Paloma Lopez and Marriane Hammar in A Year with Frog & Toad
Frog and Toad, a classic grumpy/sunshine pair in children’s literature, debuted in four easy readers written and illustrated by Arnold Lobel in the 1970s. And when I say “easy reader,” I mean The Cat in the Hat-easy. Despite their limited vocabulary, these minimalist tales of forest fauna with human-type lifestyles have captivated kids and adults alike. So perhaps inevitably, there’s a musical adaptation, one commissioned by Lobel’s daughter Adrianne – though it was no mere vanity project; she’s a theatre professional.
With music by Robert Reale and book and lyrics by brother Willie Reale, A Year with Frog & Toad leapt from a 2000 workshopping at New York’s Vassar College, to the Children’s Theatre Company in Minneapolis in 2002, to off-Broadway that same year, and to Broadway in 2003. Though it closed after two months, it still managed to hop away with three Tony Award nominations, including Best Musical. (It lost to Hairspray in all three categories.)
The show's current St. Ambrose University production, which I saw on Saturday afternoon, is directed and choreographed by theatre-department chair Dan Hale, with music direction by frequent Circa ’21 Dinner Playhouse performer Bobby Becher. It’s overflowing with cheer and color, boasts splendid production values and an energetic cast, and I declare it delightful for all ages.
Technical director Aaron Hook’s set, nestled in St. Ambrose's compact, below-ground Studio Theatre, is a cozy, inviting nook at the base of a tree that shrinks the audience to wee-critter size, surrounded by oversize flowers, a cattail, and a morel mushroom, with a starry sky overhead. Scenic-charge artist Becky Meissen also merits accolades for the transformation. Three arches hung with velvety crimson Austrian drapes are used effectively to facilitate swift scene changes.
For example, in the cookies scene, rather than Toad simply walking offstage with a tray to imply that there’s an oven, one set of drapes rises to reveal a jaw-droppingly fantastic antique stove-and-oven unit. Surprising details like this bring extra flavor to Hale's already-solid production, and there are other elements aimed at the enjoyment of the grown-up stratum. I was sitting in the front row, close to the action, which allowed me to read the title of the book Frog was reading. Funny. And no, I’m not telling you.
Three Birds (Allison Harker, Ebby Barber, and Rylan Moore), sophisticated travelers who winter in the south, bring glam when they return to the forest. Flaunting fine (real) feathers on dress hems and tux lapels, these natural singers open the show with a swingy, harmonized introduction to longtime friends Frog (Marriane Hammar) and Toad (Paloma Lopez). Both of these performers are laid-back and appealing throughout their adventures. Incidentally, they also comport themselves as humans – there is no hopping – so we easily relate to them.
An early show highlight exemplifies how friends, despite good intentions, can inadvertently create problems. Frog’s attempt to shoo onlookers away from the pond because Toad is shy about appearing in a bathing suit turns into a burgeoning vaudeville song-and-dance number, with the crowd growing and the song’s chorus getting ever longer. Mouse (Claire Banks), Turtle (Kate James), Lizard (Esther Windt), and the Squirrels/Moles (Allie Crisco, Bella Vitale, and Faith Foley) contribute to the hilarity. The pond itself is wonderfully evoked with a simple swath of blue fabric (manipulated by uncredited Fish) enlivened with sun-glint lighting effects. It then becomes the setting for a comical underwater ballet with a Dixieland-jazz accompaniment.
Meanwhile, Snail (Zach Ulmer) almost crawls away, extraordinarily slowly, with the show. Having been given an errand by Frog, he sets off enthusiastically (though, naturally, at a snail’s pace), singing a country-Western-flavored tribute to his own amazing skills, with a hysterically incongruous Speedy-Gonzalez-style bullet-ricochet sound effect. He shows up throughout the narrative, still on that errand, and after triumphing, delivers a torch song with a big, belting finish.
The amphibians’ woodland friends carry out many of the scene changes and effects, mostly unobtrusively, though the Squirrels double as mischievous forces of nature – flinging about orange leaves, then tiny white snowflakes, in their big fuzzy orange hats, huge furry tails, and matching plaid shirts. These outfits, the Birds’ glittery finery, the natty duds of the title characters (and Toad’s fashion-backward bathing suit) – all the creatures’ wearables – were provided by professional costume designer Bradley Robert Jensen.
If you’re determined, you could construct lessons from the problems Frog and Toad face. What makes you suffer? Impatience, rampant worry, overindulgence, self-sabotage? How do you stop it? There may be answers somewhere, but they’re not here. In this little world of A Year with Frog & Toad, and hopefully in our big world, too, an understanding friend simply comforts and helps you get through your troubles.
Hale's production, a trimmed-down hour in length, is enjoyable, high-quality theatre in a small package. Seats are few and there’s already a buzz about this one, so buy tickets in advance. To paraphrase a lyric from the show: Rutabagas come from a rutabaga root / And this little show is exceedingly cute.
A Year with Frog & Toad runs in the Studio Theatre of St. Ambrose University's Galvin Fine Arts Center (2101 North Gaines Street, Davenport IA) through May 3, and more information and tickets are available by calling (563)333-6251 and visiting Cur8.com/19339/project/133532.
