'Big Fish' review: Tall tales, tender truths, and a story worth believing at The Dio

Photo courtesy of Michele Anliker Photography

---

History has a strange way of re-writing itself. Few characters embody that idea more fully than Edward Bloom, a man whose defining personality trait is telling seemingly impossible tall tales as a way of reclaiming his own hero’s journey. In a fitting parallel, the musical adaptation of “Big Fish” has undergone a revision of its own. First published as a novel by Daniel Wallace in 1998, adapted into a 2003 film directed by Tim Burton, and then reimagined for the stage with a book by John August and music and lyrics by Andrew Lippa, “Big Fish” arrived on Broadway in October of 2013 to a muted response. It barely made a ripple. The film, too, was no blockbuster.

Yet more than a decade later, “Big Fish” has quietly found its life in regional theaters across the country, where its sincerity and emotional reach feel better suited to more intimate spaces. There is something about its central question, how the stories we tell shape who we are, that lends itself naturally to the stage. That may help explain why The Dio’s current production has been selling out performances faster than a fish appearing after an "Alabama Stomp” thanks to the irresistible momentum of earworms like “Be the Hero” or “Start Over.”

That said, the show’s weaknesses remain, and they are worth confronting. Structurally, “Big Fish” unfolds in a series of anecdotes rather than tightly driven plot beats, mirroring Edward’s storytelling style but at the expense of dramatic urgency. Scenes often feel like vignettes stacked atop one another, drifting without a clear escalation. More frustratingly, the musical sidesteps some of Edward Bloom’s more problematic traits, opting for sentimentality instead of fully reckoning with the emotional consequences of a man who frequently prizes mythmaking over accountability. The result is a show that gestures toward complex emotional baggage without always picking it up. And yet, despite those shortcomings, “Big Fish” has a way of finding resonance, particularly for anyone who has ever struggled to understand a parent or wished for clarity only after it was too late.

The Dio’s trademark resourcefulness is on full display here. With a scaled-down cast of 12 performers rather than the thirty-plus often associated with this show, the production leans into inventive staging instead of spectacle. Scenic, projection, and lighting designer Matthew Tomich makes smart use of the space, assembling wood slats that subtly evoke the musical’s Southern setting while allowing for constant transformation. The addition of LED panels along the sides of the theatre enhances immersion without overwhelming the action, a reminder that suggestion often serves this story better than excess.

At the center of it all is Steve DeBruyne, who pulls double duty as both director and Edward Bloom. His performance is marked by a daft pluckiness and an abundance of what might best be described as big dad energy (complement). Unlike the film, which split Edward between two actors at different ages, the musical places the full weight of the character on one performer. DeBruyne rises to the challenge. While the choice of having the same actor play the roles occasionally stretches plausibility, this is, after all, a world populated by witches, giants, and mermaids. Emotional truth matters more here than realism, and DeBruyne uses that freedom to craft a version of Edward that feels cohesive, layered, and deeply human.

The musical’s increased focus on the father-son relationship proves to be one of its greatest strengths. Tyler J. Messinger, as Edward’s son Will, is a welcome presence back on the regional theatre scene. His performance balances frustration and tenderness with impressive vocal dexterity, grounding the show’s more fantastical impulses in something achingly real. Angela Hench is quietly terrific as Sandra Bloom, Edward’s wife and Will’s mother, anchoring the narrative with steadiness and warmth. Their love story blooms most memorably in the Act One finale “Daffodils,” one of the show’s most beautiful and emotionally complete moments.

Edward’s life unfolds through a series of memories and legends as he confronts his own mortality. He grows up in Ashton, a fictional small town in Alabama, where he is celebrated as the prodigal son, a literal big fish in a small pond. It is there that his identity begins to take shape, eagerly affirmed by a community willing to embrace it. One of the show’s great strengths, amplified by The Dio’s staging, is Lippa’s score, which knows precisely when to erupt into full ensemble storytelling and when to pull back. Characters arrive in musical brushstrokes: Jacqui Blue’s sly and knowing Witch, Michael Bessom’s instantly lovable Karl the Giant, and James Fischer’s sensational Amos Calloway, a carnival ringleader harboring secrets of his own. The rest of the cast is rounded out by Jack Fitch (who, in my production, played young Will but you might see AJ Sandstrom!); Anne Koziara playing Will’s fiancé alongside other prominent Dio regulars including Amy Schumacher, Molly Cunningham, Brendan Martin, and Nicholas Balfour.

For those who love this show, there is almost certainly a character they will recognize themselves in, and the company sounds remarkably strong throughout. While the use of prerecorded tracks limits some expressive dynamics, the choice is understandable given the venue’s constraints, but the execution remains tight. Credit is due to Lisa Merte’s music direction for maintaining cohesion and energy throughout. The dinner served before curtain takes on a different energy as well, with a variety of new selections, including a fish-fry and biscuits. I was fortunate enough to get a taste of “Josephine’s Butternut Squash Curry” and it was delicious. 

In many ways, The Dio may be the ideal home for “Big Fish.” Its smaller scale amplifies the show’s emotional core in a way that larger houses sometimes struggle to sustain, especially when visual spectacle threatens to overpower intimacy. Here, humanity comes forward. DeBruyne’s direction emphasizes connection over illusion, reminding us that the closure offered by stories does not have to be grand to be meaningful. Sometimes, it is enough to be understood, even imperfectly, before the final curtain falls.

IF YOU GO:

The Dio’s production of BIG FISH continues through May 31st. Reservations, which include dinner and a show, can be made by clicking here.