Why couldn’t the Royal Shakespeare Company leave well enough alone?
John Kane’s 1987 stage adaptation of the iconic MGM classic The Wizard of Oz uses almost all of the dialogue, iconic songs (by Harold Arlen and E. Y. “Yip” Harburg), and Herbert Stothart’s Oscar-winning incidental music verbatim. He even added the forgotten intros to “Over the Rainbow” and the comic trio “If I Only Had a Brain…a Heart…the Nerve.” Who’s ever heard these before?
And RSC added the dance number “The Jitterbug,” which was cut after the movie’s early previews because the company suits thought the new dance craze would date the fantasy film. Seeing A.D. Players’ spirited black-light version choreographed by Kyle Craig-Bogard, the suits were wrong.
But the RSC version is padded and stuffed with extraneous exposition that weighs it down. A line there, a line here, it adds up. Why didn’t this adaptation keep intact the glorious script by Noel Langley, Florence Ryerson, and Edgar Allen Wolff? It doesn’t need psychological insight or any more character motivation. It’s all there in the screenplay, complete in itself.
The movie moves without any superfluous modern nuance or motivation. In this version, right near the beginning, when her beloved farmhands Hunk, Zeke, and Hickory acquiesce to Miss Gulch’s taking of Dorothy’s dog Toto, Dorothy screams, “I hate you all.” It’s just plain wrong. Dorothy would never say that to them no matter how distraught. In the film, the three aren’t even in the scene.
It’s this sort of modernization that wounds and distracts. It’s so unnecessary and throws us out of our memories of the movie. We know the movie by heart; we don’t need context.
A.D. Players misses the magic. Yes, the performances are good, verging on exceptional; the dance numbers are invigorating; Torston Louis’ set design is beguiling; and Leah Smith’s witty colorful costumes give master MGM designer Adrian a run for his money; but something’s still lacking. Maybe it’s the constant lowering of the curtain between scenes to change sets, maybe it’s the soft voice of Dorothy (Fernanda Schoening, who channels Garland’s tremulous characterization) that might have been due to wayward miking; or maybe it’s the under use of projections.
I wanted to see flying monkeys in the background, not just one flying in from the wings (whose wires got tangled and couldn’t fly away, stopping the show for a momentary pause). The grand tornado was a bust. Professor Marvel’s gondola doesn’t have a balloon on top – a cutout would have sufficed. Little things like that would make a tremendous difference for our make-believe.
Yet the actors were troopers. Schoening’s voice is clear and crystal, if not strongly heard over the live orchestra, led by Jonathan Craft and his 13-piece orchestra. Her companions on the voyage through Oz were very good. Understudy Adam Kral as the Scarecrow, spelling Matthew Steven Lawrence at the performance I saw, seemed to have no bones in his body. Lithe, energetic, and gymnastic, he tumbled through pratfalls and ended up in a split on the floor. Wonderful.
Tin Man Patrick Fretwell moved as if made out of metal, all joints and jerks, and has stage presence to spare and a grand Broadway voice. Then, of course, there’s Spenser Plachy, channeling Burt Lahr’s Brooklyn vaudeville Cowardly Lion. His growls should be patented. All three are entertainers deluxe and bring this show to life.
Elissa Cuella, as the Wicked Witch of the West, has to overcome Margaret Hamilton’s cast-in-stone interpretation. Who could ever match her? She’s all right, but overplays the snark like a showboat villain. There’s no menace in her. And she doesn’t wear the pointed hat and flowing cape that is so much a part of her image. She is green, though. Laura Kaldis plays a bubble-headed Glinda, while Joel Sandel makes a warm “humbug” Wizard and sympathetic Professor Marvel.
The young Munchkins danced and sang well, and the Poppy chorus number, “You’re Out of the Woods…” was enchanting with umbrellas used as giant ruffled flowers, then closed up to beckon the ghost of Busby Berkeley.
This is still an entertaining show; how could it not be with those great bones. The youngsters in the audience sat without fidgeting or talking, so maybe my carping is a bit much. I still don’t like the over-analyzed script and wish it were purer to the film, but you can’t go wrong with those Arlen/Harburg songs that dance forever in your ear. And the message is forever strong: be kind, use your brains, have a heart, show courage. There’s still no place like home. That’s good enough for all.
The Wizard of Oz continues through August 10 at 7:30 p.m. Wednesdays through Saturdays; 2 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays at A.D. Players at the George Theater, 5420 Westheimer. For more information, call 713-526-2721 or visit adplayers.org. $25-$61.25.
