Come From Away Will Stop the World at Guthrie Theater and Transport You to Where The World Has Come Together

The cast of Come From Away Photo by Dan Norman

This was my fourth time seeing Come From Away (fifth if you count the Apple TV version), and somehow it keeps hitting harder. There is something very, very special about this show. My first two experiences were the original tour at the Orpheum, where the cast was dropping like flies from COVID and reinforcements were being flown in from all over the country, touring casts, Broadway understudies, maybe even a few folks who had just recently left the show and still knew the tracks. Which, honestly, feels completely in the spirit of Come From Away. Then came the Ordway’s chance to host the tour. Now the Guthrie gives us the first local production, and it’s my favorite of the bunch. If you’ve never seen it, now is the time.

If you somehow don’t know it, the show tells the true story of nearly 7,000 airline passengers diverted to Gander, Newfoundland, on 9/11, and the small town that took them in. Yes, it deals with that day, but this isn’t a downer. It acknowledges the trauma, but also shows us the resilience and compassion that saw us through that dark time. You’ll feel the weight of it, but I assure you this is a musical that uplifts the audience. The painful moments come, but the emotions we feel are cathartic.

The Cast From Come From Away Photo by Dan Norman

Why does this production outshine the Broadway touring productions? I think there are a couple of things at play here. First is that, as powerful as the show has been since its first performance, the kindness and selflessness at its heart feel all the more profound given the current trajectory of the world. I grew up hearing my parents and people of their generation talk about where they were when JFK was assassinated. For my generation, that cultural touchstone is 9/11. At a time when the world often feels divided, seeing this moment, when people came together to support one another, lands with even greater impact. There are also scenes that touch on our darker tendencies, including the seeds of xenophobia that 9/11 planted. But it never loses sight of what people can be at their best.

This is a show about community, a community that comes together to take in these stranded souls. The community of Islanders and those “from away” that forms over the five days in which they are thrown together. You see it in the way actors flew in from all over the country during that first tour visit at the Orpheum. And maybe community is another reason this production is so great. I look around the stage and see all of these people I’ve been watching, writing about, and sometimes even interviewing over the last seven years. I see the community I’ve become a part of. It’s our community telling this story now, and that adds something extra. I see actors I’ve followed and sung the praises of, bringing this show to life. I’m moved, as always, by their talent. There is the added thrill of seeing some of them at the Guthrie for the first time.

Local favorites making their Guthrie debuts include Matthew Hall, who must be on leave from Guys and Dolls out at Chanhassen, where he brought the house down with his performance of “Sit Down, You’re Rockin’ the Boat.” He’s terrific here as well. We also have Kate Beahen and Jennifer Grimm, both stellar in their Guthrie debuts.

Then there are familiar local favorites like Eric Morris, who is terrific as the Mayor; Katie Bradley, Jon Hegge, Jim Lichtscheidl, Ann Michels, and a seriously unrecognizable Angela Timberman. The cast is just amazing, including some out-of-towners, especially Soara-Joye Ross as Beverley, one of the airplane pilots.

I have to hand it to the Guthrie’s Resident Casting Director, Jennifer Liestman, not just for finding the perfect cast, but for giving so many of our local favorites their Guthrie debuts. We only have three non-locals in the cast, and they are perfect in their roles: Soara-Joye Ross, Evan Balasubramaniam, and Justin Keyes.

Director Kent Gash keeps the whole thing moving at breakneck speed. It runs without intermission, and from the moment it starts, it doesn’t stop to breathe, except for a brief technical hiccup right after “In the Bar/Heave Away,” but they reset and jumped right back in. Honestly? Since “Heave Away” is one of my favorite moments, it felt like a bonus round. No complaints here

Before I sign off, I have to acknowledge the musicians and Musical Director J. Oconer Navarro. If you are one of those low-down weasels who slinks out during the curtain call, I’ll warn you not to this time. Seeing the band join the cast onstage and get some appreciation as they jam is the cherry on top of this delicious musical. And while I’m on the subject, I’ll just say this: I think it’s a classless thing to leave without applauding the performers who just spent an evening doing their best to entertain you. Stay, clap, be a decent human. I have to go home and usually stay up writing until the review is done and posted, and I would never consider behaving like that. Just had to say it, its been building up for a while, and Come From Away inspires that kind of cathartic release.

