I Never Thought I'd Be So Happy (With This Film)

Movie Review: Into the Woods

James Cordon as the Baker and Meryl Streep as the Witch in Disney's Into the Woods.

After what seems like an eternity, Disney's highly anticipated film adaptation of Stephen Sondheim's Into the Woods has finally arrived in theatres. The good news is that the internet's concerns about the film's fidelity to the source material are almost entirely unfounded; this is an incredibly faithful and respectful adaptation of the beloved stage show. Even better news is that the movie is a very good and at times even great film in its own right, featuring an excellent cast and a suitable dose of movie magic to make this fractured fairy tale truly sing on the big screen. Purists will no doubt have their complaints, but for most fans and the uninitiated this is an excellent representation of a contemporary classic from one of musical theatre's undisputed masters.

For those who don't know, Into the Woods weaves the well-known fairy tales of Cinderella, Jack and the Beanstalk, Little Red Riding Hood, and Rapunzel together with an original tale about a childless Baker and his Wife. Early in the film, the Baker discovers that his family has been cursed by the village's resident Witch, and the only way to lift the spell is to collect four magical objects before the impending blue moon. What follows is a series of misadventures that ultimately subverts the notion of "happily ever after" while also exploring what happens when you get exactly what you want, only to find that it wasn't at all like you expected.

The musical's original librettist James Lapine adapts his own script into a very smart condensation of the stage show. Into the Woods has always been a marvel of tight pacing, so the fact that Lapine managed to trim things in way that doesn't sacrifice plot is truly impressive. Cut musical numbers are replaced with scenes that cover the same story beats, and the bridging of the musical's two distinct acts is handled about as well as conceivably possible. Sondheim has tweaked some lyrics where necessary, and listening to Jonathan Tunick's symphonic arrangements is like hearing this score afresh. Even the musical numbers that didn't make the film are represented via underscore in their same approximate locations, and truly sharp-eared fans will catch a surprising reference to one of Sondheim's other Tony-winning musicals.

Speaking of the fans, those afraid Disney would sanitize the musical's darker edges can rest easy. Pretty much everything that happens onstage happens in the movie, with the difference being the film tends to only imply things the stage version made more explicit. There's even a surprisingly sexual "Hello, Little Girl" that somehow slipped past the censors, proving that director Rob Marshall and company weren't lying when they insisted they were doing a very faithful adaptation.

Rob Marshall's direction is somewhere between his Oscar-nominated work on Chicago and his more questionable choices on the underwhelming Nine. His kinetic camerawork certainly keeps things interesting, although the constantly revolving camera sometimes distracts from the storytelling rather than enhances it. Marshall smartly limits his use of special effects to some key moments, which keeps the magic feeling magical without overwhelming the characters. His production team has lovingly designed the film with lavish sets and costumes, although the film tends so dark it can be difficult to make out the details.

One thing Marshall and his team have absolutely nailed is the casting, with nary a weak link among the story's dozen or so principal and secondary characters. Oscar-winner Meryl Streep is clearly having a blast as the Witch, making a veritable feast out of the "Witch's Rap" and chewing the scenery in the best possible way. Streep also sings like a dream, ranging from breathy intimacy to full throttle belting over the course of her musical numbers. Her tour de force performance of "Last Midnight" meets even the loftiest expectations and definitely proves that whether or not he intended to, Sondheim wrote a genuine showstopper when he added the song after the musical's out of town tryout.

The always enjoyable Emily Blunt is excellent as the Baker's Wife, a natural comedienne with a surprisingly strong voice and effortlessly natural line delivery. Her chemistry with James Corden's Baker is palpable, with the latter also doing a fine job with his character's more emotional scenes during the movie's second half. Anna Kendrick continues to prove adept at just about anything she sets her mind to, even if the more intimate medium of film highlights that some key points of Cinderella's emotional growth occur off screen. Her "Steps of a Palace" is a knockout, aided by Marshall's brilliant decision to play the entire song as a split second decision that occurs while Cinderella is being chased by the Prince.

Speaking of the Prince, Chris Pine isn't quite as at home in a movie musical as many of his costars, but that doesn't stop him from being a perfectly aloof foil to Kendrick's introspective Cinderella. Pine and Billy Magnussen's gloriously campy "Agony" is nearly perfect in its beefcake-skewering brilliance, second only to Streep's "Last Midnight" on the list of the film's standout moments. Lilla Crawford makes for a hilariously deadpan Little Red, and Daniel Huttlestone brings a genuine boyish glee to the role of Jack. Tracey Ullman, Christine Baranski, and Johnny Depp all make strong impressions despite limited screentime, and the uniformly excellent cast is one of the movie's strongest assets.

Into the Woods is ultimately about as good an adaptation as one could hope for. Purists will certainly find things to nitpick, and fans will no doubt miss some of the cut songs (I'm particularly sorry we lost the Witch's "A bear?/Bears are sweet..." segment from the Act II opening), but overall this is an incredibly faithful adaptation in spirit, tone, and execution. The plot and themes remain virtually unchanged from the stage version, with Marshall and his game cast embracing the opportunities offered by the big screen without abandoning what has made this such an enduringly popular property in the first place. It won't replace the invaluable recording of the original Broadway production, but it is an excellent companion piece and definitely worth seeking out.

Willkommen Back

Review: Cabaret

Alan Cumming, reprising his Tony-winning role as the Emcee, leads the nubile denizens of the Kit Kat Klub in Roundabout's revival of Cabaret.

