Sondheim's "Into the Woods' in New York

Location, location, location. There's no place more magical than outdoor summer theater, when all the elements— natural and artistic, physical and metaphysical— are aligned. And there's no setting more fitting for Stephen Sondheim's Into the Woods than the woods of Central Park.

The Public Theater is celebrating its 50th anniversary of Shakespeare in the Park with an enchanting revival of this musical fairy tale treasure, first performed in Broadway in 1987.

The current revival boasts its own luminaries (Donna Murphy, Amy Adams, Chip Zien, among others), but the true stars of this show are the spectacular setting and the gorgeous production itself. Timothy Sheader, whom the Public wisely invited to direct, knows this complex play intimately. He had successfully staged his own production of Into The Woods two years ago at the Regent's Park Open Air Theatre in London, where he also serves as artistic director.

In New York, Sheader and his ingenious designers (John Lee Beatty and Soutra Gilmour) have concocted a "vertical woods"— a towering, leafy construct consisting of four levels with spiraling staircases and walkways, through which dozens of characters pass. Surrounding this magical structure is the majestic Central Park, enfolding the fictitious woods in its lush embrace. The moment you see it, you know that you're entering a wooded world of theatrical wonder.

Cursed by a witch

The show's creators, James Lapine and Stephen Sondheim, conjured up a quirky collage of fairy tales, including Jack in the Beanstalk, Little Red Riding Hood, Rapunzel, Cinderella, and more. They framed these intertwining classical tales with their own original fable, concerning a baker and his wife who are cursed by a witch to a live a childless life.

The couple (played by Amy Adams and Denis O'Hare) embark on a search in the woods to find the four elements that will break the witch's spell— the cow as white as milk, the cape as red as blood, the hair as yellow as corn, and the slipper as pure as gold. In the woods, they encounter characters from the other fairy tales who are on their own respective quests.

Will everyone get what they want? And will they live happily ever after? "Beware of what you wish for" is one of the many warnings of this multifaceted tale, which, after many twists and turns, finds everyone happy at the end of Act I. Little Red Riding Hood, who was eaten by a wolf, leaps back to life. Rapunzel gets rescued, the witch is transformed into a beauty, Cinderella finds her prince and becomes a princess. The baker and his wife have their baby.

But this is Sondheim, not children's theater, and Act II leads us into another, darker woods, as dark and disturbing as anything imagined by Maurice Sendak or Roald Dahl.

No happy ending

Act II offers the interconnected developments of these stories (which, according to Sondheim, exist in virtually every culture in the world"“ European, African, Chinese, Native American, Middle Eastern). Yes, wondrous things happened in Act I. But now the baker's wife has an affair with the prince, the baker leaves his child with the princess, and so on. And that's only for starters. What happened to that happy ending?

(A special family matinee scheduled for August 22 features Act I only.)

Meanwhile, there are dazzling feats of stagecraft that delight: a tree-tall giant with the voice of Glenn Close and eyes made out of umbrellas; Grandma's bed (composed of a group of actors and a huge quilt) that spits Little Red Riding Hood from its innards; a witch who soars to the highest treetop and back again, only to be swallowed up later by the earth; a life-sized cow puppet made out of a trash can, and so on. These elements, together with a virtuosic cast of almost two dozen performers (standouts are Donna Murphy's charismatic Witch and Ivan Hernandez's seductive Prince/Wolf), render this Into the Woods a visual feast.

The fairy tale genre seems perfectly suited to the sensibilities of Sondheim, whose rich and complex works often blend the fantastic and the real, the dark and the light, the dangerous and the delightful. And the woods— with its lures, thrills, perils and discoveries— provide a fitting metaphor for a variety of the play's messages.

"What's so intriguing and so fatiguing is what's out of reach," cautions one song, as the characters wander deeper into the woods. "Are you certain what you wish is what you want?" warns another. "No one is alone," reassures yet another.

Parental remorse

But the over-arching message, one that resonates universally, pertains to parents and children. What do we teach our children? How do we guide them? How do we hold on to them? How do we let them go? What do we leave them after we're dead? These are the questions asked in a finale that is moving, tender, and at the same time tinged with remorse and regret.

"How can you say to a child who's in flight/'Don't slip away and I won't hold so tight'?" The intricate, poetic lyrics are signature Sondheim.

The title of that final, stirring song— "Children Will Listen"— provides a gentle but persistent reminder that we must be very careful with the tales that we tell them.