Who would’ve thought two 19th-century German nerds could cause such a stir? When Jakob and Wilhelm Grimm compiled their nation’s folklore in the Grimms’ Fairy Tales they sparked two centuries of childhood nightmare fuel. Disney cartoons, Terry Gilliam films, Stephen King books, horror franchises, NBC police procedurals. It seems every third amateur writer, no doubt responding to unreflective trauma, is doing their take on the classic tales.
Theater Above the Law throws their hat in the ring with Grimm, written by Michael Dalberg and directed by Tony Lawry. It’s a small-theater, high-energy, clownish, fairy tale-themed vignette performance that generates some admiration but ultimately spins into exhaustion.
We begin in a cabaret bar that exists somewhere beyond space and time—it doesn’t make a lot of sense, but hey, it’s a fairy tale. A collection of familiar characters including the Wolf (Taylor B. Hill) and Little Red (Aditi Gadhvi) act as narrators apropos the Moulin Rouge vibe, with clownish exaggerated fourth wall breaking and funny faces galore.
It reminds me of the neo-Commedia performances produced by Chicago’s Otherworld Theater. Though I think Otherworld does it better.
“Come with us, let’s adventure,” Little Red says. “Through magical towns and unbridled nature; explore joys and fears without censure!”
The cast deserves an A for effort. With every movement they’re selling the style. Sharp motions and sharper diction, gestures wide enough to fill a theater of 400 and certainly wide enough to fill our theater of 30-40.
Some people may hold a special attachment to this come-one-come-all schtick. But to me repetition is always exhausting. When everyone talks the same and smiles the same and presents the same, it all becomes soporific white noise. This goes for loud and quiet noises alike. People who fall asleep to action movies because there were “too many explosions” understand my perspective.
But suddenly the introduction is interrupted. Jakob (Kevin Woodrow), one of the Brothers Grimm, enters furiously asking questions and demanding answers. “What is this?” “What are all of you . . . ?” “What sick game are you playing at?” “Then where is my brother?”
It’s a little disorienting and tonally awkward. What starts as some kind of “Willkommen” clown pantomime flips into a crime movie interrogation. And none of it quite tracks. The audience trails behind the action, and by the time we’ve caught up, they’re on to the next thing.
We can gather, though, that Jakob believes the Wolf is responsible for his brother's death. The other characters don't exactly confirm or deny anything, but promise his brother's fate is hidden within their stories. And so begins five vignette performances adapted from fairy tales popular and obscure. Strap in and let’s go!
The first vignette is “The Goose Girl.” This along with “Hans in Luck” and “The Robber Bridegroom” were entirely unknown to me, so I can’t comment on how they may have subverted the original. “The Goose Girl,” though, fits comfortably with other fairy tale fare: a princess cheated by a jealous servant, a talking horse, a goose wrangler, and a marriage proposal.
Sophie Civetta stands out here as the conniving Chambermaid. Her sly expressions are so pronounced one shivers even from the back row. When she hops on the princess’ talking horse, thereby assuming the princess’ identity, she cries, “I’ve picked up after you for years, and I’m done! . . . No more! Give me your clothes.” We’re charmed by her arch charisma, as we would be for any Disney villain.
I struggled to follow the stories I didn’t know ahead of the play, which may be taken as a revealing sign. "Cinderella," perhaps the obligatory of Grimms’ tales, sticks strongest in my memory. I particularly appreciated how its action plays out with all the brutal grossness of the original story, complete with a slipper that became progressively more blood-soaked as the stepsisters try desperately to fit into it.
Details like that showcase the best quality of the show: it’s DIY energy. The company deserves credit for building stories and sets with just one small space. Using primarily mime work and a couple of high-top chairs, we jump from forest trails to granny’s cottage, and back to the cabaret bar.
It’s a technical feat created by a powerful collaboration among the actors, stage manager Reagan Stevenson, props Tony Lawry, lighting designer Britany Pearson, and sound designer Nathan Goldberg. All of whom should take their talents to more deserving work. One can only imagine what this creative, committed cast and crew could accomplish with less grating material.
Ultimately, one can only recommend Grimm to ardent fans of cabaret. Maybe they could find the greatest joy from the relentless wide-eyed jumpiness of the performance. Fans of the original stories, unless they are excited about this presentation, may think Grimm is a pointless exercise. It’s their favorite stories, after all, just told in a confusing and attention-seeking way.
Grimm by Theater Above the Law, continues at Jarvis Square Theater, 1439 W Jarvis Ave, thru November 3. Running time is 95 minutes with no intermission. Ticket price is $25.
For more information on this and other plays, see theatreinchicago.com.
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