The cast of “Into the Woods” leads the audience through a winding path of fairytale, song, and moral dilemmas. (Photo courtesy of Mary Clemens)

Inspired by the fairytales of the Brothers Grimm, Washington University’s Performing Arts Department’s-rendition of the musical “Into the Woods” is a winding narrative of desire and discontentment. It’s a narrative of the wishes we dare to dream, and the consequences of their coming true. 

The narrator (Dylan McKenna) details a storybook world connected through the plight of a childless baker (Alexander Hewlett) and his wife (Isabel Koleno) in their quest to undo the curse of a witch (Amanda Sherman). Along their way, they stumble upon Cinderella (Nina Silverstein), Little Red Ridinghood (Brenna Jones), Jack — yes, of the beanstalk — (Eli Bradley), as well as a cast of other characters on their journey through the woods. 

With a set as lively and intricately executed as the show itself, one is transported to a world of possibility and mystique as the curtain is drawn open and reality fades away. Trees are the main focus of the woods: thick branches that enable characters to lose themselves and be found anew. 

They provide a layer of mystery as well, allowing various characters to prance about the wood and stumble upon the drama of another’s life as they eavesdrop from the pervasive veil of darkness. 

“Into the Woods” forces the audience to peer into our own humanity. We may all enter the woods well-meaningly, but what transpires there is often vague and indiscernible. To kiss the handsome prince while your husband tries in vain to capture a giant? Who are we to advise the poor Baker’s Wife — without a name of her own, or to blame the Witch as she torments Rapunzel by cutting off the lengths of her golden hair? She was driven mad herself by the fair maiden’s naiveté, after all; her willingness to invite the wickedness of the world into her castle.

In the second act, the audience is asked where morality begins and ends: who is worthy of goodness and forgiveness? We’re reminded that it’s human nature to make mistakes, and that others, in all their imperfection, may as well. 

This dilemma is returned to the audience, as it is the characters in the tale, in a later verse of Act 2’s “No One is Alone,” “Witches can be right, Giants can be good/ You decide what’s right/ You decide what’s good.” “Into the Woods” is a story that demands we travel into ourselves.

Enhanced by lively choreography and astute comedic timing, the show reminds the audience  that the complexity of life can be met with humor; that joy and suffering can and should exist alongside one another. 

Despite having nearly lost her Grandmother’s (Samantha Campisi) life and that of her own to the wolf (Martin Ibarra), and having lost her Mother in the chaos that ensued, Little Red Riding Hood remains vulnerable and witty until the curtains come to a close. She’s the voice of reason when Cinderella turns to her animal friends in a moment of crisis, attempting to kill the giant who rendered Little Red orphaned. Instead of simple despair, the girl queries the princess incredulously, “You can talk to birds?” The audience is grateful to share in a laugh here. 

Rapunzel’s Prince (Andre Harte) and Cinderella’s Prince (Martin Ibarra) also bring comic relief each time they set the stage. The brothers bask in their suffering together, during Act 1’s “Agony,” sharing in their plight of chasing women just out of their grasp. 

They question their self-worth in response, and without a tone of self-mockery, wonder: “Am I not sensitive, clever, well-mannered, considerate, passionate, charming, as kind as I’m handsome and heir to a throne?” The two eventually resign themselves to all of these things, and decide “These girls must be mad.” Amidst the chaos and uncertainty of the woods, an air of lightness and humility can only serve as assets. 

As the show concludes, it proves to end as it began: with the command of the audience to journey into the woods themselves during the second act’s “Finale.” A quick instrumental tempo and the hushed, yet passionate, collective whispering of the company as it sings work to create a familiar tension, gaining in volume with the lines “Into the woods you go again/ You have to every now and then.” They acknowledge the dangers the woods may pose: the wolves, witches, and various woes one may stumble upon while thick in its branches. 

Whether that be into the woods or to Edison Theater to view the production — begin the journey. “Into the Woods” can be seen until Oct. 30.