvious fare for a festive family outing to the theatre. On the plus side, Nancy Harris's retelling "smooths off some sharp edges, excavating a kinder message about empowerment and self-expression" that will likely resonate with young audiences; there are wonderful passages of balletic dance; and the sets and costumes are gorgeous. But the stunning staging rather overwhelms the "slight, familiar story", leaving a production that is never wholly satisfying. 

It's not a "joy to the world" Christmas treat, said Michael Davies on What's on Stage, but as "well-made, magical theatre, 'The Red Shoes' barely puts a foot wrong". While drawing on the original story for its darkness, this production borrows from the backdrop of the 1948 Powell and Pressburger film "for its dance themes". Indeed, it's "shot through with ballet-infused contemporary dance, even to the point of starring ballerina Nikki Cheung" as the young orphan. The storytelling is a bit confusing in parts, but the production is pacy enough, and is blessed with a rich design and an "enchanting score" by Marc Teitler. That said, its gruesome elements would make it seem ill-suited to children, though the production is recommended to anyone over seven, with parents advised to use their own discretion for under-12s. 

But if it's not for children, then who is it for, asked Arifa Akbar in The Guardian. Although it seems to aim for crossover appeal, the script isn't "clever or enchanting enough" for grown-ups. And though it promises to bring an old story into the 21st century, Harris's version mainly "upholds the old morality". Where the production – slickly directed and choreographed by Kimberley Rampersad – does excel is in the movement; Cheung's dancing is "hypnotic".

by Paul French 

In the mid-1920s, Wallis Simpson spent a year in China. She went there "hoping to make a fresh start" after the breakdown of her first marriage to a "heavy-drinking" US naval officer who was stationed in Hong Kong, said Caroline Moorehead in The Spectator. A decade later, when Britain was tipped into constitutional crisis by the American divorcée's relationship with Edward VIII, her "lotus year", as she called it, became the subject of lurid gossip. It was rumoured that in China, Simpson had been addicted to opium, posed for pornographic photos, and learnt a sexual technique – the Shanghai grip – which had "infatuated the king". All this was said to have been detailed in a "China Dossier" compiled by British intelligence.

In his new book, the Shanghai-based historian Paul French provides a more sober take on her travels. She had no "louche adventures" in China – just a few "respectable" affairs – and the dossier never existed. "Her Lotus Year" therefore lacks raciness, but is "delightful to read", thanks to French's detailed "knowledge of the place and period".

Simpson's visit began in Shanghai, where a friend "introduced her to the city's wealthiest circles", said Rachel Cooke in The Observer. She shopped, played poker and attended "tea dances". She then travelled north to Peking, and spent the rest of the year living on the compound of a wealthy American couple while conducting an affair with an Italian gunboat commander. Her grasp of the language was limited – "Boy, pass the champagne" was a phrase she did master – but she was as "embedded in Peking life as a foreigner could be". This is a well researched book, but you can't avoid regretting that the realities of Simpson's life in the East are "less interesting than the myths".

On the contrary, said Thessaly La Force in The New York Times, it seemed to me that French's "beautifully" written book contains "a more interesting story" than the one previously told. And it helps to answer a puzzling question, which is how a fairly ordinary-looking woman inspired such passion in Edward VIII that he was willing to "renounce his hereditary claim to the world's largest empire" in order to marry her. French suggests that in China, Simpson learnt to support herself financially, possibly by acting as a courier for US intelligence. This, he speculates, inculcated in her an "independent spirit" that proved irresistible to a man "burdened by the tedium of royal duties".

Actor with an unswerving commitment to British theatre

In his autobiography, Timothy West, who has died aged 90, quoted Richard Strauss's description of himself as a "first-rate composer of the second rank", and concluded that he belonged in the second rank of actors. His argument was that most of the major roles he'd played – Falstaff, Lear and so on – had been in regional and touring theatres. But he was being too modest, said Michael Billington in The Guardian. West had an outstanding 65-year career that embraced theatre, TV, film and radio. With a sturdy frame, narrow eyes and a strong jaw, he was often cast as villains and had a talent for playing historical figures, but his greatest achievement lay in his commitment to regional and touring theatre; as both an actor and director, said The Telegraph, he did much to assist in their postwar revival.

West was convinced of theatre's potential to transform society. He had grown up watching his father – Lockwood West – acting in regional theatre. His mother, Olive, was also an actress, and both his parents urged him to avoid the stage. But aged 22, after a stint as a salesman, he found a job as an assistant manager at Wimbledon Theatre. He then worked in rep, before making his West End debut in 1959. In the 1960s, he spent a few years with Peter Hall's RSC before joining the likes of Ian McKellen at the Prospect company. In 1975, he toured the world with Trevor Nunn's "Hedda Gabler", starring Glenda Jackson. He ran the Forum Theatre in Billingham, the Gardner Centre in Brighton and, in 1980, became artistic director at The Old Vic.

On TV, he took the title role in "Edward the Seventh" (1975), and starred in the comedy "Brass"; but latterly he had become known for the series "Great Canal Journeys", in which he and his wife, the actress Prunella Scales, toured the waterways they loved, sometimes joined by Juliet, his daughter by his first wife, and Joseph and Sam, his sons with Scales. She had been diagnosed with dementia, said The Times. They spoke publicly and "touchingly about how they faced the condition together", and on their journeys, West's love for his wife of 60 years was "evident in the patience he showed" as she struggled with cognition.