Arden Children’s Theatre presents The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales, adapted by John Glore

Written by Jon Scieszka and illustrated by Lane Smith, Stinky Cheese Man is a satire of classic fairy tales stitched together with a nod to the art and structure of books and storytelling itself, featuring a narrator sassed by his own characters, an unmoored Table of Contents, and uniformly unsettling endings. There are no transformations, triumphs, or romance in tales like The Tortoise and the Hair, The Really Ugly Duckling, The Other Frog Prince, and The Stinky Cheese Man. (These nostalgic Redditors are split on whether the titular miasmic diary golem was terrifying or hilarious; I am firmly in the latter camp.)

True to the Stinky Cheese spirit

The Arden’s playbill honors the book, with welcome letters from producing artistic director Terry Nolen and Stinky Cheese director Steve Pacek playing with font, spacing, address, and orientation in the cheeky style of the original.

The opening number is a delightful spoof of Handel’s Messiah and the sky-high energy continues from there. The show boasts an extremely game ensemble of just five actors: Taysha Marie Canales, Robi Hagar, Lee Minora, Matteo Scammell, and Leah Walton.

Pacek’s direction infuses each vignette with delightfully specific character. From Minora’s negging frog (prince?) bro to Canales’s lugubrious Cinderrumpelstiltskin to Scammell’s obliviously incorrigible Stinky Cheese Man, and Walton’s testy Little Red Hen straight out of South Philly, everybody shines. Hagar does yeoman’s work as a harried narrator trying to outsmart a giant (Jack’s Bean Problem) without giving up his dreams of rap stardom. A deadpan stagehand (assistant stage manager Amelia Kovach) facilitates the perfect metatheatrical touches that honor the stories’ constantly crumbling fourth wall.

Smart design for Stupid Tales

Chris Haig’s set has sightline gaps to juice the comedy from backstage (plenty of action spills into the aisle, too). A circus theme fits the sinister, seedy zaniness of Lane’s Picasso-worthy, collage-style illustrations, and large original cartoons specifying the Fairly Stupid Tales are no doubt helpful for the uninitiated. There’s a large, ingenious puppet Giant, and physical letters crash and swirl like they do in the book. Asaki Kuruma’s funny, agile costumes revel in details like the platform stilettos of Scammell’s frog-courting princess. Minora’s voluminous Chicken Licken pantaloons are a hoot (a cluck?). Sound designer AJ Bloomfield adds atmospheric rumbles, multifaceted flatulence, and buzzing flies I wanted to swat.

The Arden’s upstairs Arcadia Stage is the perfect size to give room to the show’s musical and fantastical elements while still feeling intimate enough to set a forest of little hands waving when the actors turn to the audience.

A crappy ending

I was confused by the ending, and had to do a little research when I got home. I didn’t recall the spoof of the Boy who Cried Wolf (in this telling, it’s “cow patty”, making for a stinky end), but it turns out a 10th anniversary edition of the book (published the year I graduated high school and swore off babysitting) is updated with this story.

I should have made sure I was up to date on the literature before attending the show, but I still felt its wildly scatological final number isn’t worthy of book’s sly, surprising comedy—and it didn’t draw the same laughs as the actors’ character work. If your kids aren’t already obsessed with fart jokes, they will be after attending playwright John Glore’s adaptation.

Stinky Cheese you’ll want to catch

During a quick talk-back at the end, enthusiastic youngsters asked some questions I had been wondering myself. When asked which character is his favorite to play, Scammell said “I feel powerful as the princess.” Opening up to the kids about the process of theater and a little backstage magic is another great way to honor the spirit of the book.

This 70-minute production is a charmer, and a worthy ticket for anyone who loves the book. The adults around me laughed as much as the kiddos, and unlike the denizens of Scieszka’s stories, you will want to catch The Stinky Cheese Man.

Recommended for ages 5 and up.

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