Some days you just wake up on the wrong side of the bed, and everything that should feel ordinary - like one's home and furnishings and family - suddenly seems off-center and not quite commonplace.
Which explains why the set of Seattle Children's Theatre's stage adaptation of Judith Viorst's perennially popular 1972 book "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day" looks like the interior of a house frozen midway through a magnitude 9 earthquake.
A great slab of Pergo-like laminated flooring rests (somehow) on one long edge at perhaps 60 or 70 degrees from the stage, with bathroom fixtures and a table securely attached to the slanted surface. A miniature version of Alexander's handsome wooden bed hangs upside down in the boy's room. Nothing is level because Viorst's miserable little hero is about as out-of-sorts with his world as he can be.
Alexander (M.J. Sieber, recently seen in SCT's "Bunnicula") wakes up to discover gum in his hair - the first of many minor and major disasters that will make the next hours of the youngster's life live up to the story's calamitous title. Before he's back in his pajamas again, at play's end, to sleep off his devastating day, Alexander will have endured his older brothers' mockery, chosen an unrewarding cereal for breakfast (his bratty siblings find spectacular promotional toys in their boxes), embarrassed himself in art and music at school and irritated his dad (Eric Ray Anderson) at work by messing with office equipment.
Wait, there's more. Alexander gets mud on his clothes, shops for colorful high-top shoes with stripes but ends up with plain white sneakers, discovers his best friend (Brian Earp) now ranks him third in the friendship pecking order, and is informed by his dentist that he's the only kid in his family with a cavity.
As is usually the case when kids are fumbling and facing pressure from 17 different directions at once, Alexander is also feeling stung by impatience and criticism from the adults in his life. No wonder he fantasizes about moving to Australia.
Anyone who has had the pleasure of reading Viorst's book to one or 10 or 100 young kids (it pretty much has become a touchstone literary experience for preschoolers) will recognize these events. Indeed, SCT's musical reworking of "Alexander," with script and lyrics written by Viorst herself, is absolutely faithful to the original. It really exists as an opportunity to expand on the central character's emotions while inserting a few delightful songs (music by Shelly Markham), clever choreography (by Marianne Roberts) and winning set-pieces between vignettes.
Simple acts of imagination go a long way in a straightforward production such as "Alexander." That aforementioned whacky floor also serves at different times as a beach, the interior of a store, and the wall of a schoolroom. All one has to do is insert umbrellas in strategically placed holes or, better yet, drape an actor across the up-ended surface as if he or she is comfortably prostrate.
Quite possibly the most enjoyable production element is a digital projection system improvising backdrops by showing a talented artist's hand rapidly sketching in details of a park, a schoolyard, a night sky and much else. The effect is both charming and in-jokey, and kids in the audience are tickled by the stunt's obviousness.
Susan Finque's direction keeps the process moving along, like a true page-turner, and designer Etta Lilienthal keeps surprising the audience with simple but eye-catching set transformations. Her boxy, 1950s vision of a computerized photocopier, the "Okidoki 2005," complete with blinking lights, is a comic accomplishment.
The rest of a good cast is rounded out by Stacey Bean as Alexander's exasperated but ultimately loving mom, Jason Collins in a couple of parts and Felicia Vonshell Loud and Sarah Rudinoff as a roving pair of mischief-makers who portray everything from revolving doors to schoolgirls. Alexander may be having the worst day of his short life, but the crowds coming to see this last production in SCT's 30th season surely won't.
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