The Frogs, a seldom-performed Aristophanes riff by Stephen Sondheim and Burt Shevelove, has a history of site-specific staging. When the musical premiered in 1974, it took place in the Yale University gymnasium swimming pool, with Sigourney Weaver and Meryl Streep among its aquatic ensemble.
The location of Talk Is Free Theatre’s production, an expansive backyard of a beautiful home in Barrie, might seem a bit tame in comparison. But, staged inches from the audience by director Griffin Hewitt, the show commendably captures the free-wheeling, anarchic spirit of the text, in its lengthened 2004 version with additional Sondheim numbers and book updates by Nathan Lane. Warts and all, it’s a toad-ally great opportunity to see this rarity in the froggy flesh.
Described by Hewitt in a pre-show talk as SNL-like for its use of loosely linked sketches that make fun of people in power, Shevelove and Lane’s book ponders the power and limitations of theatre itself by taking us on the Hades-bound journey of the god of wine and drama, half-mortal Dionysos (John-Michael Scapin). He’s accompanied by a sarcastic slave, Xanthias (a world-weary, eye-rolling Taylor Garwood), a less wily version of narrator Pseudolus in Sondheim’s earlier A Funny Thing Happened On the Way to the Forum.
The goal of their metatheatrical trip to the underworld is to retrieve playwright George Bernard Shaw (Richard Lam), whose ability to critique the world’s foibles may help new audiences to see the error of their ways. If Dionysos also has a chance to see his deceased wife Ariadne (Sydney Cochrane)? That’s just a bonus. Meanwhile, the effete half-god needs to seem tougher if he hopes to steal Shaw back to the land of the living, and thus poses as his half-brother, ripped gym bro Herakles (an appropriately bombastic Kyle Brown). But did he mention he’s afraid of frogs?
Varvara Evchuk’s set is mostly mobile and made of wood pieces held together by the chorus; a large origami frog placed centre stage at the start gets recreated later as a larger, wooden Trojan Frog, which breaks apart to create doors and the boat over the River Styx. In a recurring device before each act in which the production crew tells us about the theatrical process, we’re enlisted to help out this tadpole-sized ensemble of six. Participation is minimal but comes at crucial moments, and the cast handles it well, prepping patrons beforehand so that the lunacy continues uninterrupted.
Actors cavort on runways covered with green handprints that run through the audience like spokes. There’s rarely a break in the flowing action between the sketches, in which Dionysos meets besequinned master of ceremonies Pluto, pot-smoking Charon the ferryman, or his own acolytes throwing an orgy.
Speaking of sequins, kudos to Evchuk’s cheeky costumes that translate ancient symbols to contemporary dress, presenting a garishly printed lion tank top as Herakles’ Nemean lion skin, a white linen travel suit with golden laurel leaf pin for Dionysos, and neon green sunglasses denoting frogs. Nic Vincent’s portable, multicoloured lighting tubes efficiently transition the evening performance from day into night, reacting to sound designer Erik Richards’ Zeus-caused thunder.
The well-amplified cast delivers Sondheim’s clever, intricate lyrics with impeccable clarity, whether they’re lampooning unfortunate audience habits, the vagaries of travel, or the titular animals who refuse change and drag others down with them.
Contrasting the light witticisms, Sondheim’s score features some fiendishly difficult numbers, full of eerie note progressions, and some singers are still stumbling over the harder phrases. However, the ensemble pieces, anchored by Cochrane and Crystal Casera, hold together like that well-folded piece of frog origami (frogami?), and light-footed lead Scapin is an adept and expressive vocalist. Meanwhile, musical director Ben Page makes the most out of the production’s simple instrumentation, playing a keyboard and tambourine.
Sketch comedy revues, even ones with a storyline, tend to be a single act for a reason. The show’s entertaining book sags a bit in its last half hour, which stages a contest of wit versus emotion, personified by a verbal duel between Shaw and Shakespeare (the latter here inexplicably talking like a pirate), that doesn’t make the clearest argument for why the eventual victor is a better choice. (I’m a bit surprised that it’s the Shaw Festival, not Stratford, hosting this production the weekend of July 11, given how its acerbic namesake is treated. Never say that the famous satirist, nor the festival that celebrates his work, can’t take a joke at his expense.) The show’s forays into emotional truth may leave you feeling ambivalent (or amphibiant). But we must remember that nobody expected ultimate emotional coherence from Aristophanes, either.
In a brand-new reference, Charon shouts out Beetlejuice, another musical with a handbook for death and a fateful journey to the underworld. But where Beetlejuice opines that only the living can truly progress and enjoy existence, the darker Frogs presents death as a non-stop party, where the dead can deal with the dreary backdrop to finally live without fear. It’s no wonder that Xanthias is quickly seduced by an underworld that gives him agency where he had none, even if he’ll never again see the sun if he stays.
While exhorting us to reject complacency, the show refuses to tell us how we move beyond escapism, satire, or giving up completely. It’s our job to pull ourselves out of the muck.
Many musical lovers would argue that Sondheim belongs in the theatre pantheon next to Shaw and Shakespeare, and that a good production of a rare Sondheim show is a blessing from Dionysos himself. I think so, too. And the drive to Barrie, or Niagara-on-the-Lake, is slightly easier than fording the River Styx.
Hop to it.
The Frogs runs at Barrie’s Talk Is Free Theatre until July 5. Tickets are available here. It will then transfer to the Shaw Festival from July 11 to 13.
Intermission reviews are independent and unrelated to Intermission’s partnered content. Learn more about Intermission’s partnership model here.
WRITTEN BY
Ilana Lucas
Ilana Lucas is a professor of English in Centennial College’s School of Advancement. She is the President of the Canadian Theatre Critics Association. She holds a BA in English and Theatre from Princeton University, an MFA in Dramaturgy and Script Development from Columbia University, and serves as Princeton’s Alumni Schools Committee Chair for Western Ontario. She has written for Brit+Co, Mooney on Theatre, and BroadwayWorld Toronto. Her most recent play, Let’s Talk, won the 2019 Toronto Fringe Festival’s 24-Hour Playwriting Contest. She has a deep and abiding love of musical theatre, and considers her year working for the estate of Tony winners Phyllis Newman and Adolph Green one of her most treasured memories.
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