Guest contributor David Appleford gives a grateful glowing green light to Childsplay’s production of RUDOLPH THE RED-NOSED REINDEER.
There’s a certain audacity in taking a beloved stop-motion curio from 1964 and re-dressing it for the stage, as though nostalgia itself were a renewable energy source. Childsplay’s Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer still shimmers with the glow of memory as it polishes it anew, like a cherished ornament you still hang every December.
The affection behind the production is unmistakable: the show is theatrical nostalgia that can be enjoyed by all three generations of the family at once, and for different reasons. Directed with gentle verve by Dwayne Hartford, the heart of the original TV show remains intact, and so does the sincerity. It’s bright, professional, and surprisingly affecting. And even more important, the cast appear to be having a great time performing it.
Adapted by Robert Penola from Romeo Muller’s teleplay (itself inspired by Robert L. May’s 1939 story and Johnny Marks’ immortal song), the show keeps close to its familiar tunes (with the surprise addition of Brenda Lee’s Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree) and the original text, including the show’s best line: “His beak blinks like a blinkin’ beacon!”
We’re again in the snowy expanse of the North Pole, with Sam the Snowman, played with genial warmth by Jon Gentry guiding us through Rudolph’s journey from outsider to unlikely hero as he invites us to “Pull up an ice block and lend an ear.”
You remember every beat: the glowing nose, the dental-minded elf, the Island of Misfit Toys, and the redemptive blizzard that turns rejection into salvation. The script never strays far enough to startle you, but that’s its appeal. The pleasure comes less from discovery than from recognition, and the emotional payoff still works.
Hartford’s direction keeps the sentiment buoyant, never syrupy. He directs with an unpretentious assurance, resisting the temptation to wink, as if knowing he’s handling sacred holiday material. The humor bubbles up easily, even when the Abominable Snowman looms into view.
His cast, many of them Childsplay veterans, inhabit a dizzying carousel of roles and dive in with cheerful professionalism. Wesley Bradstreet gives Rudolph a bright-eyed innocence that never tips into parody. Ryan Ardelt’s Hermey has an anxious, comic charm, and Katie McFadzen’s Yukon Cornelius is a comic gust. She’s half vaudeville, half cartoon gold prospector who all but steals her scenes through sheer comic timing. Beau Heckman’s Santa radiates benevolent authority, and Alyssa Figueredo’s Clarice, all warmth and grace with a wonderful voice, gives Rudolph’s shy heart a believable pulse. Around them whirl Carlos Sanchez Beltran, Gavin Kennedy, Luz Navarro, and Debra K. Stevens, each juggling roles with the speed and precision of a backstage sleight of hand.
Visually, William Kirkham’s lighting makes the production gleam like a freshly wrapped present, a candy-coated marvel that sparkles with invention. Aaron Jackson’s scenic design moves with cinematic fluidity, suggesting a snow globe in motion, like a kind of kinetic toybox where panels shift while scenes roll by. Jake Pinholster’s projections turn the North Pole into a constantly shifting storybook giving the action a cinematic scope the original puppets could never dream of. Connie Furr’s costumes look ready for their own merchandising line, and under Kat Bailes’ light-footed choreography, Bonnie Beus Romney’s musical direction, and Connor Adams’ crisp sound, the songs land with just the right mix of cheer and professionalism, faithful to the TV sound but bigger, brassier, less homespun.
If there’s a weakness, it’s the very thing that makes Rudolph endure: its unshakable sincerity. The message about difference being strength still resonates, but it’s delivered so gently that the edges have been rounded off. Plus, the production never risks sentimentality because it’s already there, safely embedded in the material. What keeps it from floating away in sugar is the cast’s refusal to condescend to the story, which, given its source and its intended audience, many of whom may be experiencing theater for the first time, is truly the only honest way to do it.
The thing to remember is what this live version of Rudolph is not. It’s not just family entertainment. For older members of the audience, it’s a quiet homecoming. After seeing the show with your family, you may find yourselves quietly humming along, not so much out of memory, but from the recognition of how deeply those melodies once lived in you. What this Childsplay production does is tap into something instinctive. Without trying, it summons the spirit of a Christmas past, when you, as a child, may have sat on the living room carpet, watching a stop-motion reindeer blink his way into hearts for the very first time.
In the end, what makes Rudolph endure, even in our irony-soaked age, is that its moral never feels manufactured, and children will thrill to the spectacle. Childsplay’s adaptation, now playing for its fifth consecutive year at The Herberger Theater Center until December 22, may not surprise you in the way it will younger members of the audience, but it doesn’t need to. It’s a show that knows exactly what it is: childhood wonder and a lesson in tolerance that still glows, just like Rudolph’s little red nose in the dark.
For all its cheer, this hugely entertaining production ultimately reminds us why that misfit reindeer, still blinking earnestly, continues to shine bright: it’s a small light that with Childsplay’s annual assistance may never go out.
Photo Credit: Childsplay
