The Little Prince
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s The Little Prince was adapted as an opera by composer Rachel Portman and librettist Nicholas Wright and given a world premiere at Houston Grand Opera in 2003. The book, of course, is internationally famed and beloved as a children’s classic ever since its publication in 1943, months before his untimely death flying an airplane for Free France. Saint-Exupéry is a French national icon, and his novella went viral before the term existed. Its popularity has never waned and became a token of the flower power generation in the ‘60s.
A surreal fable, it tells the story of an aviator who has crash landed in the African desert and his meeting with a little prince who is wandering the universe in search of wisdom before he returns to his home asteroid B-612 and reunites with the rose that he loves. In a series of anecdotes, the prince relates his travels and learns that the heart is the master of all things, and that adults are vain, stupid, and self-absorbed. “It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”
The novella is feel-good literature, and that’s exactly how Portman has composed the tale. Well respected and lauded for her work (an Oscar for Emma, two Emmys, and an Order of the British Empire), her music is essentially easy-listening, very descriptive, and lushly orchestrated. It’s tuneful and allows the singers to sound good while singing.
When the prince meets the businessman, counting his stars, typewriters are used as background. The vicious baobab trees stomp to a raucous drunken tune with plenty of thumping bass drum. And the little stars twinkle with harp, clarinet, and high strings along with an ethereal young girls chorus. It’s very pretty but therefore all sounds the same. Whether little ones’ ears will be attuned for this is debatable. The conflict, such as it is, is whether the little prince will find what he’s looking for among these disparate characters, like a fox, a king with no subjects, an entertainer who only wants praise, a lamplighter who lights and then extinguishes his streetlamp every minute because his planet spins so fast, the drunk who drinks to forget that he’s a drunk, and, naturally, his beautiful but vain rose back home.
The Pilot learns from the Prince, so when the boy allows the snake to bite him and instantly send him on his way home, the man realizes the message of remembrance, forgiveness and kindness to others. The ending is a joyous hymn of praise to the laughing stars.
There’s not much else to this opera, but the Opera in the Heights production is filled with childlike projections, cut-out sets, and lovely stage images, thanks to the nimble direction from Josh Shaw (responsible for OH’s memorable Japanese/English version of Madame Butterfly), scenic designer Chyna L. Mayer, fantastic costumes by Mary Webber and Shaun Heath, and lighting by Edgar Guarjardo. The singing is accomplished down the line, and when the combined forces of the adults and children roar out in praise of memory and goodness, the roof of Lambert Hall lifts a little.
Assured with stage presence to spare and a deep resonant baritone, Kellen Schrimper was a mighty Pilot; soprano Kaitlyn Stavinoha a petulant and thorny Rose; mezzo Melanie Ashkar a foxy Fox; soprano Laura Corina Sanders a limpid and clear Water. The other roles were covered extremely well by tenor Amaan Atkins as the Vain Man/Snake/Baobab/Hunter (who might have a second career in Cirque du Soleil for his acrobatic prowess); tenor Eric Botto as Lamplighter/Baobab/Hunter; baritone Jack Frank as Drunkard/Baobab/Hunter; baritone Wesley Landry as Busnessman/Baobab/Hunter; and bass Johnny Salvesen as King/Baobab/Hunter.
But with all due respects to the adults, the evening belonged to treble Everettt Baumgarten as the Prince. His clear high voice rang through the hall like shining glass. He seemed very confident with Portman’s unusual scoring and held his own against Shrimper, Ashkar, and Shivinoha. He made quite an impression. (Another phenom, treble Daniel Karash will spell the role Saturday, December 14. And baritone Scott Clark does the same for the role of the Pilot on the same day.)
Maestro Eiki Isomura led the OH orchestra almost as a tribute to Portman’s distinctive writing. The entire place sounded exceptional. Even the typewriter.
The Little Prince continues at 2 p.m. December 14 and 15 at Opera in the Heights, 1703 Heights Boulevard. For more information, call 713-861-5303 or visit operaintheheights.org. $26-$85.
The Ugly Xmas Sweater Musical
Call me Scrooge, but I just don’t understand this at all. While others around me beamed and laughed at TUTS’ The Ugly Xmas Sweater Musical, I found no joy and little comfort in it except for the presence of Julia Krohn as Cheryl, the PR manager at Regalia Industries, a uniform manufacturer going out of business at Christmas, and, thankfully, Brooke Wilson, as the Teutonic whirlwind of new bossy owner, Olga.
Krohn and Wilson are godsends in this trifling show, as padded as a ‘50s snowsuit, which has audience participation (read embarrassment) as ugly sweaters are paraded in front of us by the wearers, who have been encouraged to don their hideous holiday apparel so they can be made fun of to the delight of all. Then, in case we haven’t had enough merriment, Regalia presents its new line of ugly sweaters with a new round of “models,” picked from the audience. They are made to catwalk and sashay under the tutelage of the very gay social influencer Niles, played with abandon and plenty of sass by Nicolas Garza, who appears at first as office loser Doug, sleazy and always on the make. Doug disappears too quickly after a scene or two. More of him, please.
