Into the Woods emerged from a collaboration between Sondheim and playwright James Lapine, who had successfully worked together on Sunday in the Park with George three years prior. That musical was a breakthrough for the composer, after the flop that was Merrily We Roll Along (1981), and the two were keen to extend their winning streak. The concept was simple: invent a quest for an ordinary couple, in this case a baker and his wife, and insert them into the world of fairytale characters familiar to childhood. A crucible of archetypes was created, where the disparate stories could bubble away in the collective unconscious.

It opens with a wish, or rather several wishes smashing against one another. The Baker (James Millar) and his Wife (Fiona Choi) wish for a baby; Cinderella (Ava Madon) wishes to go to the ball; Jack (Anthony Craig), of beanstalk fame, wishes his cow would give him some milk. When the Witch (Cherine Peck) from next door bursts in and tells the Baker she has placed a spell of childlessness on the couple, they are forced into the woods in search of various items to lift the curse – items that will lead them into direct conflict with the other characters, and each other. Act One follows the quest to its fulfilment, and the fairytale characters get their wishes; Act Two is much darker, where the consequences of their acts of selfishness and deceit begin to catch up with them.

Watch This Theatre Company is dedicated to the works of Sondheim and has consistently produced work of quality and thoughtfulness, often with the skimpiest of resources. Into the Woods is probably the most challenging work the company has attempted, and while it sometimes feels as if the seams are showing, this clear-eyed production is rewarded for its vaulting ambition. Co-directors Sonya Suares and Melanie Hillman have created a vast allegorical playground for the actors to shine in, and the complex interweaving of plots and character arcs is expertly handled. The cavernous Meat Market, in North Melbourne, space is exploited beautifully. If Sarah Tulloch’s set design and Rob Sowinski’s lighting tends to the twee – this gorgeously photogenic wood feels suspiciously Instagrammable, and not necessarily a frightening or liminal space – they have a terrific functionality, allowing for surprising interactions and lightning-fast transitions.

Lily Baulderstone as Little Red Ridinghood in Into the Woods (photograph by Jodie Hutchinson)

Most of the cast are excellent, and some astonishing. Nick Simpson-Deeks is a wickedly sensual Wolf, and his lascivious Prince is an oily, pompous delight. His duet ‘Agony’ with Rapunzel’s Prince (Raphael Wong, also in fine voice), is a musical highlight, the two pure tenor voices blending magnificently. Millar initially seems flat and emotionally distant as the childless Baker, as if in a fugue; while this may make psychological sense, it isn’t very helpful dramatically, killing the chemistry with the otherwise excellent Choi as his wife. Fortunately, the character grows in stature as the play darkens – the times come to suit the man – and his key plea to a lost father, ‘No More’, is almost unbearably moving. By the show’s conclusion, he has become the beating, if broken, heart of the production, and the finest actor in the role I’ve witnessed.

Lily Baulderstone is a spiky, self-assured Little Red Ridinghood, and John O’May brings a world of weariness and regret to his dual roles: two fathers with poor intergenerational histories. Peck is only intermittently successful as the witch; she does force and righteous anger well, but she isn’t a natural comedian, so the withering asides don’t land as confidently as they could. Choi mightn’t share the most dynamic relationship with her stage husband, but she really shines in moments of self-doubt and self-actualisation. Her ‘Moments in the Woods’, a song that encompasses a royal romp in the grass as well as some sober reflection on fidelity and freedom, is another dramatic highlight.

Madon is a magnificent Cinderella, again the best I’ve seen. It’s a role that can feel colourless – it tends to conform to the contours of an actor’s personality and can seem bland or merely pretty – but Madon brings a boundless sense of gravitas and joy to the part, not to mention a glorious soprano, velvety and warm. She and Millar hold the soul of the production in their hands, handing it backwards and forwards like the swaddled baby they eventually will raise together. Perhaps Watch This might expand beyond their Sondheim repertoire for these two performers: they’d make a superb Eliza Doolittle and Henry Higgins.

Suares and Hillman should be immensely proud of their achievement here. Into the Woods is a fiendishly difficult work to pull off, with its large ensemble cast, its tricky plot mechanics and elaborate staging requirements, and its grand and jaunty score. The band, under the musical direction of Ned Wright-Smith and supervision of Trevor Jones, does a fine job with limited means, although it could have more brightness in the upper registers. The production is brilliantly paced (that three-hour running time whips past) and expertly calibrated, the shifts in tone confidently managed. There aren’t many grand theatrical gestures here – there is a gorgeously homespun, DIY feel about it all – but there is an immense amount of heart and soul. This is the kind of theatre, dedicated and lovingly crafted, that just might see us emerge from those woods re-energised, if not entirely unscathed.

Watch This Theatre Company’s production of Into the Woods, directed by Sonya Suares and Melanie Hillman, is showing at the Meat Market, North Melbourne, from January 15 to January 23.

This review is supported by the Copyright Agency’s Cultural Fund.