Pinocchio

Right down to the yellow lollipops which the cast passes out after the finale, Pinocchio is a delight.

With a refreshing lack of pretension, the Children's Theatre has sparked Lucy Barry's adaptation of the old tale with bright, colloquial dialogue, sprightly music, and some very funny, original characterizations. The result, skillfully directed by Don Adams, is a warm-hearted, fast-paced spectacle of childish confusion and adult good fun. The play's facetious lines and well-tempered slapstick will undoubtedly appeal to sophisticated audiences; one hopes that the youngsters will be equally amused.

Ann Arensberg, in the title role, survives remarkably well in competition with her less inhibited, almost riotous fellows. Her changing attitudes are clearly delineated, and she inspires sympathy and even love when she is thwarted by scheming conspirators. Earle Edgerton and Margaret Groome, as Sir Fox and Madame Cat, work together hand in glove. Their nonchalance and dastard evil, dispelled at the end when they too become human, are lustily executed. J.D. Shucter as Gepetto the puppetmaker, peers with great authority through horn rims, though his early slapstick might appear a trifle strained. Marc Brugnoni's Sandwich Man is marvelously rakish and sly, but no one ever gets really scared, for his unctuousness naturally makes him more humorous than frightening. Blue Fairy's role is difficult in the presence of such raucous other characters. Louise Greep in the part is lovely, but suffers perhaps, from some self-consciousness.

Another praiseworthy factor in the production is its original music by Richard Brown. Though none of the cast takes, or indeed could take, his singing seriously, Brown's appealing tunes give the play cohesion and lightheartedness. The rousing reprise of the finale, "Flowers Are Dancing a Minuet," is slightly marred by sloppy choreography, but the song nevertheless is excellent.

Pinocchio will amuse weekend audiences even if the HDC's front-row claque doesn't attend.