Come From Away uses music to weave a tapestry that taps into our collective trauma and allows us to face it through the humanity of people forced together, who rose up and found the best in themselves. There is a running bit where the Newfoundlanders say you’d do the same. Would I? would you? I’m guessing yes. Would our country? absolutely not. I think we would have in 2001, but Trump would likely refuse to let any plans land in the US if this happened elsewhere. Come From Away runs through August 9th at the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis. For more information and to purchase tickets go to https://www.guthrietheater.org/whats-on/come-from-away/

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My Antonia Reveals Itself in World Premiere as a Beautiful New Musical at Theater Latté Da

Will Dusek and Sara Masterson Photo by Dan Norman

The World Premiere of the new musical My Ántonia at Theater Latté Da is one of the best new musicals I’ve seen in some time. Intimate, inviting, full of memorable songs, and featuring a knockout cast, this feels like a show that should have long legs. It opens with the audience feeling like part of the show, with cast members standing among us as they set the scene of the Nebraska prairie of the late 1800s. We hear the birds and the crickets, the sounds of nature coming alive as the cast sings the prologue.

The novel, which is told in the first person and is semi-autobiographical, translates surprisingly well to the stage. In order to maintain that first-person perspective, we have the main character, Jim, run into Willa in a bar in New York City. They reminisce about the old days, and in particular Ántonia. We then flash back to Jim, recently orphaned, on a train from the East to live with his grandparents in Nebraska. On the train is the Shimerda family, immigrants from Bohemia who will be his neighbors. Young Jim befriends their daughter Ántonia, who is a couple of years older than him. They spend their days together, and he teaches her to speak English. They have a beautiful song that deals with their introduction and the beginning of Jim teaching her the language, called “Name, What Name.” It is the first inkling that the music in this musical might be something special.

We see the characters at different stages of their lives, with Jim and Ántonia being played at different ages by three different pairs of actors. What worked extremely well was the framing device of the forty-something Jim and Willa, who pop in and out of the narrative throughout the show. It allows us the emotional connection that comes as the characters move forward from memory into the present. Who among us cannot relate to thinking back on the past, to that person who slipped away out of our lives, the one we see now that could have been the one we were destined for? We feel certain of it now, but there was usually a reason things went another way. Still, when it comes to memory, nothing is quite as emotionally potent as unrequited or unexpressed love.

This is one of those shows where the cast is so good that if you try to limit how many performers you’ll mention, you won’t even get to Sally Wingert and Bradley Greenwald, who in supporting roles do what they are so skilled at doing, punching those small moments, those little asides, just perfectly. With two of The Stages of MN favorites, Tom Reed and the limitlessly talented Em Adam Rosenberg, as the older Jim and Willa, in a genuinely funny scene beginning the tale, you realize that you’re going to have to breeze through the performers or you’ll be up all night. For the record, Reed and Rosenberg are outstanding; both bring the emotions home in the final moments of the show that, yep, had ol’ Rob in tears again. Damn you, Rosenberg. Every time, really? Honestly, is that necessary?

Right out of the gate we have Lillian Hochman and Maddox Tabalba, who play the youngest Ántonia and Jimmy. Hochman is probably older than the 14 she appears to be, but I’m fairly certain that Tabalba is in the ballpark of young Jimmy’s age, which I’d guess to be 12 to 14. These two are stunningly good. As the young adult Ántonia and Jim, we have Sara Masterson and Will Dusek, who again are just terrific. Add to that Anna Hashizume, and it’s a who’s who of my “must-see” list.

The music and lyrics are by The Kilbanes, whom I’d never heard of, but who clearly should be writing musicals. I was especially impressed by their willingness to venture outside of the period for inspiration. The prairie songs sound different from the town songs, and one song, “Saturday Night Me,” had a subtle ’50s rock ’n’ roll feel to it. It’s about the young people letting loose at the dance hall, and the style is like a shorthand to the audience to convey teenagers coming into their own. I hope this show goes on, I think it has the potential to go beyond regional theater. I, for one, would love to have a cast recording of it. There were several songs that I instantly wanted to be able to hear again.

My Ántonia runs through July 12th at Theater Latté Da in North Minneapolis. For more information and to purchase tickets go to https://www.latteda.org/my-antonia It’s not often that you get a new musical that works this well, don’t miss your chance to see it!

