Capturing the art of extravagance and the sinister relics of the Brothers Grimm, "Rose and the Rime" is no ordinary fairytale. For one thing, it takes place in the "magical" state of Michigan, in a fictional town that hasn't seen the likes of a beach barbeque in years due to the curse of the Rime Witch, who froze the town into a state of constant snow, ice and darkness. The town's last glimpse at youthful warmth comes in the form of Rose (Carolyn Defrin), a sprightly female Where's Waldo, who must save the town from its snowy slumber.
On a sparsely furnished set that requires little more than confetti and a tarp, "Rose and the Rime" charms, teases and thrills audience members with its inventive display of acrobatics, song, dance and musical cacophony – poetic bursts range from a love song played on a free-standing bass to a haunting instrumental played exclusively on wine bottles. Very much anchored on physical movements, "Rose's" choreography is pure, shivery brilliance. Two particular favorites include Rose fighting a forest of sighing tree branches and a simulated pregnancy as told through sock puppets, though there were so many dazzling transformations that even the simplest act, like shoveling snow, became something wondrous. The supporting cast of townspeople was as fanciful as it was fundamental, and each lent an air of spontaneity to the otherwise bleak surroundings. Indeed, once Rose returns from her perilous journey, the townspeople erupt into a frenzy unseen since the days of MTV's Spring Break. But the party doesn't last long, as curses are wont to do, and the people are faced with a new kind of villain: themselves.
The House Theatre of Chicago hasn't lost its touch for playful yearning or decadent theatricality. And "Rose" is one fairytale that you'll definitely want to see live happily ever after.
Reviewed by Centerstage!
Map it