Coraline
By Stephen Merritt and David Greenspan
Directed by Ed Rutherford
at City Lit Theater, 1020 W. Bryn Mawr (map)
thru Sept 6 | tickets: $25 | more info
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Read the book, see the movie, skip the musical
Black Button Eyes Productions presents
Coraline
Review by Clint May
Careful the wish you make
Wishes are children
Careful the path they take
Wishes come true, not free—”Children Will Listen,” Into the Woods
Neil Gaiman’s modern mini classic Coraline is an ode to the dangers—and thrills—of wish fulfillment. Watching Ed Rutherford’s latest adaptation of Stephen Merritt and David Greenspan’s 2009 musical based on the novel of the same name, I too had a wish. Namely, that anyone else had done it. Put the entire cast of House Theatre’s The Nutcracker under the Lookingglass’ purview and this might have achieved lift off. As it lies, this is a tone deaf interpretation that left this Gaiman fanatic—I have read all his works and never miss a lecture—utterly crestfallen as only diehard fans can be. Not since The Gift of the Magi have I seen an adapted musical make so many missteps.
One of the core beauties of the source material is that even as it’s a story of the downside of having one’s wishes fulfilled, it surreptitiously fulfills a wish children may not even know they have. It’s raises children—Coraline is not yet a teen—into the role of a mythic hero and understands their imagination in a way that tickles them even as it frightens like an amusement park ride. Gaiman’s classically inspired storytelling strikes a deep, common core. When done right—as in the gorgeous Oscar-nominated film adaptation that debuted the same year as the musical—it’s enthralling with an air of the timeless.
Reluctantly thrust into a new home fifty miles from anywhere, the oddly named Coraline (Sheridan Singleton) mopes about and pesters while her parents try to work. It’s a wonder she can be bored at all with a series of eccentric co-habitants occupying other parts of the vast home. In the garden apartment, faded performers Miss Forcible (Kevin Bishop) and Miss Spink (Caitlin Jackson) reminisce of the glory days while pampering their several Highland terriers. Oddball Mr. Bobo (Jeff Bouthiette) trains his mice all day in the attic with the hopes of one day unveiling a marvelous all-mouse circus. They all live in the exotic and impenetrable world of adults, however. No one pays Coraline enough attention to even bother getting her name correct.
A mysterious door beckons. When opened, it reveals only a brick wall. Nothing is as it seems when a second look reveals that it is in fact a portal to a distorted reflection of Coraline’s world. On the other side, this ‘Wonderland’ appears to offer everything Coraline could hope for, even a replica family that pays more attention to her. The “Other Mother” (Ryan Lanning) and “Other Father” (Justin Kimrey) promise she can stay in this world they built for her forever. There’s just one catch: like them, she must replace her eyes with large black buttons. Confirming her latent fears of this too-perfect world is a haughty kitty (Kevin Webb), who gains the ability to talk on the other side of the door (cats are a favorite flourish of any Gaiman work). When Coraline flees, she discovers that the Other Mother has trapped Coraline’s parents to force her to return and let them ‘love’ her (or eat her). Thus begins her trek to outwit the devious power at the center of a world she thought she wanted.
That I’m able to recite the plot so well is because I own the book and reread it before writing this. The musical version hews identically to the structure, with dialog lifted verbatim from the book. Merritt and Greenspan’s musical numbers add little to the drama with their bland rhymes and flat exposition (at least, what I could understand). It’s really astonishing given how talented these two men are that this is one of their works. Whereas the movie added depth and nuance and truly captured the spirit of the work, this musical version feels very much like a staged reading with little in the way of things to delight the eye or the ear. Not much in the way of movement, nothing truly transportive in the staging in City Lit’s limited space. Every number blurs into the other. Even their placement is odd—a series of missed opportunities here, an unnecessary interlude there. Even the plot-critical neglect by Coraline’s parents is only given passing mention.
Another glaring problem at the core (especially for those who know the source) is the tone. Rutherford replaces Gaiman’s dry, sparse whimsy with camp and otherworldly with overblown. Merritt and Greenspan fail to do the world-building necessary for a work of atmospheric fantasy. As I often reiterate, the main character in fantasy work is the world itself. So many times Coraline is forced to flatly state what is happening, how she’s feeling and what the world looks like as if reading the script design notes—the very antithesis of show-don’t-tell. A lack of fantastical stagecraft seems a criminal oversight (what I wouldn’t have given for some of The Nutcracker’s giant rat puppets). My research shows that the original production was so popular it had to be extended. This is utterly baffling as the show seemed to drag on well past its 90 minute run time. Perhaps it wasn’t word of mouth but the fact that Gaiman has such a huge cult following that made it so.
Given that the name of the production company is Black Button Eyes, it seems they were formed just to produce this. The technical team of Chazz Malot on lighting and Ryan Emens on scenery doesn’t evoke the differences between the mundane and the surreal with nearly enough clarity. Case in point: when Coraline realizes that looking through her magic stone lets her see the Other world as it really is, why is she made to awkwardly recite that the world looks gray every single time? Why can’t that be achieved through lighting? In the right hands, a sparse set can be a place for our imaginations to project into, but this pastiche of busted drywall and children’s pianos never becomes a canvas for flights of fancy. Instead it feels like something cobbled together by an improv team using things they found at the Salvation Army.
Normally I can at least rely on casting to do the heavy lifting of a poorly constructed show. Not so here. For a musical, it seems like no one was cast for their voice. Dialect coach Cate Gillespie needs to fine tune Singleton’s British accent to make it less irritating and more comprehensible, though she’s still projecting as too old for the role. Kevin Webb gets a few good moments as the cat, and the musical number in which his ‘paws’ continuously cause discordance is one of the few more drolly funny bits. Everyone else feels overly affected. More “Rocky Horror” than fantasy/horror. It doesn’t feel accessible enough for kids; too boring for adults. The intended audience for this is inscrutable.
A good philosophy in gauging the successful adaptation of a work is that it gives a true reason for its existence by smartly extending the world of the original or creating a delightful shared experience for fans. Coraline is an example of how you can slavishly ape a source and still miss a mark almost entirely. Nothing about the musical version as yet makes the work anything more than a misguided attempt to gild the lily. Oh, but I wish it hadn’t been so.
Rating: ★
Coraline continues through September 6th at City Lit Theater, 1020 W. Bryn Mawr (map), with performances Thursdays-Saturdays at 7:30pm, Sundays 3pm. Tickets are $25, and are available online through BrownPaperTickets.com (check for half-price tickets at Goldstar.com). More information at CoralineChicago.com. (Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission)
Photos by Cole Simon
artists
cast
Kevin Bishop (Miss Forcible, others), Jeff Bouthiette (Mr Bobo, others), Jennifer T. Grubb (Mother, others), Caitlin Jackson (Miss Spink, others), Justin Kimrey (Father, Other Father, others), Ryan Lanning (Other Mother), Sheridan Singleton (Coraline), Kevin Webb (Cat)
behind the scenes
Ed Rutherford (director), Ryan Emens (scenic design), Cate Gillespie (dialect coach), Rocky Kolecke (props design), Beth Laske-Miller (costume design), Chazz Malott (lighting design), Nathaniel Nashiem-Case (stage manager), Nick Sula (music director), Derek Van Barham (movement director), Cole Simon (photos)
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