The Lion King @ Liverpool Empire, until 5 Jul

This reviewer has a confession to make. Despite the hype, awards and stream of five-star reviews, The Lion King has never been a production at the top of my ‘must-see theatre’ list. Admittedly, Julie Taymor’s innovative use of both mask and puppetry has long held intrigue; and there is, of course, a certain amount of desire to engage in a spectacle that has captured the hearts of over 65 million audience members. But still, the Lyceum would have to wait.

It only took a UK tour and a vast international cast to wake me from my ignorant slumber – and an 11ft elephant brushing against my leg as it pushed its way down the aisle of the astonished stalls towards the Empire Theatre stage. The Lion King and his pride have infiltrated Liverpool – and they demand your attention. This is a production to savour.

The a cappella opening bars from Gugwana Dlamini (Rafiki) prompt a visceral reaction from an instantly captivated audience, as a pageant of wild animals cavort, canter and career their way onto the stage. The scene concludes in a kaleidoscopic tableau that verges on emotive, the collective voice of the ensemble resonating beyond the gallery. We are only five minutes in.

As with any production that defies the rubric and opens with its climax, The Lion King is not without its flaws: a lacklustre plot meanders to its familiar conclusion, the weaker songs are discernible among the show-stoppers, and the vocal strength of a certain principle is questionable. These, however, are small complaints in the context of Taymor’s vision. The puppetry is breathtaking: humans and animals mingle to create an aesthetic that is simply beautiful. "What is wrong with this picture?" Scar asks Zazu as he contemplates a devoid Pride Rock. Nothing, we say. Its broad and colourful brushstrokes are a wonder to behold.