STAGE REVIEW : A Troubled ‘Toyland’ in Pasadena
Within each of us there dwells a child, a child who knows when it is being conned rather than being told a proper bedtime story.
Were this child to find itself perched on the knee of Toby Bluth, who has “reconceived” Victor Herbert’s “Babes in Toyland” for the California Music Theatre, it would raise such questions as:
If Mother Hubbard (Christopher Callen) can ignore the bars on the Toy Maker’s jail cell and hand him a huge cake, why can’t the Toy Maker (Robert Morse) also ignore the bars and walk out of there?
If everybody in Toyland likes Tom Piper (Timothy Smith), whereas nobody likes Mr. Barnaby (Peter Mark Richman), why should anybody believe Barnaby when he accuses Tom of killing the two orphans (Megan McGinnis-Pack and Richard P. Stuart)?
How come Father Christmas (Jeffrey Cornell) doesn’t help out the good people in the story? Doesn’t he know what’s going on? Doesn’t he care?
After a while, our hypothetical child would realize that Uncle Toby was making it all up, and would run off to watch TV. This is impossible at Pasadena Civic Auditorium, where a crowd of well- behaved youngsters and parents sat through all of Bluth’s version of “Babes in Toyland” Sunday afternoon and even applauded.
Uncle Toby can draw: Give him that. The Disney Studios filmed a live-action version of “Babes in the Toyland” in 1961. Bluth’s scenery suggests what the cartoon version would have looked like: the candy-cane village, the wise old half-moon, the forest glaring with animal eyes.
It’s not original, but it’s a look. Bluth’s costumes also have style. It’s a more androgynous style than Disney would buy (Little Boy Blue--Chris Finch--wears hot pants), but it’s a distinct one.
So there’s something to look at. But the attention level at Pasadena Civic Auditorium wasn’t high Sunday afternoon. The kids weren’t involved, not the way they are when it’s “Peter Pan” or “The Wizard of Oz.”
Probably “Babes in Toyland” was always more of a spectacle than a story, even in 1903--an American version of a British Christmas pantomime. But this version does seem to want to tell a story, even to preach a moral: something about the need to save Toyland (i.e., the world) from nuclear destruction.
But it doesn’t have a clue as to how to proceed with this. The idea seems to be that a nursery story is one conceit after another, all held together by the child’s “imagination.”
In fact, a proper nursery tale sets forth its ground rules right away. “Once upon a time, there was a land ruled by a cruel giant.” Good: We know who is running things. But who is in charge in Toyland? Now it’s Barnaby; now it’s the Gypsies; now it’s the fairies. How come it isn’t the Toymaker? (Robert Morse probably wonders the same thing: He is wasted here.)
While one’s inner child is fidgeting, one’s outer adult is noticing that about half of the original score has been dropped. Instead, we get a medley of songs from other Victor Herbert shows--”Kiss Me Again” from “Mlle. Modiste,” for example.
Is that so terrible? It wouldn’t be if the songs fit. But “Kiss Me Again” is a song of experience, not exactly the thing that Tom the Piper’s Son would be expected to sing to Little Bo Peep (Stacy Sullivan) as they bed down for the night in the forest. And when Humpty-Dumpty (Doug McArthur) quotes from “Tea and Sympathy,” you know you really are in Never-Never Land.
The finale brings all kinds of problems. Toyland is under laser attack--Barnaby and his entourage of G.I. Joe action-toys (who seem to have Contra connections) are on the march. How are they defeated? By unleashing an army of red-coated tin soldiers, who march through shot and shell jabbing their peppermint sticks at the audience like bayonets.
If this is an image of peace, I missed the metaphor. Like so much else in this “Babes in Toyland,” the moment gets its signals crossed, leaving viewers of all ages confused. “Frosty the Snowman” may not have a message, but at least it holds together.
Plays Tuesdays-Saturday at 8 p.m., with matinees at 3:30 p.m. Thursday and 2 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. Closes Sunday. Tickets $15-$30. (Children under 12 half price.) 300 E. Green St. Pasadena. (213) 410-1062 or (714) 634-1300.
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