The Most Happy Fella a Joyful and Moving Musical Bursting With Life From Ten Thousand Things

Suzie Juul and Pedro R. Bayón Photo by Glen Stubbe

“If there is one theater company in the Twin Cities that I trust enough to go into a show blind with zero reservations, it’s Ten Thousand Things (TTT). I knew nothing but the title and the cast when I stepped into the makeshift theater-in-the-round space at Hennepin Avenue United Methodist Church, one of almost two dozen venues in which they are performing The Most Happy Fella. Adapted into a musical by Frank Loesser in 1956 from a 1924 play named They Knew What They Wanted by Sidney Howard, it doesn’t feel 70 years old. I would not have been shocked to learn it was a new work. But then, that’s kinda what TTT does, they make whatever they are doing feel new. The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical-comical-historical-pastoral, scene indivisible, or poem unlimited: Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor Plautus too light. For the law of writ and the liberty, these are the only men and women. Yeah, they give good Shakespeare too!

The Most Happy Fella opens in a restaurant at closing time in San Francisco. The two waitresses, Cleo and her friend, are commiserating over their aching feet, the lack of tips, and the lecherous boss they have to fend off. Cleo’s friend receives a jeweled tie pin as a tip, along with a note from a man named Tony, who, not knowing her name, calls her Rosabella and asks her to send him a postcard. The scene then jumps to four months later in the Napa Valley, on Tony’s grape farm, where he receives his latest letter from his Rosabella. She has sent him a photograph, and he prepares to send her one as well. The problem is she is a young and beautiful woman; he is a much older man who does not consider himself handsome. At the last minute, he switches his photo for one of his handsome young foreman, Joe. A little while later, she has agreed to marry him and is arriving on the train. Tony is frightened that she will be angry with him for his deceit. On the way to pick her up at the station, he has an accident and breaks his leg. Rosabella, at first, upon learning of the switch, is determined to leave before realizing that she has no money and no place to go back to, and so she agrees to marry the injured Tony. Tony senses she is unhappy and sends for her friend Cleo, offering her a job where she never has to stand again, so that Rosabella will have a friend.

Tony is played by Pedro R. Bayón as a man full of life and happiness who loses his way for a bit after the accident. With the guilt of his misrepresentation, he thinks he can finally see himself through Rosabella’s eyes and believes his dreams were absurd. What shines through is his innate kindness and genuine love for Rosabella, and as he convinces himself that she couldn’t love him, she begins to love him. Bayón is the heart and soul of the production, to be sure. Before the dawn, he experiences his darkest moments, but his heart and love win out over meaner emotions. It is a moment that brought this reviewer to tears, and I felt a genuine connection with Bayon’s Tony.

This is one of those casts where you cannot pick a favorite, as everyone is so good, and there are slightly too many in the cast to talk about them all individually. Several of the cast members also play instruments during the musical numbers under the music direction of Isabella Dawis. The music in this show seems to live in a space between opera and musical theater, though leaning heavily toward the musical theater end of that spectrum. At times, even though you are sitting in a large, brightly lit room in a church in Minneapolis, you swear you can almost smell the aroma of Italian dishes being prepared for the wedding banquet and feel the sun on your face, surrounded by Tony’s vineyard. Though the cast is only seven actors, it feels like you are part of this vibrant community, especially during songs like “Standing on the Corner” and “Abbondanza,” where the energy is joyful and bursting with life.

As TTT’s new Artistic Director and the Director of this show, Caitlin Lowans finishes her first season with this triumphant production. It’s the start of a new era for TTT, and I’m now entirely confident that all of these precious ten thousand things are in good hands. Joyful and moving doesn’t just describe this show, but this theater company itself.”—

A Most Happy Fella runs through June 7th at various locations around the Twin Cities. For more information such as locations and to purchase tickets go to https://tenthousandthings.org/

The Stages of MN delivered straight to your inbox. It’s the best way to make sure you never miss out on the theater action. To subscribe on a computer, enter your email address on the home page (right-hand side) and click subscribe. On mobile, scroll to the bottom of the page to find the same option. You can also follow me on Facebook @thestagesofmn and on Instagram thestagesofmn.

What the Constitution Means to Me is a Sobering Experience at Artistry

Mackynzie Ganbaatar and Stephanie Cousins Photo by Alyssa Kristine Photography

What the Constitution Means to Me is a relatively recent play, written, I imagine, in response to the first Trump administration by Heidi Schreck. In some ways, it’s a memory play, drawn from Schreck’s experience competing in constitutional debate competitions to earn college money. But as the piece progresses, the character of Schreck sheds her 15-year-old self, and the performance shifts into something more direct, more urgent, as she speaks as her adult self.

