Despite Nostalgic Value, Mermaid Flounders

For a generation that grew up during the gilded renaissance of Disney animated films, Disney Theatrical Productions had big flippers to fill when it decided to bring The Little Mermaid to the Broadway stage. Little girls dressed in Mermaid attire dotted the audience—Ariel’s newest devotees sitting upon their booster-seat thrones. And while what transpires at the Lunt-Fontanne may very well be described as an iridescent drag queen fiesta, it should not go without mention that this production also offers a re-imagining of an iconic American classic. It succeeds as a work of escapism, and can really make you feel as though you’re that wide-eyed four-year-old once again.

Chances are that if you weren’t one of those little kids who wanted to be Ariel yourself, you probably at least know someone who was. The Little Mermaid is largely credited with revitalizing Disney’s then-dying animation studios, and something about it has the ability to evoke nostalgia, even nearly 20 years after you first fell in love. It’s this nostalgia that, despite some obvious shortcomings, makes the stage adaptation so much fun that even an elitist theater student can’t help but have a good time.

That four-year-old being channeled will likely turn out to be a valuable asset for your imagination—and it may serve you better than set designer George Tsypin’s maritime kingdom. The curtain that greets you is more an overly literal “under the sea” than one representative of the show’s flashy splattering of bright colors. Sure, we know that the ocean floor is actually dark and scary and filled with all sorts of creepy things, but this vaguely trippy representation feels like the entrance to an aquarium jellyfish exhibit rather than a family-friendly Broadway show.

Doing almost a complete 180, the curtain rises to display a series of sets that appear to be covered in that crinkly, shimmering wrapping paper, rendering the oceanic palace less “treasure untold” and more Beach Barbie. Plastic reigns supreme in this grotto. In fact, the large, cumbersome revolving lily pads—er, stalks of seaweed (who really knows?)—seem as though they were rescued from Disney’s “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea” ride two decades ago and remastered by Mattel.

Needless to say, the most aesthetically pleasing moments of the show are probably the ones in which the set pieces are minimal. When Ariel saves Prince Eric from drowning, for example, there is a moment of dance-like theatricality as she “swims” circles around him. They are surrounded by almost nothing, and lighting designer Natasha Katz’s soft, subtle lighting takes precedence. Amidst two-plus hours of virtually nonstop iridescence, this quiet simplicity is welcome.

The costumes, by Tatiana Noginova, certainly fit into this world of over-the-top glitz and neon. The mermaids (and mermen) wear skirts to cover their legs, from which swinging tails emerge at the back. Flotsam and Jetsam, the eels, with both tails and visible legs, look more like lizards or dinosaurs than slithering sea creatures as they sashay across the stage, although the glowing lights along their bodies are a nice touch. In a large company scene, actors carry fish on poles, but they look like neon green polka-dotted kites at best. Much of the design seems like a sorry attempt to emulate the genius Julie Taymor so stunningly created in The Lion King, easily Disney Theatrical’s greatest artistic triumph.

It is Ursula’s Medusa-like hair and umbrella-like tentacles, though, that take the cake. Thankfully, Sherie Rene Scott’s fierce performance almost makes you forget just how awful they are. She doesn’t let her costume wear her the way many other actresses might, but rather offers her own fresh take on the sea witch. Pure evil blends itself with dark comedy in her portrayal, and with one of the best belts on Broadway, she soars through her musical numbers.

Newcomer Sierra Boggess is perfectly convincing as the adventure-seeking teenage princess, and she has the pipes to boot. Her rendition of “Part of Your World” made us shiver with goose bumps. The undeniably talented Norm Lewis, however (whose abs do deserve mention), is a disappointment as her father. Where Triton should be wise and imposing, he is robotic and stiff. His talent may be wasted in such a thankless role, but his singing voice will probably make you weak in the knees.

The now-infamous use of heelies, which are shoes with attached roller-skate wheels, was perhaps our favorite addition to the gaudy stage adaptation. They might be ridiculous in theory, but they’re not quite as bad as you’d think. Sadly, though, Boggess seems to be the only one fully adept at using her stylish “mer-blades.” The former figure skater effortlessly glides in and out of scenes, conveying the ebb and flow of being underwater through her body language and graceful port-de-bras. The rest of the cast makes a valiant effort but never entirely lives up to Boggess’ standard.

Moreover, any sort of fancy footwork is limited by the unconventional footwear. “Under the Sea” has the potential to be the showstopper of the entire production, but choreographer Stephen Mear’s grounded dancers beach any such hopes. Numbers like “Positoovity,” involving non-merfolk, attempt to make up for this shortcoming, but they too fall flat. Perhaps the most carefully-crafted and genuinely engaging piece is a waltz between Boggess and Sean Palmer (Prince Eric) entitled “One Step Closer.” It is certainly the number in possession of the most classic Disney magic.

Mixed in with the catchy tunes from the 1989 movie, the stage adaptation features several new additions to these songs, with lyrics by Glenn Slater, who teamed up with original film composer Alan Menken for the production. They run the gamut from decent to not-so—the lyrics can’t hold a candle to the work of the late, gifted Howard Ashman (the original lyricist), but perhaps the expectation that they’d measure up is an unfair one.

Prince Eric gets two new songs, the first of which, entitled “Her Voice,” sounds like it walked straight out of Les Miserables, while Ariel and Co.’s “Beyond My Wildest Dreams” seems to be a backlogged ditty from Beauty and the Beast. While the unoriginality here may be a bit disheartening, Mermaid purists will be pleased to know that the instrumental underscoring for Ariel and Eric’s carriage ride has been turned into its own sung number. Standouts among the new songs also include the vaudeville-inspired “I Want the Good Times Back,” sung by Ursula and her cohorts, and the emotionally introspective “If Only” quartet.

As we eyed the Mermaid merchandise that we would have adored as children, the sales associate said something along the lines of, “Ariel holds a special place in many people’s hearts.” And it’s true. Yes, The Little Mermaid may never be hailed as an artistic achievement, and the purists might not so willingly accept a fairly major plot change in Act II—we won’t spoil the surprise—but it does manage to pull on those heartstrings you’ve been harboring for Triton’s youngest for as long as you can remember. While you may cringe at the tacky plastic sets or the flock of gulls winging their way through one of those less-glowing Menken-Slater numbers, you’re still having fun. Mermaid does not fail to entertain, and sometimes that’s all you can ask for, and all you ever really wanted in the first place.