Past Reviews

Regional Reviews: Minneapolis/St. Paul

Scarecrow on Fire
Illusion Theater
Review by Arthur Dorman | Season Schedule

Also see Arty's reviews of When We Are Found, Frozen, The Nacirema Society, The Lightning Thief: The Percy Jackson Musical, and Waitress


Dan Chouinard, Kevin Kling, and Stephen Yoakam
Photo by Lauren B. Photography
Have you ever wondered what it was like for Dorothy Gale growing up after living through the trauma of her adventures in Oz? I mean, being responsible for the death of a total stranger in ruby slippers, captivity at the hand of a wicked witch, and the disillusionment of finding that the person you thought was wise and wonderful, all-knowing and all-powerful, is a total fraud? That could do a number on a young person's head, especially one already prone to being discontent as was Dorothy.

Back in Kansas, what can she expect in the way of support from her Auntie Em and Uncle Henry? They seem good-hearted enough (though there's a streak of stern school marm in Em's voice), but what did they know of the world beyond Kansas? Come to think of it, why is Dorothy being raised by her aunt and uncle? What trauma had she already endured that caused her to lose her parents at so young an age?

Then there are her friends left behind, Scarecrow, Tinman, and Lion. How did they fare in Oz after the excitement of their big adventures on the yellow brick road? Did they recover from the ordeal of being carried aloft by flying monkeys and taunted by a wicked witch? Why, on a whim, did that witch nearly immolate poor Scarecrow, an image that, we learn in Scarecrow on Fire, has been seared into Dorothy's subconscious.

Thus came the impulse for Scarecrow on Fire, a delightfully droll and often tenderhearted take on Dorothy, Scarecrow, Tinman, and Lion in their later years. In 2010, Kevin Kling, master of both droll wit and tender heart, wrote a radio play to address these questions, spurred on by the report of newly found silent film footage from 1908 with scenes from the book. At that time, this had been screened in theaters accompanied by live music and the author of "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz," Frank L. Baum, in person to narrate and read the part of the Wizard. Kling's radio play was broadcast in 2010 on Minnesota Public Radio with Simone Perrin, Dan Chouinard, and Stephen Yoakam, along with Kling. Music was provided by the folk-bluegrass sounds of House of Mercy Band, with additional music by Chouinard and cellist Michelle Kinney.

In celebration of its 50th year, Illusion Theater reached out to some of the artists it has frequently worked with over the decades and invited them to present new work in its semi-centennial season. Kling's contribution is this reworking of Scarecrow on Fire for live performance on stage, though it retains the format of a radio play. Kling invited the original players back for another go, and to his astonishment and audiences' great fortune, every one of them said yes. After seeing Scarecrow on Fire, it is understandable why they did so. Who wouldn't want another shot at a project that is clearly a labor of love, delivering an awfully good time for both the artists and the audience?

After opening with the House of Mercy doing a bluegrass rendition of "If I Only Had a Brain," the actors step in to get us up to speed on the travails of these beloved characters. Dorothy has developed wanderlust after spending her adolescence back on the farm Eventually, she winds up in the big, bad city of Wichita. She finds work as a singer, on radio in a show emceed by none other than the Wizard. Her vocalizing is luminous–it's Simone Perrin as Dorothy, after all–but her conversation is salted with the inflection of a film noir tough broad–perhaps a persona we had not identified with Dorothy. She is still unresolved about her past and has a dream about her friend, Scarecrow, who is about to go up in flames.

Scarecrow, who still has some kind of psychic connection with Dorothy, senses that she is in trouble. He summons what remains of the old gang, Lion and Tinman, and they screw up the courage to break the law against gazing in crystal balls, passed after the dust up caused by crystal-ball gazing when Dorothy was among them–fire and water are now forbidden as well. The crystal ball confirms their fears. They decide they must somehow get themselves to Kansas–Dorothy needs them!

In Kansas, the three are separated and each has their own adventure. The Tinman's frequently involves tears that cause his iron suit to rust, Lion becomes a star attraction in a circus, and Scarecrow winds up in the big, bad city of Wichita, where he discovers the power of art. Dorothy has frequent headaches, for which she sees a specialist, but it's no use. The show shifts back and forth between characters, taking pause for another song by House of Mercy. The music is of a peaceable nature that puts the story in a context of ease, washing away any stresses that were dogging my head when I started out the evening.