Much of the show focuses on women’s rights and abortion, but it also touches on immigration and broader questions of who the Constitution actually protects. Watching it now, it’s hard not to feel that if it were written today, it would go even further, because things have gone even further.

There’s a moderator, played here by Dan Hopman, and at the end the structure breaks open. The actor playing Schreck, Stephanie Cousins, drops the role, introduces herself, and brings out a local student debater. They argue whether the Constitution should be abolished, with an audience member serving as the final judge.

It’s sobering. It’s powerful. It’s deeply thought-provoking.

Or at least it was in 2018.

Now, with the benefit, or burden, of everything that’s happened since, it lands differently. Not while you’re watching it. Schreck’s script is laced with humor; it’s engaging, even disarming in the moment. The weight hits later, on the drive home, or when you sit with it. Or, in my case, when you’re asked to be the judge and actually decide.

Both sides make compelling arguments. But as I stood there considering them, I had a sinking realization: it doesn’t matter.

I used to think, naively, that our political divide was about different ideas of what’s best for the country. I was raised in the Christian faith, and thus I aligned myself with Democrats, as they are clearly the party of compassion. Even in high school, I couldn’t reconcile that with what I saw from Republicans. The hypocrisy was obvious to me at fourteen. I never understood how so many people couldn’t see it.

I understand now. People see what they want to see, especially when it gives them permission to believe or do terrible things.

But even after realizing that, I still believed there were guardrails. That the Constitution would ultimately protect us.

It took Trump, someone who doesn’t even pretend otherwise, to shatter that illusion. Someone who openly operates in his own self-interest, who uses power to enrich himself and those around him. A man with no moral compass, a convicted sexual assaulter, and worse. Someone who installs loyalists and media personalities into positions of power precisely because they will do what he says. Someone who, every time he speaks, demonstrates his disregard for the Constitution itself.

And nothing happens.

That’s the realization that settles in: the Constitution doesn’t protect us. It protects those who know how to manipulate it. Those who twist it. And when they can’t, they ignore it, and still, nothing happens. It becomes a tool to maintain power, not to check it.

So I voted to abolish it.

But even that feels futile. Because who writes the new Constitution? The same people who benefit from the current one. The same power structures. The same imbalance.

If this sounds like I didn’t like the show, that couldn’t be further from the truth. I loved it. I think everyone should see it.

But it forces you to think, and right now, thinking leads to some very dark places. Maybe this is just what it means to finally grow up politically: to recognize that the country doesn’t stand for what it claims to stand for. Maybe it never did. And when you see how many people continue to support all of this, it’s hard to believe it ever could.

I don’t know how you overcome that level of willful ignorance and/or evil.

And yet… if there is a way forward, it probably starts with exactly this kind of conversation. With work like this. With people sitting in a room together and actually engaging with these questions.

What the Constitution Means to Me runs through June 7 at Artistry in Bloomington. For more information and tickets go to https://artistrymn.org/constitution

Fefu and Her Friends an Intimate Site Specific Play Staged by Theatre Pro Rata at the Searle Mansion Feels Like Eavesdropping

Christy Johnson, Brettina Davis, Jessica Winingham Photo by: Alex Wohlhueter

Fefu and Her Friends really feels as if you’re eavesdropping on a gathering of friends at the spacious country home of Fefu, played with breezy naturalism by Jessica Winingham. It’s set in the 1930s but written in the 1970s. The characters dress and observe the customs of the earlier era, but much of their behavior reflects the playwright’s feminist perspective. The result feels like a glimpse into how people might have actually behaved outside of literature and film, how longtime friends really spoke to one another and the emotions they allowed themselves to express.

Everything about this production, from the setting to the performances, works to be anti-theatrical, breaking down the barrier between actor and audience. Not through participation (there’s none of that), but through proximity. The audience follows the performers throughout the beautiful Searle Mansion on Lake of the Isles in Minneapolis. Without the usual dividing line between stage and house, the sense of “performance” all but disappears. The actors don’t need to project or exaggerate; we’re sitting close enough to touch them. The result feels more like film acting, subtle, intimate, and immersive.

