Review: Pieni merenneito

The

Little Mermaid is the City Theatre’s most costly and technically demanding production of all time, yet it has not lost its heart among the theatrical mischief and magic.

The myth of the mermaid who wants to become a human being, familiar in many cultures, has found its way into opera – including Dvorák’s Rusalka – as well as literature and, through H.C. Andersen’s beloved fairy tale The Little Mermaid, has also made its way into popular culture. But does she have any relevance to today’s world?

The animated Disney film The Little Mermaid (1989) leans towards an affirmative answer. This is not least the case in the musical (2007) modelled on it, in which the mermaid Ariel and the human prince Erik can be seen as teenage rebels who refuse to live up to the expectations placed on them and instead choose to break with the ingrained conventions and affirm the foreign and thus forbidden.

And in the long run, the theme is of course highly topical. Young people who are uncomfortable in their bodies, who are uncomfortable in their immediate environment and suffer because of their inability to settle into the roles they have been assigned. However, only a minority of them are able to muster the willpower and energy necessary to break out and, at best, realize their dreams, and in that sense, it is of course a success story.

Sumptuous visual feast

The Little Mermaid is the City Theatre’s most costly and technically demanding production of all time, yet it has not lost its heart among the theatrical mischief and magic tricks. Director Samuel Harjanne and his technical team have, by all accounts, tackled the theatrical challenges with the eagerness of little boys in the candy store and many of the solutions, not least the underwater effects, are astonishing.

Even for the set designer and costume maker, Peter Ahlqvist and Pirjo Liiri-Majava, the task must have been a pipe dream. Although it is difficult to know how much free rein they have ultimately been granted by the copyright holder, it is a lavish visual feast of a rarely seen kind, a veritable fireworks display of colours and shapes.

However, it is not all about noisy thrills. There are also many more intimate moments, where Harjanne lets the emotions swell without turning into sentimentality, while perhaps the most festive scenes of the evening were the seagull and waiter ballets choreographed by Gunilla Olsson-Karlsson with a twinkle in her eye, as well as the underwater calypso.

Alan Menken, Disney’s court composer with eight Oscar statuettes in his cupboard, was praised for the film music and added a number of other fancy numbers to the musical. The end result is functional rather than original, although Menken’s ability to integrate a variety of styles within the framework of the whole and still make it stick together is impressive. Risto Kupiainen and his ensemble
realised the score as elegantly as it was inspired.

Intriguing dominatrix octopus

The married couple Sonja Pajunoja and Martti Manninen were in themselves sympathetic choices for the lead roles, vocally solid if not unforgettable and with a, one might assume, natural personal chemistry. The Sea King Triton (Mikko Vihma) and his naughty sister Ursula – the thought went unsearchingly to Sarastro and the Queen of the Night – were made on the grain and not least Sanna Saarijärvi took the plunge with a vengeance as an intriguing dominatrix octopus.

Making the crab Sebastian, Triton’s court musician and Ariel’s mentor, in the form of a hand puppet and his handler (Tero Koponen) was a logical solution, while 13-year-old Alek Pèrez Lahtinen was festive as Ariel’s skating fishing buddy and Tuukka Leppänen hilarious as the omniscient seagull. Tuomas Uusitalo was hilariously funny as the seafood-loving Chef Louis and Matti Olavi Ranin was just right on the edges as Erik’s guardian Yrjö (Grimsby).

The Little Mermaid has an important message that, despite the performance’s many merits, can sometimes feel a little refined. In good old Disney tradition, it’s still about well-made and enjoyable family entertainment, which for some reason still doesn’t strike the heartstrings in an optimally touching way.