‘The Magic Faraway Tree’ review: Charming Enid Blyton adaptation roots itself in childhood magic

Dir: Ben Gregor. UK. 2026. 110mins

Adapting Enid Blyton’s classic children’s fantasy was never going to be straightforward; while her series of four books set in the Enchanted Forest (published between 1939 and 1951) still delights, there is no doubt some of her attitudes are outdated and her tone can be regressive. That perhaps explains why this big screen iteration has been two decades in the making, but now screenwriter Simon Farnaby and director Ben Gregor bring the right blend of wide-eyed wonder, whimsical humour and a modern sensibility, keeping the heart of this beloved classic while gently moulding its story to better chime with a 21st century audience.

Visually faithful to the detailed descriptions in Blyton’s books

As a writer, Farnaby has previously done the same with his updates of Paddington and Wonka. The Magic Faraway Tree may not have the same broad international appeal of those properties, but it should provide cinematic catnip to families when it opens in the UK and Ireland on March 27 at the start of the Easter school holidays. The presence of a starry cast, including Claire Foy, Andrew Garfieldan d Nicola Coughlan may help in territories where Blyton’s work is not so much part of the shared cultural history – although it will undoubtedly strike the strongest nostalgic chord for those familiar with the novels.

A new backstory sees technical designer Polly (Foy) lose her corporate city job, and decide to move with husband Tom (Garfield) and kids Beth (Delilah Bennett-Cardy), Joe (Phoenix Laroche) and Fran (Billie Gadson) to the countryside. Tom is keen to pursue his dream of following in his late father’s footsteps by making and selling his own tomato sauce, and Polly is keen to support him. (She is also unwilling to ask her wealthy, disapproving mother – an add-on character beautifully played by Jennifer Saunders – for help.) The kids are less than impressed, particularly when they discover there is no WiFi in the dilapidated barn that is to be their home. But their parents are keen for them to throw themselves into outdoor life, away from the screens that they feel have been pushing them apart.

This nod to modern tech anxiety and the threat screens pose to ‘good old-fashioned family life’ is one way in which Farnaby and Gregor have updated this story. Another is to make the eldest sibling, Beth, an eye-rolling, dressed-in-black teenager who has no time for either her parents’ country dream or her younger sisters’ assertions that she has made friends with magical beings who live in a huge tree in the woods. While the character – and, indeed, the family dynamics at large – are drawn in broad, simple strokes, Beth’s cynicism does add a knowing counterpoint to this fantastical story, which, even away from the tree, presents an idyllic vision of rural England which has only ever existed in fairy stories.

Beth will, of course, come to learn that her sister’s new pals are very real, and stunning production design renders in glorious detail the gigantic tree and its endearing, newly diverse inhabitants – including friendly fairy Silky (Coughlan), tiny Angry Pixie (Hiran Abeysekera), half-deaf Saucepan Man (Dustin Demri-Burns), kindly Dame Washalot (Jessica Gunning) and patriarch Moon Face (Nonso Anozie). The same goes for the magical lands which rotate daily through the clouds at the top of the tree – the lavish Land Of Goodies will be particularly thrilling for younger viewers, and include some on-point cameos, including Mark Heap as a pitch-perfect Mr Oom Boom Boom, and Michael Palin and Lenny Henry as a pair of towering, egotistical Know Alls.

Visually, the creative team have remained entirely faithful to the detailed descriptions in Blyton’s books; many older viewers may feel that the visuals have been ripped from their own childhood imaginations. Unusually, there is not much in the way of peril, aside from Fran lingering too long over marshmallows in The Land Of Goodies and a late, brief appearance from the terrifying disciplinarian Dame Snap (a monsterously Machiavellian Rebecca Ferguson), who is easily and quickly bested.

That’s fitting, as Blyton’s Enchanted Wood books are not driven forward by danger, nor by the learning of any major life lessons, but about revelling in the magic of childhood play. While the addition of the wider family story does give this adaptation some dramatic impetus, it is at its strongest and most charming when it leans into its child-like magic, allowing viewers of all ages the freedom to explore the Faraway Tree to the strains of Florence And The Machine keyboardist Isabella Summers’ soaring, summery score.