RODGERS & HAMMERSTEIN’S CINDERELLA book by Douglas Carter Beane (Mirvish). At Ed Mirvish Theatre (244 Victoria). Runs to January 10. $35-$140. 416-872-1212, mirvish.com. See Continuing. Rating: NN
Take the classic fairy tale, blend in some Rodgers and Hammerstein songs from a 1957 TV show and sloppily staple in a few pages from Les Mis and you get Broadway’s latest version of Cinderella.
It’s rarely funny or entertaining, despite the original R&H tunes, lavish production values and a few well-defined performances.
The main problem is the new book by Douglas Carter Beane, which makes Prince Topher (Andy Huntington Jones) a parent-less, naive ruler-to-be influenced by a devious, self-serving minister (Blake Hammond). As in the original, Ella (Kaitlyn Davidson) is abused by her stepmother (Blair Ross), who dubs her Cinderella because of her cleaning duties. But she has only one caustic stepsister (Aymee Garcia) the other (Kimberly Faure) is shy, rather ditzy and kind, in love with a revolutionary (David Andino) who calls for reform in the kingdom.
There’s also the requisite fairy godmother (Liz McCartney), here called Crazy Marie, who wanders the forest and only reveals her true nature to the caring Cinderella.
Too much plot and needless filler, too little fun or romance. The songs from the original TV broadcast are still bright, but there’s a reason the other melodies by the famous composers were never popular. One of those 60-year-old tunes, the waltz Ten Minutes Ago, performed at the first act’s end, inspires choreographer Josh Rhodes‘s best number there’s a charm and freshness to what we see and hear not matched anywhere else.
The script gives Davidson’s Ella little definition, and the result is a wan heroine, but Jones has the proper innocence and comic sense as the prince who can conquer dragons but is unsure about what kind of ruler he’ll make. Ross is nicely snide and bitchy as the stepmother, and Faure’s goofy stepsister also get laughs. Hammond, Andino and Garcia’s hammy humour is less enjoyable.
The best moments are the magical costume transformations for Cinderella and her fairy godmother, instantaneous shifts from unsightly rags to visual riches. But that’s the theatrical equivalent of making a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, and not worth over two hours of your time.
