Glenda Frank
| "THE WOODSMAN"
"THE WOODSMAN"
"The Woodsman," a prequel to "The Wizard of Oz," is a dark dance-theatre exploration of love, loss and transformation. It lasts 75 minutes (no intermission) and covers two generations of woodsmen who find their beloved, build their homes, and change. Interesting concept, and the production is a piece of theatre magic, woven from movement, sound design, lighting, props and the delicate accompaniment of Naomi Florins’ violin (original, marvelously eclectic music by Edward W. Hardy). The puppets are magnificent, but this is not a story for children. Tweens, however, might love it. Think "Edward Scissorhands" without the Disney overlay. The play opens with a light, comic touch and deft directorial touches, especially the telescoping of time. In the first generation, she (Lauren Nordvig) surprises him (Will Gallacher) with a spontaneous kiss, and he responds with joy, passion, and the icon of a miniature home. In the next generation, Nick Chopper, their gawky son, (James Ortiz) saves the nimble Nimmee (Eliza Martin Simpson) from the Kalidah (a tiger-faced bear) and offers her his heart, a large red pendant on a chain. When the wicked witch, her employer, demands the gift from her, the cowed girl finally stands up for herself, then flees to find Nick. They build a home, but the witch has cursed the woodsman’s ax and bit but bit it cripples him as he works. Strange figures wearing lab goggles restore his limbs until he becomes all metal. Abashed, he rejects her and finds consolation in his work. Then Dorothy arrives, the house falls on the Wicked Witch of the East, and Dorothy flees up the aisle of the theatre.
Directors James Ortiz and Claire Karpen breathed life into everything. The set design (James Ortiz) – bare branches and back wall planks that create a deep wood – extends past the stage. On stage, actors hold out menacing tree limbs as the characters make their way through the forest. Part realistic, part horror film, the trees are one obstacles that the woodsman must continually overcome. More frightening are the monsters, the Kalidah and the witch, both extraordinary, life size puppets (designer Ortiz) that are manipulated by several performers. Despite having seen my share of stage and film witches, I was astonished at how real this witch seemed in her gestures, her gait, her menace. Her companions are dangerous crows, also manned by puppeteers. They fly, surround characters, and even flap one wing in a commanding come-hither gesture to Nimmee. The scenes with the puppets transpose us to a shadowy surrealistic world that reminded me of "Into the Woods."
Every detail of the production receives careful attention. The costumes by Molly Seidel (original costumes by Carol Uraneck) are essentially shades of grays, which is suitable for both puppeteers and peasants, but the distinctive design details are vivid enough to delight. They drape beautifully. The transformation of the woodsman into the Tin Man is a drama in itself. The plight of Nick Chopper resonates beyond the world of fairy tales to become an allegory for the returning war wounded.
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