

Throughout, the six-member offstage orchestra, conducted by pianist Daniel Thomas, lends considerable style.

This includes a leafy painted canopy that morphs into a froggy monster that looms large in Frog’s imagination (Kevin Rittner’s otherwise clean sound design booms overloud when the monster speaks).

(Among the five-member cast, Landman, Elizabeth Brackenbury and Jennifer Clinton play multiple roles, as cheeky birds, moles, squirrels and other assorted characters.)Ĭostume designer Nadine Parkos’ quirky clothing, not plushy animal parts, nicely define each character, and the action is framed by lighting designer Jeremy Pivnick’s subtle shadows and colorful skies and Daniel L. Snail’s months-long trek to deliver a letter is a running joke and the physically slight, big-voiced Landman turns out to be a mite too welcome a show-stealer as he enlivens the production with devilish glee.Īs the musical wends its way through the seasons and Lobel’s simple tales, Frog and Toad bake cookies, rake leaves, take a dip in the pond and fend off various furred and feathered smart-alecks. That Stiles and director-choreographer Kay Cole might dig a little deeper is underscored by moments like Cearlock’s poignant solo, “Alone,” and Jeffrey Landman’s comic turn as a snail with delusions of speed. Stage veteran Cearlock is the embodiment of mild, introspective Frog, but edgier Stiles, while tickling the youngest funny bones in the audience with some broad physical comedy, hasn’t found his inner “Toad.” His superficial emotive responses keep Cearlock at a figurative arm’s length. Weak chemistry between the two leads, Gary Cearlock as Frog and Danny Stiles as Toad, is partly to blame. But tender and humorous observances of enduring affection and the passage of time, while well sung, are missing the resonances that would recommend the show to adults sans kids in tow.
