Into the Woods, on the stage, is a lovely and mature tale about accepting responsibility in the darkest of circumstances, filtered through some of the most memorable characters of storybook lore. The film version is less successful at communicating the message that Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine aimed for in the show’s Broadway iteration. This should be an inherently cinematic story, but the decisions to spread the story out among an ensemble, shorten the film to just over 2 hours, and make it a Disney release all end up hampering the material.
Of course, the first problem is that Rob Marshall is the director; though he’s no stranger to the stage nor to movie musicals, his skills as director—based on the Blu-ray extras as much as on the film itself—appear to be as a cheerleader to the cast and crew. His ability to stage and mount sequences, let alone an entire movie, is roughly nil. (The comic highlight of the picture should be “Agony,” in which two handsome princes moan outrageously about their respective love interests giving them the cold shoulder, yet Marshall can’t even frame shots without obscuring his actors’ faces by tree branches.) Most of his creative decisions—for example, not telling Johnny Depp that using Tex Avery as an inspiration for the Big Bad Wolf is a bad idea—put a stranglehold on the film’s potential success. The story of multiple fairy-tale characters, like Cinderella, Little Red Riding Hood, and Jack of beanstalk fame, interacting with each other as they attempt to win their happy endings is muted on film; even with actors like Anna Kendrick, Chris Pine, Emily Blunt, and Meryl Streep, Into the Woods remains mostly inert throughout.
The bright spots—mostly Blunt and Pine—shine through Marshall’s muddle, but the disorder is unavoidable. Trimming the story to be more appealing to mass audiences is all well and good; however, many of the screenwriting choices merely serve to emphasize whatever problems exist in Sondheim and Lapine’s show. Here, for example, Rapunzel is one fairy-tale character too many, as she and her prince appear for barely 10 minutes of the film and disappear almost as quickly. And here, the darkness of the show is dimmed for Disney-friendly crowds. (You could argue that Cinderella’s Prince and the Baker’s Wife merely kiss in the film, instead of something…more, as it is in the show.) On the surface, hiring the director of Chicago to make a fairy-tale musical starring Streep, Kendrick, Pine, and Blunt at Walt Disney Pictures makes perfect sense, at least fiscally. But maybe Into the Woods just wasn’t made to be adapted for the silver screen. Certainly not like this.
A/V
If you’re remotely familiar with Disney’s home-media releases of late, you won’t be surprised that Into the Woods looks and sounds predictably solid. The dark grays and browns of the seemingly infinite woods don’t blend into each other here, causing some kind of indistinguishable visual mess. (This, at least, is a bright spot in Marshall’s otherwise lackluster direction.) And the sound booms—especially during Streep’s numbers, as she’s quite the belter—throughout. Whatever other issues the disc may present, the transfer from big to small screen is suitably excellent.
Extras
This writer has been, for what seems like eons, wishing for the Walt Disney Company to start including more bonus features on its Blu-ray releases. So on one hand, the Into the Woods Blu-ray is something akin to manna from heaven: there are a bevy of behind-the-scenes featurettes focusing on the film’s casting, costuming, sound design, and more; a deleted scene that includes Streep singing a brand-new song written by Stephen Sondheim himself, along with an apologetic explanation from Marshall as to why the scene was cut in spite of being fully filmed; and even an audio commentary with Marshall and his producer, John De Luca.
However. (And yes, there is a “however.”) The commentary track, in particular, doubles down on a most unfortunate comparison Marshall made a few months ago: that this film is meant as a tribute—Marshall’s word—to the trauma we all felt after 9/11. And climate change. And school shootings. And Hurricane Sandy. And, because why not, Hurricane Katrina, too. All of these are invoked in the final third of the commentary track, in a disturbingly sincere manner, by both Marshall and De Luca, neither of whom appear to be aware that comparing a fairy-tale musical—even one with adult overtones—to arguably the greatest American mass tragedy of the last 75 years is unfathomably stupid and offensive. The rest of the commentary falls into the dull category of ultra-positive: everyone is amazing/funny/courageous/fearless/etc., everything was amazing/funny/courageous/fearless/etc., and so on. That may be boring, but it’s less enervating than suggesting this film is a metaphor that no one got.
Overall
If you’re a fan of Into the Woods, the stage show, you might want to steer clear of this disc due to the film feeling much unlike its source. If you loved the movie adaptation, you’ll at least enjoy the feature if not the self-congratulatory extras.
