Review: The Nocturne Theatre’s ‘Shrek’ Is a Smashing Swamp Adventure

The Nocturne Theatre has conjured a vibrant, funny, and heartfelt escape to the mystical Kingdom of Duloc and beyond with its in-the-round production of Shrek: The Musical, running through Sunday, July 20th. Under the terrific direction of Justin Meyer, this Tony-nominated gem, with David Lindsay-Abaire’s razor-sharp book and lyrics and Jeanine Tesori’s hummable score, transforms the 2001 Mike Myers, Cameron Diaz, and Eddie Murphy-starring film into a marvel that effectively thrives within the inimitable space of live theatre.

Suffice it to say, this show isn’t just a fairy-tale funride for kids; it’s a jubilant celebration of misfits, weaving themes of self-acceptance, improbable bonds, and the courage to challenge stereotypes into a blend of uproarious laughter, tender moments, and earworm melodies. With a stellar cast and crew, plus immersive extras like ogre ears and “Swamp Juice” for purchase, as well as photo opportunities in the lobby’s converted swamp, The Nocturne Theatre and Meyer2Meyer have delivered a production as layered as its unlikely green-hued hero.

The premise in Shrek is simple but not simplistic: a solitary ogre’s tranquil swamp life is upended when a host of fairy-tale creatures, banished by a power-hungry lord, happen upon his home. Teamed with a garrulous Donkey, Shrek embarks on a quest to reclaim his solitude, in a quid-pro-quo agreement with the short-statured Lord Farquaad to bring a cloistered princess, who harbors her own secret, to the tyrannical ruler so he can wed her and become king. This lively tale of friendship, self-discovery, and occasional peril unfolds with wit and warmth, keeping its surprises under wraps for newcomers.

Nathanael O’Neal anchors the show as the antenna-eared, misunderstood green giant, embodying the ogre’s gruff, nonchalant, and often cynical demeanor with a soulful depth that unveils a desire for connection. O’Neal’s steadfast voice and poignant delivery in numbers like “When Words Fail“ or “Build a Wall” paint Shrek as an atypical stalwart whose tough exterior masks a heart aching to not have others shriek at the mere sight of him. O’Neal’s portrayal taps into the relatability of feeling unwelcome, making Shrek’s odyssey resonate with attendees on a visceral level. The actor also adds a fresh nuance: his Shrek finds subtle humor in self-awareness, winking at his own ogre-ish idiosyncrasies such as passing gas at arbitrary times.

Kellie Petrosian dazzles as Princess Fiona, blending an intrepid spirit with vulnerability. Her powerhouse vocals ignite “Who I’d Be” and “Morning Person,” a tap-dancing spectacle at the top of Act II, while her banter with Shrek—none more laugh-inducing than the battle of who had the worse childhood in “I Think I Got You Beat”—positively crackles. Petrosian, in all, captures a Fiona who, despite moments of naïveté (underscored by a prolonged hope that she’ll be rescued by a knight in shining armor), is more independent and less ingénue—a depiction better suited for 2025.

This production has not one but two O’Neals—the second, but by no means less talented, being Johnathon O’Neal, who inhabits the loveable Donkey with raw charisma and comic aptitude, paying homage to Eddie Murphy’s characterizations but, on the whole, standing uniquely and firmly on its own hooves. Johnathon O’Neal’s rapid-fire energy and engrossing tête-à-têtes with Nathanael O’Neal’s Shrek evoke a hilarity that, at its core, is tethered to an authenticity between two visually dissimilar but emotionally congruent characters.

Notwithstanding the goodness Shrek, Donkey, and Fiona embody, the audience favorite—at least in Glendale—is the narrative’s heel, or bad guy—the larger-than-life Lord Farquaad, vitalized by the dynamic Drew Maidment. To say that the reception for the grinning, winking, and waddling Farquaad dwarfs the reactions of his peer characters would be an understatement. Maidment proves that bigger isn’t always better in a performance that is physically exhausting and requires bodily self-awareness to ensure that the illusion of his dangling feet is fully absorbed. Needless to say, Duloc has never seemed so weirdly wonderful as when Maidment’s Farquaad appears and disappears into his tower.

The ensemble deserves plaudits for their ability to delve into myriad personae and quick-change in and out of Tanya Cyr’s always stunning costumes (Cyr also crafted an impressively imposing Dragon puppet), with particularly Thomas Adoue Polk’s lively Pinocchio bringing impish charm and Tara Cox’s Dragon (as well as Ugly Duckling) unleashing vocal fire and brimstone in a show-stealing command of the stage toward the end of Act I. Rarely has the Dragon spit so many incontrovertible facts, bolstered by a roaring clarity that blows attendees away. Not to mention, Kate Clarke charmingly rises to the occasion as the beleaguered Gingerbread Man, undeterred by a mired oppression or the voracious appetite of a “blue monster who likes cookies.”

The remaining cast members—Renee Cohen, Catherine Ballantyne, Logan Eliza, Jillian Golden, Kylie Grogan, Brendan Lynch, Melissa Meyer, Wes Morrow, Troy Ozuna, Andreas Pantazis, Ernest Peiffer, Michalis Schinas, and junior stars Nicole Nelson along with Scarlett and William Morrow—shine as villagers, rodents, and the ostracized storybook figures. Ensemble displays, such as “Story of My Life” and the rousing “Freak Flag,” emphasize how collective songs are just as meaningful as any individual solo in a show that celebrates a strength-in-numbers togetherness.

Justin Meyer’s direction brings the best out of the performers who, in addition to seamlessly playing to all four sides of the stage, feel as tangible and organic as any mystical tale can be. Melissa Schade’s choreography compels audiences to rock in their chairs and eagerly pump their fists, either due to sustained giggling or irrepressible pride. Alongside Cyr’s invaluable contributions is Greg Feiler who built the awe-inspiring Dragon which is highly memorable in the few minutes it hovers over the proceedings.

Moreover, Jay Michael Roberts and Justin Meyer’s toned-down yet evocative set, paired with the latter’s intimate lighting, creates a fantastical fairytale realm that feels appropriately encapsulating. Nolan Monsibay’s music direction brings Tesori’s underrated score—from Broadway flashiness to moving ballads—to life with precision. Last but not least, Sydni Sawyer’s Special FX makeup, especially Shrek’s green mien, looks as though the animated version became a real-life ogre.

Overall, this Shrek: The Musical not only offers a transported sojourn through fables and, more specifically, the timeless movie’s landscape, it is an ingenious tip of the hat to those who feel different or out of place compared to those around them. The moral of Shrek’s story is told effortlessly through the repartee of its humorous, but equally sincere, characters. With a runtime of two hours and fifty minutes (including intermission), the journey is long but no less satisfying as every moment intriguingly builds upon the last, in crescendos of boisterousness. The Nocturne Theatre and Meyer2Meyer’s take on Shrek is a rollicking romp through the swamp, proving that whether one is an oddity or not, true beauty shines when you become a “believer” and embrace your quirks.

Cover image caption: The cast of Shrek: The Musical at The Nocturne Theatre in Glendale, CA. Photo by Brayden Hade.

The Nocturne Theatre’s production of Shrek: The Musical plays through Sunday, July 20th. For more information and to purchase tickets, visit thenocturnetheatre.com.