Krohn is delightful as frazzled Julia, peppy and industrious, who comes up with the plan to save Regalia by making ugly sweaters the top of its line. They have no time to do it, but do it they must. Her singing voice is crystal clear, and she is a master at ad-libbing to the audience who play the Regalia workers. Every entrance of Wilson’s is greeted by a clap of thunder and a new hairdo. She rules this musical with steely stage presence and camp expertise. If you must have a reason to see this show, she’s it.
The other cast members do what they can to make this as entertaining as it can be, although it’s a rather useless undertaking, but Kiara Caridad performs a lively rap and twerk version of “The Twelve Days of Christmas,” Kevin Cooney gives his stale dad jokes a certain dash, and Trey Morgan Lewis and Betty Marie Muessig fill in the ensemble.
Restaged by Mitchell Greco from TUTS’ Artistic Director Dan Knechtges’ original direction and choreography, there’s no difference from previous incarnations. I think it’s a little tighter, but it makes no never mind. Musical Director Ben Childress works wonders on his keyboard and sounds like a lively chamber orchestra at times, sprucing up the place and giving everyone a warm feeling of holiday cheer while the show chugs along, trying its best to be hearty and welcoming.
Every time Wilson strutted on stage, I perked up as did this wan little show, which after three years has become a sort of Houston holiday cult classic. Nothing I can say will change that. So, if you have an ugly Christmas sweater moldering in your closet, wear it with pride and at your own risk. You might make your debut on stage. Now that might be your best present ever. Maybe.
The Ugly Xmas Sweater Musical continues through December 22 at TUTS at Zilkha Hall in the Hobby Center, 800 Bagby. Performances are at varied times so check their ticketing website. For more information, call 713-315-2525 or visit tuts.com. $35.
The Night Shift Before Christmas
Billed as a “world premiere,” they’re pulling a fast one over at the Alley for their small theater holiday show. It’s a one-woman comedy/drama starring the incomparable Briana J. Resa as a harried fast food burger flipper on Christmas Eve. Written by Isaac Gómez, it is exactly What-a-Christmas, written by Gomez and starring Resa (2022). It is the same play, just with another title, rearranged sets, different costumes, and no Selena. It’s been tweaked and slightly updated, but it is the same piece. Why change the name? Why call it George and Martha when you already have Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolff?
Whatever. This still boasts Resa at her best, feistiest, and most profane. Don’t take Aunt Bee.
Night Shift, as you will recall from What-a-Christmas, is a Houston-based knockoff of A Christmas Carol. Margot, though harassed by belligerent customers, wants to work Christmas Eve. It’s low paying and mind-numbing, but she remembers her sassy best friend working beside her and, if I heard it correctly, her mother had worked there or eaten there. There are memories, but memories tie you down and can hold you back.
She’s also not a nice person in this phase of her life. She yells at the homeless man on the property; she didn’t wait for the ambulance to arrive when cowboy Clyde collapsed and died in the snow a few feet away from the building; she yells at her customers, though they yell right back. She needs a lesson, like Scrooge.
So you know exactly where this play is heading, but the surprises comes not from the hackneyed plot sampler, but from Resa’s astounding performance as all the characters. I don’t know how she managed it, but she applied long sparkly fingernails to be saucy best friend Jackie with purple roots. She’s the Marley in Margot’s life. The harbinger.
The cowboy dances up a mighty fine two-step and teaches her about kindness; the cross-dresser raised by mom shows up in feathery attire with a candled wreath on her head, like Christmas Present, to do his lounge act he never got to perform in life (I’m not sure what this has to do with Margot, but go with it. Maybe it’s about tolerance. Tolerance for the audience – one song is enough.)
So when Grumpy Santa isn’t bogeying doom and gloom, who shows up but Mom, who died of cancer and Margot never got over it. She wasn’t always there for her. But Mom, like all mothers, has the uplifting message for her. Get out of the fast food business. Go do something with your life.
Mom’s visitation has the required effect, if not quite the dramatic punch it does for Ebenezer. But she miraculously finds a hundred dollar bill in her pocket and gives it to homeless Rico, tells her boss she quitting right now, and turns off the lights. End of play. It’s not exactly the reclamation Dickens was going for.
The one thing I truly remember from the Alley’s world premiere was the cooking of that first burger. Her customer says that Happy Burger will deliver your food in under 90 seconds. So do it. Resa went into overdrive, slapping the patties on the grill, toasting the buns, grabbing the cheese slices, pickles, and onions, spurting on the special sauce, wrapping them all, then as a final touch she dumped the onion rings into the bag. The smell of cooking hamburger wafted through the theater and lasted the duration of the play. The effect was magical and salivating. It still happens here. Other than Resa’s nuanced and miraculous performance, the fragrant smell of grilled meat is what lingers. Could that be the Spirit of Christmas Yet to Come?
The Night Shift Before Christmas continues through December 29 at 7 p.m. Tuesdays through Saturdays, 6:30 p.m. Sundays and 1:30 p.m. Saturdays and Sunday at Alley Theatre, 615 Texas. For more information, call 713-220-5700 or visit alleytheatre.org. $51-$61.
This article appears in Jan 1 – Dec 31, 2024.
