“Princess and the Pea” at Tibbits a living storybook delight
COLDWATER—In a seemingly hopeless world, amid terrible news and violence upon violence, there is nothing quite like a theatre full of giddy, young children promised popcorn, juice, and a joyful play to bring some levity–if only for an hour.
The Tibbits Opera House production of The Princess and the Pea is pure light-hearted silliness that offers a positive lesson or two.
In this retelling of the classic children’s tale, an anxious king (Sean Thomas Noonan) and platitude-speaking queen (Diane Long) are distraught to learn their son (Ben Shimkus), after traversing all the lands with his best friend, a troll, in search of a princess to marry, has returned home empty handed and jaded by the incompatible princesses he’s encountered on his journey. When an unadorned down-to-earth princess (Emma Thomas) appears out of nowhere, she must prove her bravery, honesty, and sensitivity through a small battery of tests to convince the family she is, indeed, a princess, and therefore worthy of the prince’s hand in marriage.
Alec Talbon is terrific as Gustave, the impish green troll with prosthetic pointy ears and crooked nose. He’s a master of mimicry, gives a hugely athletic performance, sings a silly ode to his green-skinned beloved to the tune of Greensleeves and in many ways is the hero of the show.
Talbon is particularly good in scenes with Joey Gugliemelli, who plays a rouged, lisping, swishy-hipped histrionic Osric, the prince’s spiteful cousin with a ridiculous evil laugh. His character emerges straight out of the British pantomime tradition, and he makes the children giggle hysterically. When the two of them chase each other around and around the stage, lock each other in a chest, and duel as pretend ghosts, everyone screams with delight.
Wonderful storybook costumes by Wesley Denton match the soft pastel palette of Leon Kriser’s set—the crowning achievement of which is the fantastically tall bed put together on stage mattress by colorful mattress by the actors right before our eyes.
You convince by your presence; there’s no need to be anyone but yourself; love wins. These are the morals to this sweet and often silly tale. Let’s keep teaching our kids that these might still be truths, even when they’re hard to believe ourselves.