We flew to another country — then drove a long way — to see a revival of “Guys and Dolls.” Is this odd? I don’t care. Loesser’s musical, one of the all-time greats, is essentially a Shakespearean comedy, and so it “works” at the Stratford Festival. In a Shakespeare story, a young man or woman travels to an enchanted place (a forest or island), assumes a false identity for bizarre reasons, then makes a mess. That’s also Sky Masterson. He begins wooing Sarah by pretending certain things are true: a Havana “milkshake” doesn’t really have alcohol, a certain flight to Cuba is really just about finding a decent lunch. Complications ensue. Amazingly, Sky’s conscience begins to wake up. He finds that he cares too much about Sarah to continue pulling the wool over her eyes. At the same time, Sarah notices she has a “well of forgiveness” deeper than the well she’d imagined for herself. A casual remark from a third party points the way toward resolution — just in time. Generally, a succ...
Before Mac Barnett “fell from grace,” he wrote a blog called “Looking at Picture Books.” This did exactly what it claimed to do. Barnett and his friend, Jon Klassen, analyzed old masterworks. They weren’t afraid to touch a nerve; they criticized Barack Obama for repeatedly reading “Where the Wild Things Are” at high-profile events (when other books could have profited from the Obama spotlight). Barnett really, deeply thought about Maurice Sendak. For example, he pointed out that Max, the hero of “Where the Wild Things Are,” doesn’t have any toys. His bedroom is joyless. It’s a bedroom designed by a parent who is struggling. (Indeed, the parent has just sent Max to sleep without having eaten dinner.) Second, Barnett pays attention to Sendak’s use of scale. The initial images are small; we see a good deal of white space. When Max escapes to the land of the Wild Things, the white space disappears. The image even seems to spill *off* the page. Max has found freedom within his ima...