Review: Disney’s The Lion King at Toronto’s Princess of Wales Theatre August 16th, 2025 7:30pm performance

[that.leah]

Posted: 8/18/25 at 8:14am

Introduction
Disney’s The Lion King has been a landmark in Toronto’s theatre history ever since its original sit-down production opened at the Princess of Wales Theatre in 2000. Now, nearly twenty-five years later, the show has returned to the same stage for a limited revival — one that will close on August 30, 2025, after 345 performances and more than 250,000 audience members. With the finish line in sight, it feels like the right moment to reflect honestly on this production: what soars, what falls short, and what this iconic show reveals about Toronto’s current theatre culture.

Orchestra & Sound
The musical forces were technically polished but ultimately unsatisfying for ears accustomed to the depth of a Puccinian orchestra. The pit, hidden behind netting, contained keyboards, multi-instrumental stations, and percussion split into side boxes, all blended by amplification into a carefully controlled sound design. The result was smooth and consistent but lacking in visceral impact. Percussion that should have shaken the chest was flattened by compression; strings and choirs emerged from keyboards rather than live players. Instead of sound moving through the hall itself, we heard a reinforced soundtrack — serviceable for Broadway polish, but anemic beside the living weight of a lyrical ensemble.

Voices & Singing
The score relies heavily on ensemble chant, harmonies, and call-and-response, yet the impact was underwhelming. The chorus felt thin, especially the women, whose harmonies were sung with a dainty prettiness that lacked weight. Only one ensemble singer with a brief Act II solo cut through with genuine vocal presence.

Among the principals, Camille Eanga-Selenge (Nala) offered touching characterization and moments of beautiful belt-mix resonance, but too often softened her phrase endings, which diminished authority. Zama Magudulela’s Rafiki carried thrilling top notes but showed instability in the low register, relying on stylistic tricks rather than effortless charisma.

The male singers were stronger. From the opening, the male ensemble sang with fuller resonance, anchored by breath and chest vibration, in contrast to the lighter women’s sound. The imbalance revealed a probable oversight in musical direction.

The child performers contrasted sharply: Ira Nabong (young Simba) was underpowered vocally, his big number nearly inaudible, while Nendia Lewars (young Nala) proved a revelation — a true triple threat whose natural charisma and artistry far exceeded expectations.

Among the adult men, Salvatore Antonio’s Scar was seasoned and assured, Mufasa warmly paternal, and Pumbaa a serviceable comic sidekick. But Aphiwe Nyezi’s Simba was the greatest disappointment: vocally fragmented, lacking conviction, and dramatically forgettable in a role that demands heroic charisma.

By contrast, two world-class standouts elevated the evening: Will Jeffs (Zazu) and Brian Sills (Timon). Both displayed timing, wit, charisma, and vocal authority of a calibre that would enhance any company. Without their contributions — and the committed work of the hyena trio, particularly Simon Gallant’s magnetic Ed — the production would have sagged into flatness.

Theatre Experience
The Princess of Wales Theatre itself was surprisingly underwhelming. Bare balconies and walls offered little atmosphere, and food was permitted inside — even popcorn. Having once worked as an usher at the Elgin and Winter Garden Theatre Centre, a National Historic Site just blocks away, the contrast was stark. There, standards preserved dignity and atmosphere; here, the evening felt more like passing through a transit hub.

The Audience
The crowd was eager but strangely muted. Applause cues were often missed, leaving the room oddly subdued — until the curtain call, when the audience leapt to a standing ovation. It felt unearned, symptomatic of a “participation trophy” culture. As a performer, I respect the craft of every individual on stage, but competence is not the same as the spark of intention that makes a performance unforgettable. That spark was missing.

Conclusion
The Lion King remains a marvel of stagecraft. The timing, rhythm, lighting, sets, costumes, and puppetry are world-class, and by contrast, opera could desperately learn from this kind of imaginative discipline. But musically, the production lacked vitality: a pit without resonance, several principals who failed to ignite, and an audience culture that felt hollow.

Disney musicals are, at their core, corporate entertainments designed to be uniform from one city to the next. There is no comparison between mic’d voices layered over a processed pit band and the visceral electricity of unamplified singers belting over a full orchestra — as in opera, or in the great American musicals of the past. Those works carried danger and unrepeatable energy. This production, though slick and consistent, felt safe and predictable.

Perhaps the most devastating truth came from my husband and son, who had already seen The Lion King in Germany. When asked how they liked the Toronto performance, they simply replied: “I’ve seen it already.” That, sadly, tells you everything you need to know.