Saturday, January 26, 2008

The Little Mermaid, Lunt-Fontanne Theatre, 25.01.08

Perhaps it will seem inauspicious for my first post on a specific production to be dedicated to a stage-translation of a Disney movie. There are those who think that such extravagant Broadway epics are incapable of being great theatre, or that the theatrical dabblings of huge media corporations will inevitably be lowest-common-denominator rubbish. Indeed, 'The Little Mermaid' would certainly be described by Grotowski as an example of 'The Rich Theatre', by which he means, as he was happy to tell us, 'Rich in flaws'.

I am therefore delighted to state, quite categorically, that this production was an absolute triumph, and a model example of how to bring the big-screen to the big-stage. In keeping with this blogs raison-d’ĂȘtre, what follows is not a review (although the show is fantastic) but what I’m calling a ‘critique’: I’m trying to examine how the show achieved the effects it did, and why it might have worked so well as a piece of drama. As such, this piece may have something of a different focus to many – it will include minor spoilers, but not any rundown of the plot etc. I’m more interested in selecting and analyzing bits of the show which demonstrate how it functioned as art.

Possibly most striking was the way the two different worlds, that of the humans above and the mermaids beneath, were characterized. The use of different lighting schemes (a deep orange for the human world, and a rich blue for the mermaids’) immediately brought the distinction to the fore, an effect that was amplified by the huge rotating ‘sun’ that hung above centre-stage and became stunning sea-jewel when we were ‘Under the Sea’. The first scene exemplifies the slick transitions between worlds that characterize this production: the curtain rises to reveal a ‘ship’, itself orange and gold and emblazoned with sun-imagery, floating serenely on the ‘waves’ with a beautiful golden backdrop. After the first number the ship and ‘waves’ rise above the stage, and we are given the impression of floating down to the depths of the ocean. As we descend the orange backdrop become blue, and the sun rotates to become the sea-jewel. Furthermore, the ship itself is essentially made up of two large ‘pendulums’ with astrolabe-like markings on them, lending it a technological air – and this distinction between the technologically-driven society of the humans and the magic-based one of the mermaids is maintained throughout the show.

Another episode which shows how fully these two societies have been conceived, and how carefully contrasted comes later, when we meet the women of Prince Eric’s (Sean Palmer) court. In comparison to the mermaids (who, ingeniously, ‘swim’ about the stage on those shoes with the wheels in the heels, enabling them to glide effortlessly and walk normally as required) the women of the court had huge spherical bustles which bounced up and down as they walked. This gave them a weighty solidity and ungainliness in contrast to the mermaid’s beautiful gliding, and enabled Ariel (Sierra Boggess), who did not wear such a bustle, to seem graceful and expressive in her movements.

Indeed, the entire section during which Ariel is mute was elegantly handled. Having your leading-lady lose her voice for most of the second act presents a significant difficulty to any producers of a show based on this story, and the theatre has no recourse to close-ups or other filmic conventions to show the fine facial expressions that might enable Ariel to ‘speak without speaking’. The producers of this musical handled the problem quite ingeniously. First they use well-staged sections in which Ariel sings her ‘inner-thoughts’ for the benefit of the audience. While potentially something of a cop-out, these sections succeed in becoming musical soliloquies that don’t seem at all out of place. The second approach, however, is even better: a new song (‘One Step Closer’) introduces the idea that “A dance is like a conversation”, and Eric teaches the mute Ariel to dance to express her emotions in lieu of speech. As well as being a great new song, this section also became a delightful commentary on the expressive capacity of art. This concept is emotively realized in a later scene in which Ariel, instead of singing to win Eric’s heart, dances for him – and through her dance, he knows her.

Finally, for pure theatrical extravagance, I must give a nod to the wonderful ‘Les Poissons’ scene. The film version of this scene is already so over-the-top that I was surprised at how perfectly they managed to catch it on stage. The absurd overhanging belly and hugely tall chef’s hat worn by John Treacy Egan effortlessly conjured the maniacal chef of the movie: evidence that costume-design can transfer a film-image to another medium. One of the stand-out scenes of the production.

There were a couple of less-effective decisions that deserve to be noted, both related to the ending. Most significantly, the decision to have Ariel defeat Ursula (the marvelous Sherie Rene Scott) instead of Eric was, I think, a mistake. Withstanding the significant challenges of realizing on-stage the wonderful scene in which his ship pierces Ursula’s breast, by having Ariel defeat the play’s nemesis a crucial element of its dramatic balance is upset. The film has a balance that the play does not, then: Ariel saves Eric from drowning, and in return he saves her (and her father) from Ursula’s machinations. By having Ariel triumph alone, the reconciliation between the two-worlds (reminiscent of a happy-ending Romeo and Juliet) seems a little forced, for what has Eric done to ‘deserve’ Ariel? Likewise, having the undersea and landlubber courts dance together at the end somewhat undermines the dramatic impetus of the plot: for if mermaids can live with man through the wave of a Trident, why turn Ariel into a human at all? Nonetheless, it provides a great finale and can be forgiven as the product of deserved exuberance.

These slight flaws, though, do nothing to diminish the overall effectiveness of this wonderful production. Go see it, and after you’ve seen it come back here and comment on what I’ve written – perhaps you’ll get a richer understanding of how the powerful effects created function dramatically, or perhaps you’ll violently disagree. In either case, please feel free to comment and add your thoughts about this startling piece of theatrical magic.

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