The Sleeping Beauty has awoken — and so, gloriously, has the Arts Theatre Cambridge. After ten months of closure, our much-loved playhouse has reopened its doors, its slumber broken by the generosity of Lord and Lady Sainsbury’s charitable foundations and their multi-million-pound award. Last night, as the lights rose and the curtains parted, the city was invited to explore a newly refurbished, unexpectedly elegant auditorium.

Now wrapped in warm maple panelling, the space glows more invitingly than ever. The old theatre boxes have vanished, replaced by sweeping galleries and seats that are not only smarter but blessedly more comfortable. Backstage, too, the improvements are significant; even from the auditorium it is clear that the lighting capabilities have leapt forward. But while the makeover is impressive, we were, of course, gathered for the press night of the annual pantomime — this year’s Sleeping Beauty.

As we have come to expect, it was a riot of colour, pace, silliness and sheer performance craftsmanship. Matt Crosby, returning for his twentieth year as Cambridge’s definitive Panto Dame, shows not the slightest sign of slowing. His Nanny Nutkins is monstrous yet endearing, clad in costumes of escalating outrageousness, and armed with the bluest grown-up jokes permissible before the watershed. He is matched with gusto by Steven Roberts as that perennial crowd-pleaser “Happy Harry”, the children’s comic hero. Their rapport crackles, especially in the traditional messy scene — a slip-sliding, nappy-chute farce played with expert timing. The children roared; so did many adults — and at least one seasoned critic.

Tricia Adele-Turner as the wicked fairy, plus Ensemble

Tricia Adele-Turner gives a deliciously wicked turn as Carabosse, the evil fairy whose malicious needle sets the plot spinning. She balances menace and humour with style and brings a fine singing voice to the role. Her target is Princess Rose, doomed to a century of enchanted sleep — unless a hero can be found. Joseph Hewlett fits the bill handsomely as Prince Ken, looking and sounding every inch the fairytale rescuer, while Daisy Twells lends Princess Rose both vocal power and graceful presence.

Matt Harrop is an exuberant King of Trumpington, and Tanisha Butterfield charms children and grown-ups alike as the good fairy Strawberry, her rhyming commentaries landing with warmth and wit. An energetic ensemble, perpetually changing costumes, supplies the show’s pulse of dancing and singing.

Chris Jarvis’s script is packed with double entendres — some decidedly close to the knuckle. “Try explaining that one when you get home,” warns the Dame after one particularly suggestive moment. But the show also revels in groan-worthy gags, playful local references, and a terrific G&S-style patter number in which Harry rattles off Cambridgeshire place names at ever-accelerating speed. Contemporary nods to TV culture, social-media slang and Cambridge landmarks (including Sleeping Beauty’s hiding place in the Botanic Garden) give the evening a pleasingly local flavour.

Daisy Twells as Princess Rose and Joseph Hewlett as Prince Ken

The set and lighting design deserve special praise. Ian Westbrook and Mike Robinson have created stage pictures of real beauty — rich in colour, depth and fairytale magic. One coup de théâtre, involving Carabosse’s transformation, drew genuine gasps. To say more would be unfair: discover it yourself.

Choreographer Kevan Allen and director Michael Gattrell keep the production vibrant, pacy and cohesive, while the band, led by Dean McDermott, delivers the score with spirit.

Sleeping Beauty earns double applause: first, for being a joyous, traditional panto full of energy, colour and heart; and second, for inaugurating the reborn Arts Theatre with such style. After a long sleep, Cambridge’s own Sleeping Beauty has opened her eyes at last.