This is the hardest review I’ve ever written for Fringe because I’m twenty-five and I think I’m the exact sort of cynical adult that the Little Prince would rightly deride. I tried hard to engage with the production, I really did, but I was not able to give in to the sense of childlike wonder that this piece encourages. And that’s… sad to me.
The silhouettes were neat to watch and helped add to the sense of fantasy. The use of shadows was creative, and I really enjoyed the good morning/good night bit with the string lights around Transe’s neck. Transe’s performance, by the way, was very enjoyable and my favorite of the production – he has really great energy and commitment.
The Little Prince’s insights are often witty and sometimes thought-provoking.
I have not read the original story, but this appears to be a very faithful adaptation.
At times, the show could get static. With such little movement, some of the encounters the Little Prince had felt too long.
Also, this show is billed as a “sensory experience,” but I never felt like the production went as far as it could have with the concept. Most of the time, we were watching motionless shadows and listening to dialogue with the occasional dance transition, sound cue, or projection.
I do think the message of this show is valuable, but it’s one that I’ve been inundated with my whole life and I’m currently in my rebellious phase with it for… reasons that don’t need to be delved into here. This is very much a subjective response, I know, but I can’t help the way I feel and I don’t want to lie about it. I’ve been putting off writing this review because it gives me an existential meltdown every time I try.
I’m too cynical for a show like this. And that bums me out, really.
