in and out: some comments on sondheim and lapine’s into the woods
by Douglas
Messerli
In 2014 I saw
both a stage production and the film version of Into
the Woods, strangely for someone so in love with theater
musicals and particularly Sondheim works as I am, long after the original
Broadway production of 1988. I felt that I had been sleeping through the late
1980s when I finally saw my first production of the work on the stage of the
Beverly Hills Wallis Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts based on the
Oregon Shakespeare Festival Production of the musical masterpiece in 2014. The
film flashed through my head soon after, and I fell in love. It wasn’t until
2025 that I actually got a glimpse through the 1991 PBS production of the same
work of the original, which I now believe to be far superior to the two later
visits I made to that Sondheim delight.
It wasn’t until viewing the PBS television
production of 1991 that I realized that the true center of the film was the
story of Jack and the Beanstalk, where a sexually confused gay boy had quite
literally taken a voyage up a large erect anatomy that had suddenly sprouted in
his own back yard to discover a world of giants. It is his act that brought the
wrath of the giant’s wife upon the society, destroying so many of the character’s
lives. And Jack, even at the end, still seeks women out as mothers instead of
lovers. In Sondheim and Lapine’s work, Jack remains a permanent gay adolescent
as if he were locked to some sort of Freudian notion of what homosexuality is
all about.
Yet he has also helped all the other
locked-in-and-up characters the freedom to explore the world outside of their
narrow folklore positions. Even the Princes discover that loving beautiful
women is not always truly fulfilling and seek out one another’s company to vent
their frustrations and, frankly, display their beautiful anatomies. Cinderella
abandons her magical world of the castle, Rapunzel becomes frustrated for being
locked away in a tower by her corrective witchy mother, and the Baker’s wife
discovers, for the very first time perhaps, that she is attractive even to the
most handsome of men. The poor Baker loses everything but discovers a world of new
friends. And Little Red Riding Hood finally grows up to see how her innocence
has nearly destroyed her life.
I think even the Brothers Grimm might be
amused to see where Lapine and Sondheim have taken their characters. These
tales, as the writer and composer make clear are, after all, figures who
children attend to, wonder about, attempting to unwind and reweave their
actions. Folklore and the accompanying myths are those that help to make us imagine
who we will grow up to be. Jack and his giants, Cinderella and her grand ball, Rapunzel
and her hair, the Baker and his Wife’s much longed-for baby are what we all
were as children, imagining the world which we were about to enter. Are we
pretty enough? Willing to explore worlds we never imagined existing? Do we want
the ordinary joys of a family life? Children do listen, and wonder, and
imagine.
Los
Angeles, March 30, 2025
Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog
(2025).