Indulge me, please, in a brief flashback: It is January 1994, and I am sitting in the audience at Playhouse on the Square, watching Peter Pan in complete awe. It is my first theater experience. I am 3 years old. Fifteen years later, I begin studying theater under the same director of that show, Ken Zimmerman.
It is March 2008. My dear friend and I are driving behind our classmate, slowly, because of the unseasonable snow. We cross a bridge and see his truck begin to fishtail in front of us, then straighten out. We are all on our way to rehearsal for our high school’s first big musical production in years. The show is The Wizard of Oz.
Fourteen years later, my son — days away from his 5th birthday — and I sit in the audience at Playhouse. We are here for his first theater experience. The show we are seeing is The Wizard of Oz.
To say seeing this particular show with my child is a full-circle moment seems redundant. It feels like the sort of childhood trivia that will be repeated to him throughout his life. “You went to a live show before you ever even went to the movies!”
Any anxiety I had about a 4-year-old’s ability to sit still through an entire performance was quelled almost immediately. My son noticed the lights and asked, “When is that [the curtain] going to go up?” I had brought him not only so we could share a special memory, but also to get a child’s perspective of the play. He turned around in his seat when the actors were downstage during the twister scene; he was trying to see what they were reacting to. During “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” he excitedly whispered, “I know this song!”
One thing I knew my son in particular would love was the Wicked Witch of the West. In the program, Caroline Simpson, who plays the Witch, as well as Ms. Gulch, jokes that she “is very excited to have the opportunity to terrify the children of Memphis,” which I read with amusement as I sat beside my child, whose favorite characters in any story are villainous women. A picture of 17-year-old me as the Witch is on our refrigerator, a source of wonder for my macabre-loving son. As soon as Simpson flew offstage after the Witch’s intro in the tornado scene, my son turned to me, grinning under his mask and gave me a thumbs up.
The standout element of this production were the costumes. The Wizard of Oz is such a familiar show that it could easily look and feel rote, but Lindsay Schmeling’s designs were a delight to take in. Munchkinland looked as though the inhabitants had collectively raided a Manic Pixie Dream Girl’s closet, to absolutely fabulous effect. Punk rock crows, glow-in-the-dark jitterbugs, umbrella-canopied trees, and a diaphanous rainbow-clad Glinda lent an innovative, even modern take on the familiar Oz attire. Ms. Gulch, who I would usually think of as drab, strutted onto the stage in balloon-style slacks, totally changing the dynamic of the character.
The only note amiss in the show for me was unfortunately Patsy Detroit’s depiction of Dorothy Gale. It is my personal opinion that playing the “straight man” in any show is always the most difficult, and perhaps the vibrant nature of the other characters made the contrast sharper. Although I found Dorothy to fall a bit flat, especially when compared with the vitality of the rest of the cast, it did not hinder the overall success of the show.
The Wizard of Oz is perfect for a first-time theater-goer, and Playhouse on the Square’s production is an experience all ages can enjoy. My son was not the only young child in attendance, and seeing new Memphis audiences being introduced to the arts was a heartwarming thing. Witnessing the magic of live theater through my child’s eyes was enchanting, and something I hope neither of us will ever forget.
The Wizard of Oz runs at Playhouse on the Square through December 22nd.
