Peppa Pig Live review

Not since Miss Piggy smacked Kermit in the face with her handbag, has a pig caused so much mayhem among the nation’s children.

The show uses some pretty impressive - and sizeable - puppets, with the puppeteers dressed in black melding seamlessly into the background after an initially odd and off-putting first few minutes of their appearance.

They’re all packing out the Opera House to see Peppa Pig and friends, and the merchandising mega-machine has clearly been working overtime. Kids are decked out in Peppa coats, wellies, umbrellas, you name it.

My little rascal, Daisy, has her Peppa Pig t-shirt on and wonders if she’ll be “too busy eating lunch” to make her 1pm showing. But she’s not.

The show uses some pretty impressive - and sizeable - puppets, with the puppeteers dressed in black melding seamlessly into the background after an initially odd and off-putting first few minutes of their appearance.

The hour-long story is also anchored by an actual human called Daisy. This sends my daughter into a near state of apoplexy, although she’s be hard pressed to match the energy of grown up Daisy, who bounces and skips her way through the show with the admirable aplomb of a childrens’ TV presenter who’s had too much undiluted blackcurrant cordial.

Maybe she’s been eating the same sweets as the two boys sat behind me who seem clinically unable to sit down and insist on jumping on the back of my chair FOR A FULL HALF AN HOUR.

The premise of the show is thus; it’s Peppa’s birthday, and Daddy Pig, a self-proclaimed expert in all things, wants to take Peppa and her friends on a nature trail while Mummy Pig stays at home and makes the birthday cake.

There’s a song every ten minutes or so, some of which involves words that don’t even exist but gets all the kids up dancing, jumping and twirling. One little girl in front of me nearly fell over after some excessive twirling and had to be calmed down with a half-time ice cream.

Some impressive sets are wheeled out, including Peppa’s house and a steam train. Highlights (according to the three-year-old Daisy) were the bit where Daisy got a cake in the face and George started crying and the first two rows got covered in water from the jets in the puppet’s eyes.

It’s all good fun, and as we fight our way out past the endless merchandising, my little one took time to reflect. “I loved that,” she said. “But who was that man who kept standing behind her?”