Review: Pieni merenneito

Underwater fantasy and stage charisma: HKT’s The Little Mermaid

On HKT’s hill, families, young and old, mothers, fathers, grandfathers, and enthusiastic starry-eyed girls and boys escape the rain indoors. And one cynical thirty-five-year-old who, due to his work stress, wondered if this Disney’s Finnishized magic could break this incipient autumn blues. Well, the blues was replaced by Alan Menken’s classic tunes, which bring a smile to your face for many reasons. (Sometimes I’ll explain musically why Part of your world is such a good song.) The original Little Mermaid was released when I was five years old. The girl next door had a VHS of it, and I borrowed it from her all the time; when he got bored, I took 80% of my weekly allowance to a nearby R-kioski, which always borrowed the same video for a few days at a time. At the age of 12, I got my first Ariel toys, my favorite was a seashell that bubbled in the bathtub with the help of a bubble tablet. (How many 12-year-olds buy effervescent tablets with their weekly allowance?)

Ariel is the creator of the generation. She is indeed the first Disney princess to do her own thing, to break the chains between her and her father. On the other hand, she is also the princess who physically tears her body for a man (and after all, the original H. C. Andersen story is full of melancholy and impossible). The story can be read from so many angles: whether she is the first feminist princess or yet another figure agonizing under the yoke of patriarchy, I don’t know. What I do know is that she was the first Broadway Disney princess: before that, princesses sang with a classical singing technique. The change in voice formation in the animated film was the girlhood of a new generation, who dares to sing high and loud, belting with a chest voice instead of chirping classically like a bird. That’s what I identified with when I was younger: Ariel was a singer just like me. And I felt from an early age how tragic it is to lose that voice: Ariel’s threat was concrete and frightening. (I still haven’t found a friend who would make me do one.)

HKT’s Broadway musical version is energetic, visually stunning and sounds great. The washable professionals on stage hit the home run again: even the cynical three-five has no choice, but is admirable, ridiculous, enjoyable. The musical itself rewrites the plot of the film in some respects: the plot twist of Ursula being transformed into a vamp singing in Ariel’s voice is omitted, and time is saved for building the chemistry between Ariel and Prince Erik. However, the second act is like the second half of the movie: it’s nice, but when you have the first act, the underwater world where all the dreams of girlhood are possible. Why is Ariel loved? She wants the same thing we want, but the other way around: Ariel wants to go from the sea to land, but most of the audience would like to go to an underwater fantasy. (Regina Spektor makes this change concretely in her music video Small Bills.) That’s why the first act of the play is definitely the more interesting for us escapades, romantics like the second act better.

HKT’s version is a celebration of collaboration and theatre work: hats off to the one who made this team of almost 80 people work so seamlessly. Reita Lounatvuori’s translation works perfectly: after all, it is now nicer to listen to how someone is “in love” rather than “she’s in love”. This is how musicals should be translated!

The main couple Ariel (Sonja Pajunoja) and Erik (Martti Manninen) are the most balanced and complementary musical couple on the stage of the Helsinki City Theatre. The voices of Pajunoja and Manninen sound together beautifully, but not merging, but supporting each other. Both have a magnificent instrument, Pajunoja a strong and bright soprano, Manninen a chocolatey tenor. Usually, one of the main roles is taken by one of the couples: this couple (even in real life) knows how to highlight the other when the need arises, and takes their own space with professionalism and charisma when given. The result is a captivating synergy. If the other roles are great additions to the plot arc, the collaboration between the two is the backbone of the entire musical.

Tero Koponen Sebastian is a charming invertebrate whose role as a kind of strange Cupid’s cherub is entertaining to watch and listen to. Tuukka Leppänen The scooter (I still remember the role as Joonas) is amusing from start to finish: it seems that the musical veteran enjoys fooling around in between more serious roles. Antti Timonen’s and Paavo Kääriäinen’s Kiero and Liero are quite winding, in their choreography and music, and reminded us that the most spine-chilling result is achieved when you put two tenors in a duet. In a good way! Tuomas Uusitalo’s chef is the second act’s own play-within-a-play, and the manic sadist’s cackling on stage does not stop until everyone in the audience laughs, at themselves and the whole society. Laughter is a recognition mixed with horror, and in the back of my mind there is guilt about the food industry, overfishing of the seas, climate change. Now I didn’t eat the salmon soup from this week: I made vegetable soup. Mikko Vihman Triton is a slightly softer version of the film’s stern father, and I have to admit that Vihma, who sings handsomely throughout the musical, is also eye candy with her bare chest.

And then there’s this diva, this parasite of the dream society, this role model for all kinds of young people: Ursula, who is wonderfully interpreted by Sanna Saarijärvi, who channels Ulla Tapani just right, and steals attention in the same way as Ursula Ariel’s trust. When Ursula slipped onto the front stage, I swear I saw the adults shrink a little back. Ursula’s tentacles have eight, uh, tentacles? who also live with us: you could say that Lava-Ursula has literally nine people and self-confidence behind her. Ursula’s magnificent performance is a real magic of live theatre, and it’s really hard to be happy that this magnificence is drowned in defeat towards the end of the play. Plus Saarijärvi’s wonderful song! Could Ursula get her own spin-off musical? Or even a talk show?

I was especially pleased with the Ariel sisters, i.e. the play’s female ensemble. The ladies sound great together, and their chemistry and sound together is a feel-good recipe that deserves more opportunities. Why aren’t there more female ensemble numbers in musicals?

All in all, I left the theatre with a smile on my face and familiar songs playing in my head. Although admittedly, the lyrics were one of those 90’s gems: “Mussels jam, don’t remember mommy. So in the waves!”

For whom: children and the child-minded (and maybe even those cynical three-fives)

Don’t look if: you don’t have childhood memories or imagination

Please send me after the performances: a pair of seagull shoes, please.