Director Desdemona Chiang and her dream team of designers, directors, and a company of triple threat performers have created a Cinderella for the Village Theatre that will delight audiences of all ages throughout this season, and very likely in seasons to come. Chiang’s crystalline vision for a fairy tale that emits from the zeitgeist of our moment is realized in all aspects of storytelling. From the casting, to the visual storytelling, choreography, interpretation of lyrics and humor—everything and everyone on stage is unified in the same marvelous, astonishing, and fantastical world. From the littlest kid to the most senior audience members, folks of all ages and many cultural backgrounds will be thrilled by the theatrical splendor and joyous diversity of talents that romp through this beloved classic.
Yet, it is beloved by all? Certainly not. Not to women and others like me who’ve resisted the trope of the helpless little girl living in the ashes who needed magic and a Prince Charming to rescue her. Some of us kept the story from young ears, agitating against compulsory heteronormativity, despite the irresistible gorgeousness of its songs and score and the many renditions on stage and screens big and small.
Chiang and her cohorts lean into the hard questions, some of which are iterated by leadership notes in the program by Artistic Director Adam Immerwahr and Managing Director Laura Lee. What are we to make of the abuse Cinderella suffers? Why does it take magic and a Prince to save her, has she no agency of her own? I’d chime in, does every fantasy ball gown, every glass slipper, in fact, does every Cinderella always have to look the same?
A resounding, joyous, 8-part harmony response cries out, “Certainly not!”
The world conceived by the design team of Lauren Nichols and Arnel Sancianco (scenography), Chelsea Cook (costumes) Andrew D. Smith (lighting) Kurt Conway (sound) R. J. Tancioco (musical direction), Katy Tabb (choreography) under the brilliant leadership of Ms. Chiang and stage manager Jamie J. Kranz, have illuminated the Richard Rogers and Oscar Hammerstein III’s musical in a way my dear readers simply cannot imagine. That’s a lot of names, I know. Add to these teleplay writer Robert L. Freedman, and Tom Briggs, who adapted the lyrics and book for the stage, and the occasional line contributed by the cast (shhhh!).
It took that many humans to wrestle free from the eurocentric medieval stereotypes so burnished in our brains by the very term “fairy tale.” Here we have all the music some of you will recognize, “In My Own Little Corner,” “Impossible,” “Do I Love You Because You’re Beautiful” but they emit from a landscape filled with color-drenched visions of both a mythical “then” and an absolutely, emotionally immediate “now.”
The contemporary resonance of this Cinderella emanates from the effervescent talent of its young leading lady, Ays Garcia, and her interpretation of Cinderella as an entirely self-assured orphan with a firm dream about the possibilities of her future and the power of her own imagination in making it possible. Garcia is a magnetic stage presence and even though her singing voice hasn’t settled into Cinderella’s character, Garcia’s physical energy and shining clarity in her acting choices rule the day.
I recognized Garcia’s Cinderella as if she was a marginalized senior at an urban high school, stubborn and hard headed, a servant to her circumstances and the expectations of her step mother (Anne Allgood) and stepsisters (the inseparably hysterical Mia Mooko and Carly Corey)—the only family she’s got. You will never forget the corseted antics of Seattle treasure Allgood as the stepmother. Her fully orgasmic rendering of the line, “I [could be] the mother of a Princess,” happens not once but twice, to the glee of the opening night audience. And it’s true, because although her own unfortunately itchy (Corey) and snorty (Mooko) daughters do not get chosen by the prince (a suitably charming James Schilling), her step daughter Cinderella does. They are all winners in this full-hearted version, and that’s one of many reasons, along with Cinderella’s feisty and endearing nature, to relish a happy ending without a trace of cynicism.
How can you unpack cynicism when a chorus of inventive dancers bring little mice stick puppets to so much life you want one of your own? Watch Charlie Johnson, the wonderful dancer who plays the cat and the coachman driving the team of horses! Listen to the triumphant tenor voice of Jason Weitkamp as Lionel, the overworked court squire (babysitter) to the Prince! Fall for Schilling, as a young gawky prince who craves realness in his life and someone he can really talk to!
How can I remain an old scrooge when the choreography is so hip, so full of life, humor and at times, thrills? The hysterical pumpkin cameo! The soaring music of the Waltz at the ball! The bold choice of having the two young lovers embracing in a suspended moment of stillness, comfort and joy as the swirl of dancers fly around them! The velvety and loving duets from the King (Brandon O’Neill) and Queen (Candice Donehoo)! The gasp that burst forth from the audience when the curtain rose on the second act to the most genius of costumes designs in which fantastical, historical, and contemporary fashion collide! Those hysterical stepsisters and their own little comedy act! The calm of our pilot the stage manager, who, on opening night, stopped the actors, called the curtain down, and brought the whole shebang to a professional halt when there was a technical difficulty with a piece of moving scenery! The roar of the audience’s support when the curtain rose again!
I love the theatre.
Okay folks, this is a rave. Full disclosure: I’ve loved the music since I was a kid, even though I always proclaimed, “I hate Cinderella.” I’ll also admit that, “Ten Minutes Ago” was played at my altogether Lesbian wedding.
Romance is universal. Cultural touchstones are not, and this is why the diversity of the casting, the interpretations in costume designs, choreography and gestural language are so satisfying. Pay attention to the cultural information in the dress Cinderella inherited from her mother. Notice brief forays into Salsa or Calypso rhythms in the dances. And most of all, keep your eyes on Cinderella and our mistress of ceremonies Fairy Godmother, the Broadway-voiced Cassi Q Kohl.
I refuse to divulge anything about how Chiang, Cook and Kohl have interpreted this character. Suffice it to say that when Cinderella and her protector are onstage together, navigating Cinderella’s loneliness and longing, I couldn’t help but think her fairy godmother is really the spirit of Cinderella’s mother’s ghost, empowering her to tackle the world that’s trying to hold her down. With that in mind, everything that happens for our heroine isn’t magic at all—it’s a matter of will, hope, making the best out of every pumpkin patch, and ultimately, believing in yourself. Now there’s a princess after my own heart.
Cinderella, music by Richard Rogers, Book and Lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein III, Adapted for stage by Tom Briggs from the Teleplay by Robert L. Freedman. runs through December 30 at Issaquah’s Village Theatre and then transfers up to Everett’s Performing Arts Center to run Jan 6-Jan 29. Directed by Desdemona Chiang, Choreography by Katy Tabb and Musical Direction by R.J Tancioco. For the designers and cast, see above. Contact villagetheatre.org for information and tickets.