There isn’t much of a traditional plot, and for once, that doesn’t feel like a drawback. The women have gathered to prepare for a fundraising event, but that’s largely incidental. Instead, we get fragments of conversation, glimpses of relationships, and small revelations. One of the more unusual elements is the character of Julia, whose empathy for animals takes on a surreal and tragic dimension.

The structure is as unconventional as the storytelling. The entire piece runs about 90 minutes. Act One, roughly 25 minutes, unfolds in the living room, introducing the characters. For Act Two, the audience is divided into four groups, each led to a different room in the mansion to watch a short scene. After eight or nine minutes, groups rotate to another room and another scene, until all have been seen. The audience then reconvenes in the living room for a final act of about 25 minutes.

A lot happens in that short span, and yet, in another sense, very little does. M’colleague Jill from Cherry and Spoon remarked that she’d happily watch a 10-episode Netflix series about these characters, which perfectly captures the experience. You’re drawn in not by plot, but by the people themselves. You simply want to spend more time with them. Listening to them talk is the point, and it’s consistently fascinating.

The performances are wonderfully unmannered across the board, and those that lean more theatrical feel intentionally so. Jessica Winingham is excellent as Fefu, evoking a grounded, realistic version of a 1930s screwball heroine. Equally compelling are the quiet interactions between Brettina Davis and Christy Johnson as Cindy and Christina, with Johnson earning a lovely laugh for her character’s peculiar method of drinking, placing a few drops of alcohol on an ice cube and sucking on it.

It’s also nice to see Nora Sonneborn again, though I’ll go on record saying she should be required to sing in every role going forward. As always, great to see Nissa Nordland, and I have to share this revelation I had about her. Though it has nothing to do with her performance in this role, other than the time period, costume, and her hair style. I was suddenly struck with the certainty that in 20 years time, though she’ll still be too young for the role, but with makeup could pull it off, she needs to play Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple. I think some company needs to do an annual Miss Marple play and cast her every year, it’ll be a tradition. She has the slightness of frame, the bird-like profile, that intelligent twinkle in her eye. It’s one of those things, where now that I’ve seen it I’ll never be able to unsee it.

Fefu and Her Friends has an unusual schedule:

May 11, 7:30 PM – Opening Night, Mobility Access Night
May 12, 7:30 PM – Pay What You Can
May 13, 7:30 PM

May 18, 7:30 PM – Pay What You Can, Mobility Access Night, ASL, Audio Description
May 19, 7:30 PM
May 20, 7:30 PM

May 26, 7:30 PM
May 27, 7:30 PM
May 28, 7:30 PM – Closing Performance

For more information and tickets, visit https://www.theatreprorata.org/production-history/fefu-and-her-friends

The Hobbit at Theatre in the Round, the Story You Love Told Like You’ve Never Seen it Told Before.

Issabelle Hopewell as Bilbo Baggins Photo by Richard Hudson

The Hobbit at Theatre in the Round is not what you expect it to be. Those familiar with Theatre in the Round will go in knowing there isn’t going to be a huge animatronic dragon at the end. There isn’t going to be a cast of dozens, in fact, the cast isn’t even a dozen. It’s made up of ten performers, nine of whom are listed as ensemble because they each play multiple roles. Only the main protagonist, the hobbit of the title, Bilbo Baggins of the Shire is given a single, dedicated performer: Isabelle Hopewell.

That’s right, Isabelle. You wanna make something of it?

Fans of IP properties like Tolkien’s Middle-earth can get a little precious about their expectations, so let’s get this straight right out of the gate: this production tells the story of The Hobbit faithfully, but it does so in its own way. If you relax and open yourself up to it, you’ll have a blast. If you’re going to get hung up on the fact that a female actor is playing Bilbo and another is playing Gandalf, then stay home. There aren’t enough tickets to go around as it is, so don’t rob someone else of the chance to enjoy this wildly creative take on the fantasy classic.

This version of The Hobbit begins not long, long ago, but thirty years in our future, and not in a land far, far away, but in the Seven Corners area of Minneapolis. I can already hear the “WTFs?” But trust me, faithful readers: this is a true and faithful telling of the story. It’s just a bit meta.

