Into The Woods – Lyric Theatre, Belfast

Into The Woods continues at the Lyric Theatre, Belfast until 27 February 2022.

Star rating: five stars ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

The Northern Ireland Opera production of Into The Woods currently gracing the stage of the rather lovely Lyric Theatre in Belfast is the first full professional staging in the UK of a Stephen Sondheim musical since the composer-lyricist’s passing in November last year. And although the choice to stage the Sondheim-Lapine fairytale mash-up was made well before the composer’s death, it feels an apposite one in retrospect, not only because Woods is undoubtedly one of his greatest achievements – his lyrical fireworks burn their brightest in this knotty patchwork-quilt of a show – but also because of its powerful emotional core. It’s certainly one of his most human offerings, and one that always leaves me in pieces by the end. And yes, I was in tears. ‘I guess this is goodbye old pal…’

Into The Woods is a show that doesn’t bear or need much interpretation (unlike Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd, say, which has mostly survived its various re-imaginings) and director Cameron Menzies – artistic director and chief exec of Northern Ireland Opera – doesn’t mess with the source material.

There’s a rich vein of comedy running throughout this show, and almost all of it is mined, with extra laughs being had in the joyous regional performances, of which more later. Like an enchanter stirring a bubbling cauldron, Menzies just keeps the various Grimm-Perrault plotlines swirling and close to the boil, and there’s no let-up in the action. If the Narrator were to have been reading from a book, he’d be turning those pages at a furious pace.

Capturing that sense of movement is scenographer Niall McKeever’s fabulous set. Dominating the stage of the Lyric is the enormous fractal vortex that pulls you into the show – like you’re being compelled through a dark forest path or swallowed down the belly of a wolf. It also mirrors the turbulent thoughts circling the minds of these ever-troubled characters, and functionally it provides a focal point for some key moments, at its most dramatic hosting the Witch’s histrionic exit at the end of ‘Last Midnight’.

Okay, with a set this big, the characters have to do a bit of slightly distracting clambering, and there’s not a lot of room left on the stage for Jennifer Rooney’s movement. Indeed, the choreography also isn’t as stylised as I’ve seen it in other more expansive productions, but this is perhaps Rooney’s intention, to keep the movement more naturalistic.

While the set’s kinetics are limited to its form – I was wondering if it would collapse in some way in the wake of the giant’s tramplings in Act II, but no, it’s going nowhere! – lighting designer Kevin Treacy manages to bring it to life. A great combination. Kudos too to McKeever for the costume design, which somehow manages to encompass everything from greasy denim and kitchen-sink realism to Highland dress and Arthur Rackham’s book of Irish Fairy Tales.

Musical director Peter Mitchell has a magnificent 15-piece band at his fingertips, and every note of Jonathan Tunick’s scintillating orchestration explodes from the pit as if fired by a confetti cannon. It really is one of the greatest scores in musical theatre, and it has rarely sounded better, particularly thanks to some wizardry from sound designer Ian Vennard, who manages to keep the band and voices in perfect balance. There was perhaps only one point in Act II when dialogue – not song – was overpowered by the band, so on the whole, an impressive achievement.

And what a joy it is to hear that cast, all 19 of them, and all employing their own regional accents. I’ve never been a fan of US productions of this show: American twangs or, worse, Americans attempting British accents, just don’t give me those Eurocentric fairytale feels. Here, though, a glorious mix of naturalistic Irish, Scottish and English voices just makes for a more authentic experience – a great choice by (Australian) director Menzies and his cast.

As always with this show, it’s the women who soar, so brava in particular Allison Harding (Witch), Sinéad O’Kelly (a particularly impressive Baker’s Wife), Kelly Mathieson (Cinderella), Mary McCabe (Rapunzel/Cinderella’s Mother), Samantha Giffard (Little Red) and Wendy Ferguson (Jack’s Mother). Unflinching support is provided by Brigid Shine (Lucinda), Jolene O’Hara (Florinda) and Catherine Digges (Stepmother/Granny). And in a rare outing, we even get to see Sleeping Beauty (Ruby Campbell) and Snow White (Maeve Byrne).

The boys have their moments, too. Alastair Brookshaw (Baker), Peter Hannah (Wolf/Cinderella’s Prince), Rory McCollum (Rapunzel’s Prince), Sean Kearns (Narrator) and Conor Quinn (Jack) all get their teeth stuck firmly into their roles, with the more minor roles well represented by Harry Lambert (Steward) and Paddy Jenkins (Cinderella’s Father, in a nicely fleshed-out characterisation for an all-too-often forgotten figure).

It is also a delightful surprise to hear the Capstan-Full-Strength tones of ‘Dame’ May McFettridge – the ‘buxom Belfast backstreet bombshell’ – providing the voice of the giant’s wife.

A strong cast, yes, but the show stealers for me are Quinn (making his professional debut) and Ferguson – the perfect comedy pairing, with their thick Belfast accents giving the home crowd even more to enjoy. And the fact that ‘Your Fault’ – perhaps the fastest I’ve ever heard it performed – is pulled off without a slip is credit to those brave souls involved.

So, thank you Northern Ireland Opera for a memorably Belfast-infused Into The Woods, enhanced by a fantastic-sounding orchestra and a cast of beautifully naturalistic voices. This can’t have been a cheap production to stage, so to see top price tickets costing just £35 is frankly startling. I was glad to have made the trip from London and be reminded once again of the genius of Stephen Sondheim. And Lapine, of course, whose contribution can’t be downplayed.

Craig Glenday

End note:

There’s just one stone in this glass slipper, and one that I hadn’t been aware of until this production: the use of the word ‘dwarf’ as a pejorative in Into The Woods. (Or two if you count the representation of the blind stepsisters, flap-tapping their white canes, arms outstretched in a cruel parody.)

My theatre companions for the night were a friend and her daughter with achondroplasia – a common form of dwarfism. Their disappointment at the lines in the Princes’ reprise of ‘Agony’ – ‘There’s a dwarf standing guard’ and ‘That’s no sicker than your thing with dwarves… dwarves are fairly upsetting’ etc – left them with a bitter taste, despite loving the Belfast production otherwise. Sondheim was rather proud of the laughs that these lines got – ‘my best jokes’, he writes in Look, I Made a Hat – but I can now only wonder how he would react if challenged, especially by a Little Person.

This comes in the week that Peter Dinklage rightly ripped into Disney after they announced plans to make a live-action version of the (fully titled) Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. ‘Have I done nothing to advance the cause from my soapbox? I guess I’m not loud enough,’ said Dinklage angrily. Surely the theatre community can do better? Haven’t we made any progress? In terms of Into The Woods, it’ll now have to be a question for James Lapine…