Into The Woods
Runs through Nov. 9 at freeFall Theatre, 6099 Central Ave., St. Petersburg; 7 p.m. Thurs., 8 p.m. Fri. and Sat., 2 p.m. Sat. and Sun. $23-$50, students, teachers, seniors, military pay $20-$47; 727-498-5205, freefalltheatre.com.
I’m a great fan — well, a fan — of Act Two of Into the Woods, the much-celebrated musical by Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine. In this 50-minute section, we’re presented with the recognition that out in the real world, even fairy tales can go bad, vows of forever can have a time limit, and people we love can desert us or die. In this efficient act, fine songs like “Last Midnight” and “No One Is Alone” remind us that uncertainty is our element, and evil an ever-present danger. Even if we’ve avoided disaster at this particular moment, there’s always the morning newspaper to remind us of those who haven’t. Even when we've killed a vicious giant and saved our city, there’s still his colossal wife to deal with, the one who has sworn revenge.
In the spectacularly well-produced freeFall Theatre version of the musical, Act Two isn’t treated any better than Act One: both are presented lavishly, with really dazzling artistry. Still, that first act is too long (90 minutes) and too devoid of dramatic interest. It presents us with four fairy tales —Jack and the Beanstalk, Little Red Riding Hood, Cinderella, and Rapunzel— without overcoming the problem of their over-familiarity, and it offers songs that, for all their originality, are much too easy to forget. Of course, with Sondheim’s name on the program, and the glorious freeFall production in front of us, it’s tempting to imagine that we’re loving Act One even if we’re not. But so many minutes devoted to so few ideas is finally tedious. If only the play had begun at Act Two, Into the Woods might be as good as its reputation.
But let’s talk about that stunning freeFall presentation. These Woods have everything: brilliant acting, beautiful singing, first-rate costume and set design, and direction (by freeFall artistic director Eric Davis) as close to perfect as direction gets. There’s not a weak link in the 12-person cast.
As first among equals, Ann Morrison as the Witch would be just as appropriate on a Broadway stage, where she’s been known to hang out. Morrison is the image of wickedness as she tells the Baker and his Wife (the excellent T. Robert Pigott and Lee Anne Mathews) that they’ll never have a child till they bring her “a cow as white as milk, a cape as red as blood, hair as yellow as corn, and a slipper as pure as gold.”
Later, when Morrison’s Witch is transformed into someone more “normal” (but really more sinister, since she’s now recognizably human), she comes to stand for everything ugly, unwanted and regrettable about adult life. Some actors will do anything to win an audience’s sympathy; Morrison has the courage to be horrific from first moment to last. Her splendid singing voice would work as well in opera as in musical theater, and her commanding presence wins our attention whatever she’s up to. This is a performance to remember for years.
If Morrison brings us the image of turpitude, Kelly Pekar as Cinderella is the epitome of goodness. Pekar’s Cinderella is lovely inside and out, well worthy of any Prince’s attentions (the superb Nick Lerew has the wit to marry her), and then softly sorrowful when, in Act Two, her consort turns out to have a wandering eye. Cinderella isn’t the only good-hearted character on stage; as the heroes of fairy tales are usually well-intentioned, we have an earnest if not very clever Jack (the talented Taylor Simmons), a comically shriek-happy Little Red Riding Hood (the charming Katie Berger), and a curiously patient Rapunzel (droll Joanna Mandel). Matthew McGee as the play’s Narrator mostly avoids his signature silliness (with a very few exceptions), and lends such bearded dignity to events, you can’t help but wonder if his talents might not include serious drama. Other outstanding performers include Donna Delonay as Jack’s mother and Susan Haldeman as a nasty stepmother.
The impeccable costumes are by director Davis, as is the just-busy-enough set, featuring musical instruments and instrumentalists between two walls festooned with pictures. One of those instrumentalists is Michael Raabe, also the show’s music director.
I wish Into the Woods were as good as free-Fall’s treatment of it. But even with my qualms, I have to admire any theater that can put on a show of this quality. This is thoroughly first-class work, better than most regional theaters can dream of accomplishing. Sondheim and Lapine have been royally served.