Sparse but creative
wine. Beanstalk-climbing Jack, always a bit of a kleptomaniac, has Oedipal issues and a lurid stare.
Imagine a live-action Disney film transformed into an Upper West Side group therapy session and you’ll have a pretty good sense of this colorful crew. The musical, a modern morality tale, is divided into two acts. The first half depicts the characters in desperate pursuit of their desires; the second half deals with the queasy fallout of fulfillment.
Fiasco’s 10-person acting ensemble (not counting onstage music director-pianist-and-pinch-player Evan Rees) gamely handles the army of roles. The cast’s breathless brio is unflagging, though there may be moments when you wish directors Noah Brody and Ben Steinfeld had prepared better flowcharts. The doubling and tripling can get dizzying. The company, to its credit, comically exploits the vertigo.
Darick Pead, who plays Jack’s cow, Milky White, unabashedly retains a bovine quality when playing his other roles. Patrick Mulryan is so dopily convincing as Jack that when he transforms into Steward, the Prince’s right-hand man, the character suffers the loss of a few IQ points.
Having the same actress (Lisa Helmi Johanson) portray Little Red Ridinghood and Rapunzel might seem logistically ludicrous. But an endless braid of yarn (serving as Rapunzel’s “yellow as corn” hair) creates a viable solution that earns a few silly laughs.
When Anthony Chatmon II switches between Cinderella’s Prince to Cinderella’s nasty sister Lucinda in the scene in which the Prince hunts down the foot that fits the shimmering slipper, the actor has no choice but to winkingly acknowledge the nuttiness. What else can he do? He also plays Wolf (carting around the hunting trophy) — and tells the audience at the top of the show to turn off their cellphones.
The ensemble doesn’t boast a Bernadette Peters or a Joanna Gleason (the Witch and Baker’s Wife in the musical’s original Broadway outing). Teamwork is the star here, which is another way of saying that collective verve substitutes for transcendence.
That isn’t always a satisfying trade-off. But Stephanie Umoh’s Witch grows in stature after she loses the old crone drag and sings — first somberly, then menacingly — about the many disasters raining down on everyone in the unhappily-ever-after second act. Laurie Veldheer’s Cinderella has an unforced sweetness that comes into poignant focus in the show’s most stirring number, “No One Is Alone.” (Don’t forget to bring a handkerchief.)
Evan Harrington’s Baker and Eleasha Gamble’s Baker’s Wife, the characters who are our modern urban counterparts, don’t make much of an impression until late in the game. But redemption comes through song — “Moments in the Woods” for Baker’s Wife and “No More” for Baker. (The most emotionally resonant songs are saved until after intermission, somewhat easing the toll of this marathon.)
I first encountered Fiasco’s “Into the Woods” in an outdoor production at the Old Globe in 2014 that featured an almost entirely different cast. I’m happy to report that the singing is stronger at the Ahmanson, though the main obstacle I had with the production remains.
The music ought to feed the musical’s momentum, but the orchestral streamlining exacerbates the sluggishness of Lapine’s overwritten book and the repetitive emphasis of some of Sondheim’s lyrics. When the finale comes nearly three exhausting hours into the show and the cast plaintively intones, “Careful the wishes you make/ Wishes are children,” you might find yourself thinking very loudly, “I get it already!”
“Into the Woods” could use a reduction not just of scenic froufrou but of narrative bloat. Fiasco’s springy theatricality is refreshing, but next time I venture into these woods I’m bringing a sleeping bag.
charles.mcnulty@latimes.com