Not so happily ever after

By DANIEL SHOCK
A Seat on the Aisle

I’ve seen Into the Woods before. I know the songs, the twists, the overlapping fairytales. But somehow, this production by Epsilon Theatrical Company – performed in the lower level of Broadway United Methodist Church – hit me like I was seeing it for the first time. And perhaps in a way, I was.

Director Jayson Elliott has delivered a production that honors the adult themes lurking just beneath the fairytale surface, and this cast he put together leans into them with honesty and heart.

If you have never taken the journey, Into the Woods – with music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim and a book by James Lapine – weaves characters from classic fairytales: Cinderella, Jack (the one with the beanstalk), Little Red Riding Hood, Rapunzel, and others, into an original story of a childless Baker and his Wife. Act I follows the familiar quests of these characters as they try to get their wishes granted. Act II reveals what happens after “happily ever after.” The hard truth is, it’s not always happy.

The first act plays like a familiar bedtime story – witty, musical, and full of wish fulfillment. But the second act turns inward, asking harder questions: What happens after we get what we want? What do we lose along the way? In this structure, Sondheim and Lapine give us a mirrored tale – first joy, then consequence; first magic, then meaning. It’s a show that forces its characters – and its audience – to grow up, reckon with loss, and find community in the rubble. This production understands that arc deeply, and embraces both the whimsy and the weight.

The character and performance that connected with me most viscerally was unquestionably Cinderella, played with crystalline tone and aching vulnerability by Allison Williamson. Her voice was clear as a bell, her intonation was spot on, and when she sang “Mother isn’t here now” in the penetrating “No One Is Alone,” I found myself sobbing. It has been just over three years since my own mother passed, and that lyric – so simple, so gentle – pierced right through me. That moment alone was worth the price of admission.

As the Baker, Eric Thompson gave a deeply human performance. He didn’t hit every note perfectly – but he hit what mattered. His anguish, especially in “No More,” sung to the memory of his absent father (played by Chase Cornelius as the Mysterious Man), felt raw and relatable. You could see the weight of generational pain pressing on him, and hear his plea for clarity in a world that offers none.

Alyssa Linville’s Baker’s Wife was equally compelling. She is a character who can easily become a trope – defined only by her marriage, literally named for it – but this actor made her real. She played her desires, her temptations, and her underlying kindness with conviction. The performance didn’t demand perfection – it asked for empathy, and earned it. She captured that human struggle between temptation and duty, freedom and fidelity, with heartbreaking reality.

Shawn Hunt (Cinderella’s Prince) and Peyton Rader (Rapunzel’s Prince) delivered consistent comedic charm. Their synchronized bravado in “Agony” and its reprise was hilariously self-absorbed and physically well-executed. They strutted with gallant absurdity, poking fun at the dramatic, puffed-up masculinity of storybook heroes. Every entrance brought laughter.

The supporting cast was strong throughout: Isaiah Owens (Jack) brought youthful energy and vulnerability to “Giants in the Sky,” Brynn Dunlap (Little Red Riding Hood) was sharp and witty, and Aleah Mutchman (Narrator) kept the story flowing with clarity and poise. Cami Zook as the Witch balanced comedy, menace, and maternal heartbreak with skill – particularly in “Last Midnight” and the final “Children Will Listen.”

Elliana Rowls gave Milky White real personality, using movement and expression to make the cow feel sweet, sad, and even funny. The birds, brought to life with finger puppets, fluttered and flew with graceful motion. It was a small but magical detail that added to the charm of the show.

The church itself added to the immersion. The basement of Broadway United Methodist feels less like a traditional stage and more like the echoing hall of a kingdom. Framed by trees, a castle tower, and natural greenery, the set (designed by N. Scott Gibbons) cleverly used space and layers to suggest both intimacy and vastness. Lighting design by Mike Cowper and Daniel Oblak elevated the mood throughout, shifting between subtle transitions and dramatic flourishes to reflect emotional turns and changes in setting as the characters journeyed deeper into the woods.

Tim Reed’s musical direction deserves praise. The music of Sondheim is famously complex, but under his guidance, the cast stayed connected and expressive, even when the notes tested their limits.

What lingered with me after the final chord wasn’t just the quality of the production, but the way the themes landed differently than they ever have before. Perhaps it’s age. Perhaps it’s loss. Perhaps it’s that I, like many, have lived enough life now to understand that wishes come with consequences – and that the real growth happens after the storybook ending. As Sondheim writes: “Witches can be right, giants can be good. You decide what’s right.”

Elliott’s director’s note calls Into the Woods “a journey into the heart of human desires and the often-unforeseen consequences that follow.” This production lives up to that mission – and then some. It’s heartfelt, funny, poignant, and, yes – adult. Strongly recommended.

Remaining performances of Into the Woods run April 10 to 13 at Broadway United Methodist Church in Indianapolis. Shows take place Thursday through Saturday evenings at 7 p.m., with additional matinees on Saturday at 2 p.m. and Sunday at 3 p.m. Tickets are available online at epsilontheatricalco.org, where you can also find parking details and accessibility information. Several performances still have seats available, but don’t wait. This is a journey worth taking.

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