The children’s book The Little Prince, or Le Petit Prince, was first published in 1943, and has captivated audiences ever since. It is one of the most widely translated books in the world and has been adapted for theater, radio, television, and film. And yet somehow I managed to avoid ever reading or seeing it, until now. I imagine that the experience of seeing The Little Prince on stage is a little different for someone with a connection to the story from childhood; still, I came in with no nostalgia and found the story to be charming and to offer some profound messages about what it means to be an adult and to make connections with other people.
The Little Prince takes place in the Sahara desert,
where an aviator has crashed with only a limited supply of water. While he attempts to fix his airplane, he is
visited repeatedly by a little prince, who traveled to Earth from a little
planet where he lived alone except for a rose. In his journeys, the prince met
a number of unusual figures, and as he tells all of this to the aviator, the
aviator’s perspective on life changes. There do seem to be some slight changes from the book in this
adaptation, mostly in the number of people the prince encounters, but the
play works well with the smaller number of characters.
The Little Prince is part of Theatre in the Round
Players’ 70th season, a truly impressive number! I should admit straightaway that I love staging in the
round. I’m not sure what it is exactly
that gets to me; perhaps it’s because it
requires more trust in the audience? It's an extra step of interpretation to have to use physical and vocal and contextual
clues when a character is facing away, rather than interpreting their facial
expression. Perhaps it’s that this kind
of staging is more true to life! And
perhaps it’s that staging in the round requires the staging to be less static,
so that the audience’s perspective changes regularly. In any case, it can be such an exciting way
to view a play. I’ve never been in TRP’s
space before, but it’s a very nice space, big enough to fit plenty of people
but small enough that no one is far from the action.
Gretchen Weinrich directed this production, with Eli Sibley as assistant director. There was a strong, consistent tone throughout, which I think is one of the most important factors in a play like this. It was easy to walk away with a message, as well, although different people might identify the message a little differently (perhaps depending on whether they are an adult or not). Costumer Morgan Groff kept the costumes consistent stylistically while using different color palettes for various characters. The reveal of the rose’s petals was one really beautiful moment. I also loved the glittery, gold, oversized hat worn by one of the planet characters (but I always love an oversized hat).
The program (as with my last reviewed show, Steel
Magnolias) did not list a scenic designer.
I don’t know if this is a trend or a difference in definition – I asked
around about the airplane that formed most of the set and was told that the
prop designer, Mary Gravenstein, was responsible for it. Personally, I would not consider an
almost-full-scale airplane that stays in one place the entire show a “prop,”
and I wish that programs in general would be more specific (to whom do I credit the sand-like painting of the floor?). In any case, the plane had a nice weathered look
and I enjoyed the way it was styled for a “crash” in the sand. I don’t always notice props, but in the
sparseness of the space, some of Gravenstein’s props really stood out,
including the lamplighter’s pole and the somewhat oversized sketchbook/portfolio
(big enough to feel a little unreal, not big enough to be cartoonish). Kristin Smith’s sound design included some
interesting vocal effects and jaunty pre-show music. Andrew C. Kedl’s lighting complemented the
tonal shifts in the play, especially near the end, and the use of projections
was a clever way to display the aviator's drawings to the entire audience.
As the Little Prince, Shelby Fenn had a sense of openness and innocence that became increasingly tinged with sadness as more of the prince’s experiences unfolded. Danny Vopava’s Aviator started out very occupied by practical concerns, but was gradually pulled into the prince’s story. The relationship between these two characters is essential to the story, and there was a lovely, organic progression between Fenn and Vorpava throughout the play, especially in the way that they had to reconcile after arguing. I’d be interested to see the play again just to watch the beginning of this relationship, after what I knew about the characters by the end; the interactions between the prince and the fox put the opening scene in an interesting new light.
The ensemble members each played multiple characters. Aidan
Jhane Gallivan gave an emotional performance as the flower and the fox, two
characters desperate to connect with the prince but not always sure how. As the fox, Gallivan was frenetic and wary;
as the beautiful flower, she was tragic in her need for attention. Ron Giroux had an air of danger and mystery
as the snake, and I loved the threatening pose he took when about to strike; he
looked like a cobra spreading its hood.
Scott Hoffman’s businessman and geographer were two versions of the same:
self-important, scowling, and utterly missing the forest for the trees. Paul Schoenack’s king and lamplighter were
more sympathetic, because both characters felt like they could almost have been
friends with the prince, if only they could loosen up a little.
Even though I didn’t have a connection with The Little Prince from childhood, the emotions of the play have really stuck with me. It’s a lovely show delicately portrayed, about loneliness and connection and finding wonder in the world. One of the messages in the play is that it doesn’t matter if there are a million people or a million roses in the world; what matters is if you make a connection with one. It’s a message that is sweet and deceptively simple, and one worth holding onto.
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