Stephen Sondheim wrote the lyrics for Into
the Woods. This is one of my favorite Broadway musicals. Not only is the
storyline so different from the normal fairy tale, but the original cast had
Bernadette Peters (da best) as the
witch. Last year's movie did a decent version of the original play, but much
was left out; I advise you to watch the stage version whenever you have a
chance. The tale melds several well-known fairytales together, and gives incite
into the drive and character of the normally, idealized cast. If you have seen
the TV show Once Upon a Time, the play Wicked or any of the
recent movies—such as Malificent—where the villain is portrayed in a new
light, Into the Woods is likely an inspiration for them.
As in any story, each person has a simplistic,
rigid and set position; there are
the “Baker,” the “Prince,” the “Poor,” and the “Witch.” Each character in the
story goes into the woods to change something in their lives, something
about their position.
Into
the woods
To
get the thing
That
makes it worth
The
journeying.
One by one, as the cast starts
changing things, and they find the change is not what they expected. Sometimes,
you can take the Ella out of the cinders, but you can't take the Cinders out of the Ella, and sometimes Ella doesn't want the cinders to entirely go
away. Characters also find that, with their realized wish, come new
responsibility. How true is this in real life?
Consider potential wishes:
·
We live in probably
the easiest time period our earth has known, and yet we still struggle in every
aspect of life. One of my favorite quotes—and I will be honest, I tell myself
this when I struggle in marriage, parenthood, etc.—is that “the grass is greener on the other side
because it is fertilized with BS manure.” A more biblical approach would
be found in Philippians 4:11. Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I
have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.
Consider potential identity crises:
·
Still wanting to
belong: “Don't be fooled by the rocks that I got, I'm still, I'm still Jenny
from the block” - Jennifer Lopez
·
Impostor feelings:
“He heard students
discussing wealth so casually, it felt fantastical.” Teen goes from homeless
shelter to finishing her first year at Georgetown
Consider potentially rigid narratives:
·
In foster care, I
hear a barrage of noise—these kids simply need to be loved out of their
situations: you got them when they were so young, or you've had them for so
long. Why aren't they...better? So, why is it that in one agency in the
valley, 90% of the kids in HCTC (Higher Therapeutic Care) were adopted as
babies? Careful the things you say...
·
Our narratives do
affect us, but we need to get to really know them. We read past the cover.
Growing up, in my life, several animals did not live past a few months. I still
marvel that my dog has been with us for ten years. More than that, I have been
with my husband for eleven years and I have gone to church for ten years. All
of these things, to a kid who moved practically every year of her life, amongst
other struggles, feel like they go against my narrative. It feels good, but in
a way uncomfortable. The therapists working with my foster kids remind me that
when the kids lash out, it is because our stable environment does not feel
safe. Odd, right?
Into the woods,
It's
always when
You
think at last you're through, and then
Into
the woods you go again
To
take another journey.
As the story
goes on, we find that these roles are much more than outer circumstances.
Towards the end of the musical, the witch has become beautiful on the outside,
but it still objectified for the ugliness that others have judged her to
possess. She still does plenty of wrong, but after a round of everyone blaming
each other for disaster, she interrupts the characters with this ugly truth: they have all caused the disaster. The
other characters want to place a singular blame, and they do not want to hear
this as she blatantly speaks the reality of the situation:
You're so nice.
You're not good,
You're not bad,
You're just nice.
I'm not good,
I'm not nice,
I'm just right.
I'm the Witch.
You're the world.
As Little Red Riding Hood states in an earlier
part of the play, Nice is different than good. And so the Witch accepts
the blame as the outsider of the group, regains her position, and in
frustration (and humility?) takes back humps and claws, as the world rejects
the truth of her speech. Have you felt this way? In the confusingly “tolerant”
world of media, social and otherwise, we are labeling and pushing people into
roles every day.
However, as complex creations of a giant God, we
are not easily labeled. The Baker's wife exemplifies the internal,
individualistic heart issue of their wishes. In one scene, she tackles
Cinderella for her slipper, and then states she didn't tackle her, but she
tackled Cinderella’s shoe. The focus of the wish has made everything else
around the wish lack clarity. In the recent rupture of race talk of the last
few years, my own identity has been messed with—as, over and over, I’ve heard,
“You are white, you are white, you are white, white, white,” like a deafening
Silly Song of Larry (Veggie Tales!)
when he sings about his obsession over lips. If you listen to the song, you will see that
Larry has reason to care about his lips; however, it has isolated and blinded
him to only see the world in terms of lips!
Into the Woods does not resolve the way Disney has
traditionally ended stories, wrapped up in pretty packages. Only when the
characters realize the implications of their wishes, take responsibility for
them, and move from their individualistic positions into community with each
other are they able to defeat the Giant. It ends, at least through my lens of
the world, like real life.
Into the woods to find there's hope
Of
getting through the journey.
Into the woods, each time you go,
There's more to learn of what you know.
Maybe this is really why this is my favorite.
With all the failures and character flaws, and evil being right and good being
wrong, there is a glimmer of real hope. The Jesus Storybook Bible, touts that it “tells the one story underneath
all the stories of the Bible and points to the birth of a child, the Rescuer,
Jesus.” This is really the only narrative that we can lean on. We don't have to
worry about narrators telling the story wrong; we know who is the author and
creator. If we, as children of God, have the same author, the same narrator,
and the same underlying storyline (think Westminster Catechism #: Man's chief end
is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever), then we don't have to have any
identity crises, and we can already celebrate how our beautifully complex,
individual stories are being woven together as a community.
Philippians 2-
Christ's Example of Humility 1 So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from
love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, 2 complete my joy by being
of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. 3 Do nothing from selfish
ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than
yourselves. 4 Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also
to the interests of others. 5 Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ
Jesus,[a] 6
who, though he was in the form of God,
did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, 7 but emptied himself, by
taking the form of a servant,[b] being born
in the likeness of men. 8 And being found in human form, he humbled himself by
becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. 9 Therefore God has highly
exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, 10 so that at the name of
Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 11 and every tongue confess
that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.
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