Ever since Judy started knocking seven bells out of Punch, puppets have never been particularly well behaved.
Then, in the early 2000s, things took a sharp turn for the ribald. While Team America gave us a bullet/expletive-spraying riff on the Gerry Anderson shows of old, Sesame Street was given an x-rated makeover off (and then on) Broadway, courtesy of all-singing, all-swearing musical Avenue Q. Puppetry could do whatever the hell it wanted, no strings attached. People went gaga for it.
On its return to the West End after over 15 years away, you could almost give the three-time Tony Award-winning musical a welcome back squeeze. The story — in which college graduate Princeton moves into the neighbourhood, meets new friends and seeks out his purpose in life (no thanks to Iago-like twosome the Bad Idea Bears) — has been seasoned with one or two fresh AI gags, but remains largely untweaked.
It’s a nice narrative, a paean to the daily grind and gnawing self-doubt. But the overriding joy in Avenue Q was always its litany of rambunctiously racy numbers (plus the occasional Jim Henson-meets-OnlyFans bonking scene), as played out by a pool of puppeteers so talented, everything from the leads to a stack of harmonising cardboard boxes are made not just believable, but downright loveable.
What strikes you watching this now, is not how naughty it all is, but how soft and cuddly. Back in the day, songs like The Internet is for Porn and If You Were Gay would’ve prompted disbelieving gasps; murmurs of “Can you even say that?”. Society’s been through the wringer since then. This is a world in which the President of the United States drops f-bombs (along with actual bombs) left, right and centre. In 2026, parts of Avenue Q feel decidedly quaint.
None of this ultimately undermines a comically pristine show which puts the ‘heart’, and indeed the ‘felt’, in ‘heartfelt’. In a time when our senses have been blunted to shock, Avenue Q is a warm, fuzzy hug. Even those rapscallion Bad Idea Bears get their happy ending — not, mind you, that they deserve it.
Avenue Q, Shaftesbury Theatre, until 29 August.
