Before the show even starts, the new production of Into the Woods at the Oxford Playhouse is charged with playful magic. The actors are lit in cloudy, white light: two share a short embrace; another paces side-to-side in deep focus; some of the company hold hands in a tight circle and start a vocal exercise. Then, our narrator comes into the light, creeping wordlessly along the front of the stage while all this is happening, blurring the lines between theatre and reality. We are reminded that this is merely a play that we are seeing: it is just actors we are watching, letting us into this temporary world—not ours, but a new world, created just for us. We are here, ultimately, for two hours of fun.

The premise of Into the Woods is easy to understand. It’s a clever medley of the most iconic fairytale stories—Jack and the Beanstalk, Cinderella, Rapunzel, Little Red Riding Hood—tied together through the Baker and his wife’s attempts to reverse a curse that has rendered them unable to have a child. The consequences of these interactions are made clear in the second act, where the characters must band together to defeat the giant at the top of Jack’s beanstalk. This whimsical plot provides a good canvas for the company to deliver upon their initial guarantee of a lively experience.

And the entire team behind Peach Productions delivers upon this promise whole-heartedly. It’s genuinely laugh-out-loud funny, with the cast and production team focusing on design elements like Rapunzel’s hair—so long that it takes three actors to run along the stage carrying it—to add further comedy to Sondheim’s witty and fast-paced lyrics. All the cast have excellent comic timing, but the shout-out comedic moment has to go to Act Two’s ‘Agony (Reprise)’. The two princes (Ben Gilchrist and Joe Baszczak) are astounding in this song, and their performances are helped by the production’s decision to add microphones to the stage and play the song as if the two princes were cheesy 90s pop stars, dappled in ostentatious silver light as they sing of their misery. Thaejus Ilango’s performance as Little Red Riding Hood is also worth mentioning—she brings a wry sarcasm to the role that is refreshing to watch.

But, it is important not to dismiss the show as light-hearted fun alone. That would dismiss the sheer talent of the cast and Isobel Connolley’s powerful musical direction. Sondheim’s lyrics are notoriously difficult and require strong diction in order to be performed effectively, but every single member of the cast seems to handle them effortlessly. The orchestra, as well, is such a magical touch to the production—I can’t give them enough praise as performers. Eleanor Bogie’s powerful performance as the Witch is especially chilling: she balances a strange and shocking rawness in her voice with smooth, slick control. Considering that this is at the Playhouse, it’s even more important that the vocals stand up to professional standards. There is a high level of pressure upon the cast, but this clearly hasn’t dissuaded them. Everything works.

The comedy of the first half is necessary for the tragedy of the musical to have full impact as well. As the Baker and his wife sing in “It Takes Two”—we journey “beyond witches and slippers and hoods,” and instead take a more shadowy detour after the interval, where the skies are now strange, and the winds are now strong. The production team deserves huge amounts of credit for this seamless transition from the boundless energy of the first act. Kai Wray’s vision with the lighting design is best realised here. Stabs of red light inject a decidedly violent element into the off-screen deaths which may have otherwise felt forgettable or tokenistic. We are forcibly shocked by these changes as a result: forced to pay attention to their gravity within this story.

The most tragic moment of the whole play, towards the end, occurs in silent darkness, except for a single, small, and tightly-focused white spotlight. For a moment, time seems to stand still, and this once-lively world contracts before our eyes. It never fully comes back again afterwards. The world has lost its colour, and the cast give quieter performances in the last few songs to deliberately reflect this sense of permanent loss.

I’m not entirely convinced that some of the set design choices in the second act work particularly well though. The set is paired back as tragedy strikes, with the back curtain lifting up to reveal the orchestra, fusing the fictitious world of the play and our own reality together even tighter than before. It is inventive, yes—but it completely disconnects us from the immersion that is required for the tragic second act to work effectively. It introduces too much of the real world into our story. This is a fictitious, absurd, comic world that we are being allowed to access during the play. Yet it’s one that the audience must believe in and engage with—and I stopped completely believing in it because of this production decision.

Some of the choreography, too, felt slightly crowded at times, and too much action (particularly in the first half) was concentrated too far left on the stage. I would have loved to have actually seen some of the conversations between Little Red Riding Hood and the Bakers during the opening song, but I was struggling here, even from one of the best seats in the house.

That being said, Peach Productions’ Into the Woods is excellent, and really worth seeing. I speak to a beaming Oliver Spooner—the show’s narrator as well as the “mysterious man”—outside the Playhouse after the show. He gives an impressive physical performance that binds the show together when it needs someone to drive it forward, and does well to constantly connect us to this absurd world that he is a conduit between.

He tells me of the incredible community that they have forged since rehearsals began in Michaelmas, and how, in fact, the team are on their way to a celebratory pub trip as we speak. This community, and its creative cohesion comes across on stage to create a remarkable experience—an experience that, for a while, allows you to forget reality, and urges you to accept the cast’s invitation into a world that’s more whimsical, and genuinely exciting.∎

Words by Ruby Tipple. Image courtesy of Ruby Tipple.