Film is breaking out of its box, and this orchestral tour is showing the way

It's been 44 years since the animated version of The Snowman, originally an illustrated book by Raymond Briggs, appeared on our screens. But in the UK at least, people of every age group seem to know it, for a very good reason: it's been repeated on TV every Christmas since.

So far, it's never felt dated at all. Indeed, as we've grown from children into adults, many with children and grandchildren of our own, it somehow feels more and more relevant.

Even though it premiered on TV, the film has also developed a major theatrical presence through seasonal screenings. It's often paired as a double bill with its 2012 sequel, The Snowman and The Snowdog. But if you're not tempted to leave the sofa just to watch something that's already on telly, here's something that might motivate you.

Magical atmosphere

From 29 November to 22 December, Carrot Productions, which specialises in screenings with live orchestras, is taking The Snowman on a 32-performance tour of 14 venues, including the cathedrals of Liverpool, Durham, Guildford and Chester, with an orchestra playing the score live as it screens.

Rather than The Snowman and the Snowdog, this tour is sharing the bill with an episode of Shaun the Sheep called Fleece Navidad, newly adapted for an orchestra in the year of Aardman's 50th birthday.

I think the idea of watching a movie in a cathedral sounds magical, whether or not you're religious. But more importantly, I think it says something about where we are as a culture.

Not a binary

Somehow, we've fallen into the habit of thinking you can only watch movies in a dark cinema or on the sofa at home. Yet companies like Secret Cinema have shown that if you turn a screening of cult films like Back to the Future, Blade Runner and Alien into an interactive, theatrical event, audiences will pay good money to take part.

Their 2015 run of Empire Strikes Back, for instance, took place on a purpose-built set in an abandoned industrial facility in south-east London. Attendees were given fictional aliases, character types, and dress codes in advance; once they arrived, they had to dodge Imperial checkpoints, barter for goods, and interact with actors in places like Mos Eisley and the Cantina bar. I didn't go, but I wish I had; it sounds like a whole heap of fun.

A screening with a live orchestra is less full-on, but it still sounds like a great way to reignite your love of cinema if trudging to the local multiplex is no longer inspiring you.

Not that there's anything wrong with the multiplex, of course. I've had some brilliant nights in cinemas lately, from Pressure to Wildwood. And overall, they're doing well: the UK box office had its best year since COVID in 2025, taking £1.07 billion, though that's still around 21 per cent below pre-pandemic levels.

But when almost everything is available at home, many people need a better reason to put their coats on.

Natural fit

What makes The Snowman such a natural fit for live music is that there's no dialogue. So Howard Blake's score isn't mere accompaniment: it carries the whole story, and the animators synced their work to it. (It's no coincidence that the other screening stars a sheep who's not much of a talker either.)

To lift things further, young singers local to each area will perform Walking in the Air with the orchestra. And for the icing on the cake, every show ends in a massed singalong, with the words and British Sign Language signs on the big screen, demonstrated by Deaf trumpeter Sean Chandler. Audience members can sing, sign or do both.

There'll also be special performances for schools, a free show at Royal Manchester Children's Hospital, and dedicated SEND (Special Educational Needs and Disabilities) shows in Derby and Brighton.

A wider lesson

Here's another lesson I think this teaches us. We creatives tend to treat a project as "finished" once it's delivered. (Or perhaps even before, as those ".final.final.final" filenames betray.) But The Snowman suggests that work can keep growing long after that.

There's no need to reboot, reinvent or reimagine this 1982 classic. We just have to ask: what new places could it appear, and who else could be part of it?