Into the Woods review – The Brothers Grimm exquisitely mashed up by Sondheim | stage

CDoes the always imaginative Brothers Grimm mash-up of Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine disappoint, when his book is so clever and driven by the most wonderful (if difficult) music? Jordan Finn’s production sparkles and sparkles with all the humor and pathos of these wayward fairytale characters having a misadventure in the woods, their rearranged stories wrapping around each other.

The show starts with brisk efficiency, racing along with some early songs, but it packs in the emotion and there’s raunchy enjoyment. The witch’s curse on the Baker (Jimmy Parker) and his wife (Katie Brayben) for the sins of his father can only be broken if they bring her Cinderella’s shoes, Rapunzel’s golden hair, Little Red Riding Hood’s coat, and Jack’s cherished milk-white cow (the Beanstalk).

Guided in part by Carl Jung’s concept of the collective unconscious, things get messy after the “happily ever after” of the first act, and this production strikes the right balance between cynicism and emotional darkness as the remorse, blame and betrayal begin. The witch is a typical case of Young’s “devouring mother” who stunts Rapunzel’s growth by locking her away. The marriage of princes has become outdated and fatherhood is difficult for the baker. Other parents die and the children must carry on without them, such as Red Ridinghood (Gracie McGonigal) and Jack (Joe Foster).

The cast brings charming baggage: Jack is very feminine, the Red Ridinghood looks like a spunky girl’s mentor, the Wolf (Oliver Saville) is a hackneyed version of David Niven, it seems, and the Witch (Kate Fleetwood) is comically evil and wronged. The baker and his wife’s struggle to conceive is emotionally laden. After she marries the prince, Cinderella (Chomissa Durnford-May) longs for the good old days when she could simply go into the woods and talk to the birds.

The actors give a glowing musical form as well, hitting every difficult or dissonant note, and each performer finds a moment to excel. There’s the operatic melodrama of the stand-up princes (Savile and Rhys Whitfield) of Agony, the searing drama of Children Will Listen, and the wit of Your Mistake. Fleetwood is exceptional in and out of song (including the witch’s lament).

The alluring darkness of this dysfunctional family drama (with its fairytale bells) is literal in the gorgeous set design by Tom Scott. The black background is a dramatic canvas. It opens up into a forest with birdsong and shafts of light to become a living picture book of arboreal splendor but with all the gothic of the Grimms.

Scott’s elegant fashion dates back largely to the Middle Ages. The characters feel real and rustic and are given a very humanity, deflecting any potential sense of pantomime. The giant and his wife are not seen but are heard (in the voice of Valda’s aphex) and felt through the earthquake of sound and light.

Alternative, non-nuclear family configurations bring their own hard-won happiness in the end. This production has none of the breadth or festive spirit of a Christmas show or panto, but the splendor and charm of both.