Our critic takes in two puppet-driven musicals in Manhattan. But with the Omicron variant on the rise, maybe kid-friendly theater is best consumed at home right now.
“My, God,” I thought, perhaps 20 minutes into “Winnie the Pooh: The New Musical Stage Adaptation” at Theater Row in Manhattan. “Why am I here? That bear couldn’t even be bothered to put on pants.”
One of the small private sorrows of last year’s lockdown was that I couldn’t take my children to the theater, a practice I’d begun when I was still carrying them in BabyBjorns. With vaccinations newly available to the 5-to-11 set, I had just started to bring them back. When I’d booked our tickets for “Winnie the Pooh,” the Omicron variant was still mostly an abstract concept, fodder for late-night jokes and Twitter memes. But as we made our way to Times Square this weekend — passing round-the-block lines at testing sites and crowding into a subway car — it felt a lot more real.
Written and directed by Jonathan Rockefeller, with songs borrowed from the Sherman Brothers and other music composed by Nate Edmonson, “Winnie the Pooh” is an unremarkable stage adaptation of the Disney franchise, itself an adaptation of A.A. Milne’s short story collections about a human boy and his fuzzy friends. Despite having always agreed with Dorothy Parker’s assessment of Pooh in her Constant Reader column — “Tonstant Weader Fwowed up” — I’d hoped that the show would seem worth the risks.
The show follows Pooh, that pantless “bear of very little brain,” and his animal friends through four seasons. The seasons — falling leaves, snowflakes — are absolutely the best part. The scruffy full-size puppets are manipulated by denim-clad actors doing weird voices. (The actors control the puppets by sticking a fist through the backs of their heads, which is somewhat disturbing.)
But it’s both much too much, when it comes to the acting, and not nearly enough in terms of story or stakes or reasons for being. At the performance I attended, Pooh’s mic broke, and one of Tigger’s feet disconnected. In the summer section, Pooh became stuck in the hollow of a tree, which was nice for a while.
A toddler behind me happily narrated the goings on, but one of my children threatened to doze off throughout and the other kept kicking me with her rain boots, which suggests something less than rapture.
Two days before, we’d had a far more soothing experience, at another puppet-driven musical, the New Victory Theater’s “Jim Henson’s Emmet Otter’s Jug-Band Christmas,” a stage adaptation of the 1977 television special, based in turn on the children’s book by Lillian and Russell Hoban. The theater looked as glorious as ever, though rigorous social distancing kept it less than half full. Onstage were a mix of enchanting puppets (including some really acrobatic squirrels) and humans dressed as animals. Set in Frogtown Hollow, a picture-pretty riverside community, the show tells the story of Emmet and Ma, semiaquatic animals eking out a hardscrabble life of laundry and odd jobs.
When they receive news of a talent competition with a $50 reward, they separately decide to enter, though this means hocking Emmet’s tools (to buy a costume for Ma) and wrecking Ma’s washtub (to provide an instrument for Emmet). So it’s very “Gift of the Magi.” I question the wisdom of trading the means of honest work for a fleeting chance at fame. But then again I was a theater major, so really what do I know?
Christopher Gattelli, the director and choreographer, and Timothy Allen McDonald, the lead producer, have gussied up the libretto nicely, giving the furry characters a bit more depth and enlivening the talent show. Mostly unchanged are Paul Williams’s superb songs, which draw lightly upon American folk, rock and bluegrass traditions. (Dan DeLange is the orchestrator, he and Larry Pressgrove also provided new arrangements.) Like his best work with the Muppets, Williams’s music is naïve without condescension, as playful as it is heart-whole beautiful. I had “Brothers,” “Our World” and “When the River Meets the Sea” flitting through my head for days after.
Though it is a children’s show, it is not exclusively for children. (Our performance was attended almost entirely by adults.) The sets (Anna Louizos, with lighting by Jen Schriever) are charming and transporting, the costumes (Gregg Barnes) elegant. The message, which celebrates fellow feeling and mutual care, is especially welcome right now. I would have taken home every single squirrel.
But I don’t know if you should see “Emmet Otter” or “Winnie the Pooh” for that matter, especially with children too young to be vaccinated, despite the care that theaters have taken with their Covid-19 protocols. The day after we saw “Emmet Otter,” the New Victory canceled the next several performances because a company member testing positive for Covid. (Performances resumed two days later.)
And the day after “Winnie the Pooh,” we learned that my older child’s fully vaccinated teacher had tested positive, which meant that we would need to quarantine and then test. So it’s possible that we — and not that mom who was leisurely taking maskless selfies at “Winnie the Pooh” — were the real problem. Togetherness has its price right now.
Happily, the New Victory has made “Emmet Otter” available for streaming. So you can visit Frogtown Hollow without ever leaving your home. Which isn’t what most of us want. But it may be what a lot of us need. Even a bear of very little brain — or a bear with a brain half-broken from risk assessment — knows that.
Winnie the Pooh
Through Jan. 30 at Theater Row, Manhattan; winniethepoohshow.com.
Jim Henson’s Emmet Otter’s Jug-Band Christmas
Through Jan. 2 at New Victory Theater, Manhattan; newvictory.org.
Source: Theater - nytimes.com