While they play, clips of that 1908 film footage are screened at the back of the stage. Those clips don't always seem to be depicting scenes from The Wizard of Oz that I am familiar with, but the images are keenly inventive and amusing, with a hefty dose of slapstick. The overall effect of the music, film, and earnest portrayal of the characters, with their tongues firmly in their cheeks, brings to mind the experience of sitting (or bouncing) through acid rock concerts back in the day. The word that popped into my head was "trippy"–in a good way, and without the aid of external substances. Act I ends with Perrin's Dorothy offering a gently poignant "Over the Rainbow," and we know that, though she's been to Oz and back, gushing with affirmations about never leaving home again when she was reunited with Aunty Em and Uncle Henry, the truth is that she is still seeking the end of the Rainbow.

Kling is a joy, his goodness beaming through as he narrates and portrays the Scarecrow, blithely demonstrating that, indeed, he was the one with the brains. Stephen Yoakam has his hands full switching off between Lion and the Wizard, and picking up another half dozen bit characters as well. As Lion, Yoakam gives his own stamp to the burlesque of courage made famous by Bert Lahr in the 1939 movie. Chouinard is a work of beauty as the Tinman, so earnest that if you looked up "earnest" in the dictionary, you would see his picture, and he makes the serious-minded character's heart all the more tender. As noted before, Perrin is a complicated Dorothy, still the girl searching for her place in the world, but able to draw on a tough persona to protect herself from that same world.

Scarecrow, Lion, Tinman, and Wizard identify themselves by the hat they wear, and, for all but Scarecrow, who is notably in a costume, by the shade of their ordinary apparel–a tawny colored suit for Lion, a grey tone for Tinman–perfect! Zamora S. is the adept costume designer. The stage set, designed by Joseph Stanley, is precisely what it needs to be, an old-time radio studio, complete with an "Applause" sign on one side–as if the terrific work by all involved doesn't prompt its own applause–and on the other side, a sign that lights up to read either "On the Air" or "Stand By." Alice Endo's lighting matches the color and brightness on stage with the action in the story, while C. Andrew Mayer's sound and video–those film clips more than a century old included–add a multi-dimensional element to the show that kind of explains why Baum's book was not called "The Wizard of Oz," but the "Wonderful Wizard of Oz." It's all the elements, human and technical, working in harmony under the spell of director Michael Robins, that lift the enterprise up to the tier of "wonderful."

Scarecrow on Fire is an absolute joy, and leaves anyone lucky enough to see it with a belief in the possibility of a world where days can be sweetly funny, gently ironic, and inventively joyful. If we can't have whole days of such bliss, at least take advantage of the couple of hours offered as part of Illusion Theater's 50th–and wish them many more.

Scarecrow on Fire runs through May 4, 2025, at Illusion Theater, Center for Performing Arts, 3754 Pleasant Avenue South, Minneapolis MN. For tickets and information, please call 612-339-4944 or visit illusiontheater.org.

Playwright: Kevin Kling; Directed by: Michael Robins; Scenic Design: Joseph Stanley; Costume Design: Zamora S.; Lighting Design: Alice Endo; Sound and Video Design: C. Andrew Mayer; Stage Manager: Jeffry A. Alspaugh; Producing Directors: Bonnie Morris and Michael Robins; Associate Producer: Tree O'Halloran.

Cast: Dan Chouinard (Tin Man/Newspaper Man/Toto/Nurse), Kevin Kling (Scarecrow), Simone Perrin (Dorothy), Stephen Yoakam (Lion/ Dry Goods Man/Guy/Man/Wizard/Doctor/Lab Tech).

Musicians: Dan Chouinard (Piano, Keyboard), Michelle Kinney (Cello), The House of Mercy Band: Chris Larson (Vocals, Acoustic Guitar), Jeremy Szopinski (Baritone, Electric Guitar), Angie Talle (Vocals), Doug Trail-Johnson (Vocals, Mandolin).