When Roundabout Theatre Company announced they were remounting Sam Mendes and Rob Marshall's acclaimed, Tony Award-winning production of Cabaret, the news was understandably greeted with some scepticism.  Roundabout made very clear that this would be a near exact recreation, boasting the same creative team and Tony-winning star - Alan Cumming, reprising his near-legendary performance as the Emcee - of a production that had only closed on Broadway 10 years prior.  It all sounded like a shameless cash grab, something the nation's largest non-profit was doing to finance the rest of its season rather than something born out of any artistic need or urgency.

Thankfully, while all of the above may be true, this resurrected Cabaret is a powerful interpretation of one of the undisputedly great musical dramas.  Nothing about Mendes' recreated staging feels canned or stale, and this representation of the decadent days proceeding the second World War is both highly entertaining and deeply unsettling.  This is a show with something important and downright challenging to say (an all too rare occurrence in contemporary musical theatre), and with the exception of one key piece of casting it is carried off with such artistic integrity and assurance that only a fool would begrudge Roundabout's return to the Kit Kat Klub.

For those who have never seen Cabaret, the show takes place in 1930s Berlin right before the Nazis' ascent to political dominance.  Bisexual American novelist Cliff Bradshaw moves to the city looking for inspiration for his next book, and is soon pulled into the exhilaratingly seedy world of the Kit Kat Klub, which is overseen by an otherworldly Emcee and headlined by the free spirited Sally Bowles.  Cliff and Sally move in together and begin a romance, while their landlady Fraulein Schneider is wooed by a Jewish fruit seller named Herr Schultz.  As the country's Nazi leanings become more pronounced, all of the characters are forced to decide whether to continue their carefree, pleasure-focused lives in the face of mounting political tension.

Cabaret remains a rock-solid piece of theatrical writing, featuring perhaps the finest collection of showtunes Kander and Ebb ever created during their 50-plus years of collaboration (this production has smartly incorporated several songs the pair wrote specifically for the movie, including "Mein Herr" and "Maybe This Time").  Joe Masteroff's libretto expertly juggles multiple plot threads while creating multifaceted characterizations, and the show tackles some very big issues in a way that is digestible without diminishing their importance or complexity. 

Co-directors Mendes and Marshall (who also handled choreographic duties) expertly guide the narrative with clarity and precision, nailing the juxtaposition of tones for maximum theatrical effect.  Celebrations of life's decadence such as "Willkommen" and "Two Ladies" are intoxicatingly delightful, while the scenes between Herr Schultz and Fraulein Schneider are positively charming.  But the show can turn on a dime to deeply unsettling, powerfully staged moments like "If You Could See Her," the Act I closer "Tomorrow Belongs to Me," or the show's chilling final tableau.  Mendes and Marshall make excellent use of Masteroff's book and Kander and Ebb's score to lull the audience into a false sense of complacency before springing the show's more disturbing elements on us, demonstrating just how easily anyone can be caught unawares by life's dark side.

All these years later, the Emcee remains Alan Cumming's signature role, and the Scottish actor is every bit as astounding as one could hope.  Cumming's voice remains virtually unchanged, and he exudes a carefree confidence tinged with a hint of menace.  Cumming is game for pretty much anything, from performing lewd gestures to dancing overtly sexual choreography to donning various androgynous costumes (or sometimes wearing almost nothing at all).  At first genial, Cumming becomes slowly unhinged and more antagonistic as the evening wears on, and by the time he asks, "Where are your troubles now?" during the finale, it's as much an accusation as anything else, implying that human selfishness is what allows tragedies like to Holocaust to happen.

As Fraulein Schneider and Herr Schultz, Linda Emond and Danny Burstein are close to perfection, with an easy chemistry and a gravitas that makes their relationship the heart of the show.  And while Burstein is well-known for his musical theatre chops, Emond's play-focused career has denied the world of hearing her fantastically strong voice until now.  Bill Heck acts the role of Cliff with conviction, and Aaron Krohn is excellent as Ernst Ludwig, the charming Nazi sympathizer made all the more unnerving by his utter normalcy.  The cast and ensemble (who also doubles as the orchestra) are uniformly excellent, with one very notable exception.

Unfortunately, that exception is Michelle Williams as Sally Bowles.  The Oscar-nominated actress is making her Broadway debut, and while no one can accuse her of resting on her laurels, she gives a deeply misguided and ultimately unsatisfying performance.  Probably miscast, Williams has moments of strength and a surprisingly sturdy singing voice (remember that Sally is supposed to be at best a second rate singer, a fact the movie ignored in favor of casting the excellent Liza Minelli).  But Williams' performance rings false thanks to a collection of character tics that don't really work for her.  She constantly shakes and has an entirely unplaceable accent, making it unclear whether Sally is an addled drug addict, putting on an adopted persona, on the brink of a nervous breakdown, or some combination of all three.  Whatever it is, it doesn't really click, making a character that has in previous versions been defined by her authenticity feel fake and untruthful.  It's also unclear what about this Sally makes Cliff, who as played by Heck clearly prefers men to women, stay with and ultimately fall in love with such a deeply damaged individual.

Everything and everyone around Williams is excellent, and there is plenty to recommend this revival (especially to those who missed the production the first time around).  But the role of Sally is such a pivotal one that Williams' labored performance does bring the show down a notch or two.  With another actresses in the role, this Cabaret would easily be one of the best things running on Broadway.  As is, it is still a strong production of one of the musical theatre's greatest dramatic works, an adult work just as interested in challenging the audience as it is in entertaining them. Fans of that kind of theatre should definitely head over to Studio 54 and heed Cumming's opening entreaties to "bleibe, reste, stay."