THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
After two false starts, the first caused by Covid and then, infamously, being 'cancelled' by certain quarters at The Old Vic, Terry Gilliam's much awaited production of Sondheim's Into the Woods finally makes it to the stage at the Theatre Royal Bath. It's been worth the wait.
Stephen Sondheim, who passed earlier this year, had given the production concept his blessing and, when you think about it, who is better match for this material than Gilliam, a creative genius in animation, film and lately, opera, whose rich visual imagination can run riot with the various Grimm Fairy Tales on which this musical is based?
The story imagines an upside down fairy tale world where a baker and his wife must find four magical items to reverse a Witch's curse that has left them childless. Along the way they meet Little Red Riding Hood, Rapunzel, Cinderella, two charming Princes, and Jack in the beanstalk.
Gilliam and co-director/choreographer Leah Hausman have the story unfold through the eyes of a young girl seen playing with her Victorian Toy Theatre, and indeed this exquisite playhouse brings its own magic to bear, which is perfectly exploited in Jon Bausor's toy theatre sets.
There are some wonderful flights of fantasy such as the little girl's tin of Heinz beans emerging, with a tin of garden peas on top, as Rapunzel's tower. There are giant pocket watches and flower vases and in Act 2 when the Giantess stomps in to avenge her husband's killing, we see only two enormous doll's feet. Jack's beloved cow, Milky White (Faith Prendergast), who is central to the plot, is the most expressive I've seen. Bausor's toy sets are fleet and subtly rendered, especially the forest, and enhanced by Anthony McDonald's costumes which gives it all a visual style that manages to be both eloquent and playful.
Gilliam merges the roles of the Narrator and the Mysterious Man and has the inspired idea to get Julian Bleach to play him in the character of his famous creation from Shockheaded Peter. Bleach's droll creepiness and 'House of Hammer' tone is a perfect fit.
The genius of Lapine's book is how he uses classic fairy tales to explore themes about parents and children, the individual's responsibility to the community, the road to hell being paved with good intentions and the downside of getting your wishes fulfilled, and all with a sardonic wit set to some of Sondheim's most eloquent and complex tunes. There are quartets and quintets here which would stretch any opera cast.
As well as having the necessary vocal chops, the cast for this need great comic timing and Gilliam's got it here especially with Alex Young as the Baker's Wife. Rhashan Stone, too, gives the Baker just the right mix of sweetness and befuddlement. Veteran Gillian Bevan is delightfully gruff as Jack's Mother and the, too often underrated West End performer, Nicola Hughes has the star presence needed for the Witch. Lauren Conroy gives us a Glaswegian Little Red Riding Hood, who you wouldn't mess with even before she's pulled a knife, and Henry Jenkinson is a comic delight as Cinderella's Prince ("I was raised to be charming not sincere"). As he launches into his big number 'Agony' he suddenly startles an Attendant Hare, raising a big laugh. This jauntily cavalier take, potentially jettisoning a big song, typifies Gilliam and Hausman's approach, which is loving but irreverent, and they always get it right.
It is to be hoped that this production has a life well beyond Bath.