What we’re watching is The Hobbit performed as a makeshift play by a group filling in for a professional troupe whose caravan broke down and couldn’t make it. But don’t worry, they’ve seen the show many times. They know the story, and they even have some of the props. And while they may be short a few performers, they find inventive ways around that, some of which involve gently wrangling the audience into the action. Don’t worry, Cherry and Spoon, it’s low key group participation.

Coming off what is probably the most impressive display of stage magic I’ve ever seen in Harry Potter and the Cursed Child (and yes, remember to make your donations to Transforming Families https://www.tffmn.org/ to counteract the bad works of J.K. Rowling), this was a nice reminder that theatrical magic doesn’t have to be high-tech to be effective. This show is filled with low-tech, creative solutions to the story’s fantasy elements. None of it will leave you wondering “How did they do that?” but much of it will have you cheering at how clever and funny it is. It doesn’t wow, it delights, which is just another form of theatrical joy.

Oh, and that dragon? I may have misled you. There is a dragon, and it’s more than you expect and exactly what you need it to be.

And that cast, Isabelle Hopewell absolutely Baggins the hell out of the role of Bilbo. Wini Froelich is a fine Gandalf (among several other roles). The entire cast is fully committed, you can tell they’re having a blast, and so is the audience. Several cast members also double as the band.

The band, you say?

Yep. It’s not billed as a musical, but there are several short songs included in the price of admission. Bravo to director Scott Gilbert and his technical staff and designers, they’ve created something that feels truly unique and engaging.

After the last three shows at TRP, all of which were excellent but played to half-full houses, it was a pleasure to sit in a sold out theater. The longest running community theater in the Twin Cities is doing great work, and it’s nice to see them filling seats again.

The Hobbit runs through May 31 at Theatre in the Round in Minneapolis. For more information and tickets, visit theatreintheround.org but hurry, performances are selling out.

Once Upon a Mattress at Lakeshore Players

Once Upon a Mattress at Lakeshore Players in White Bear Lake is a case of the parts being more successful than the whole. It’s ultimately an enjoyable experience, though the musical itself and, to be honest, this production as well, is by no means a must-see. The show has a couple of memorable songs, but there’s a reason it isn’t performed very often. It’s a bit unfocused, though still serviceable. I suspect there’s been some script tweaking, as it felt surprisingly meta for a 1959 musical. I didn’t catch all of the pop culture references, there were definitely allusions to boy bands (a world I know nothing about), and likely other musical nods that went over my head. Younger or more in-the-know audiences may get more out of those moments.

The plot adapts The Princess and the Pea, padded out with enough additions to stretch to nearly three hours, including an intermission. To its credit, it doesn’t feel that long. If there’s a primary issue with this production, it’s likely budget and time, the perennial challenges of theater-making. This is an epic-length musical with a serviceable but bare-bones set design by Justin Hooper. The main set piece, a large staircase connected to a platform upstage that later transforms into the famous stack of mattresses, is an impressive build. However, it seems to have consumed much of the available resources, leaving little room to flesh out the rest of the set. They gamely try and get a lot of mileage out of a large red see through curtain, but it shows. One could argue for a simple, elegant aesthetic, but that doesn’t quite match the tone of this show.

It often feels like what works does so at the expense of something else. The costumes by Sarah Christenson, for example, include some genuinely inspired choices. The Minstrel, played perfectly by Devin Dolquist, is clearly styled after Elton John, and the costume is fantastic. Sir Harry’s look feels like it stepped out of a fairy tale and then got run through a hipster filter, and King Sextimus sports a ’70s Elvis-style white jumpsuit with a cape, another fun touch. But much of the rest of the cast is dressed in either jeans and T-shirts or corsets and bustiers. You get the sense that, with more time and budget, the entire design could have matched the creativity of those standout elements. Instead, the inconsistency contributes to an overall feeling of disjointedness, as though the production never quite comes together as a unified whole.

Thankfully, the cast is consistently strong. The secondary romantic pair, Sir Harry and Lady Larkin, are especially well played by Thomas Friebe and Lizzie Stuebs. They get a standout song in each Act, and both are highlights of the show. Sophia LaFave as Princess Winnifred fully leans into her big numbers, delivering them with just the right amount of attitude. And Maya Vagle as Queen Aggravain, delightfully overbearing and far too attached to her son, is fabulously over-the-top in all the best ways.

Once Upon a Mattress runs through May 17th at Lakeshore Players. For more information and to purchase tickets go to https://www.lakeshoreplayers.org/mattress-season-73