Into the Woods

A visually rich if narratively awkward big-screen adaptation of the Tony-winning Broadway musical, Into the Woods is a clever and subversive fairy-tale mash-up that provides an amusing twist on some friendly faces.

The visual approach of director Rob Marshall (Chicago) helps to free the material from its stagebound roots, thanks to a vivid combination of colorful costumes and sets with seamless special effects.

For those unfamiliar, at the center of the story are a baker (James Corden) and his wife (Emily Blunt), whose desire to start a family means they must break the curse of a witch (Meryl Streep). She requires some very specific items for a potion, which causes the couple to venture into their kingdom’s harrowing woods.

That’s where they cross paths with Little Red (Lilla Crawford), the caped girl who meets a wolf (Johnny Depp) on her way to grandmother’s house; Jack (Daniel Huttlestone), who needs to sell his aging cow at the request of his mother (Tracey Ullman); Cinderella (Anna Kendrick), whose wicked stepmother (Christine Baranski) is preventing her from going to the town festival with her new slippers; and Rapunzel (Mackenzie Mauzy), the golden-haired maiden stranded in a tower.

While those intertwining tales are juggled, there are also dueling princes to provide some comic relief, including one (Chris Pine) chasing Cinderella and another (Billy Magnussen) with his eye on Rapunzel.

Shifting the play from stage to screen allows for some character details that enhance the setting without sacrificing the lyrical wordplay or the narrative structure. Yet it does seem to stifle Stephen Sondheim’s songs, which lack a show-stopping production number – the closest is an elaborate opening track that sets the tone – and a handful of songs in the middle feel like filler.

The playfulness of the cast is infectious, although the material might be too dark and confusing for small children (after all, the witch essentially is a kidnapper while the wolf in man’s clothing is a child predator). The screenplay by longtime Sondheim collaborator James Lapine – who also wrote the stage version – turns more dramatic in the final act with mixed results.

It takes a while to get to happily-ever-after with so many storylines to wrap up, but there’s enough consistent charm to make familiar characters seem fresh again. You’ve never heard their stories told quite like this.

Rated PG, 125 minutes.