A lesson in prejudice and compassion in story of outcast longing to fit in

Given the ongoing debate about, and backlash against, immigration in this country, the timing for Seattle Children's Theatre's "The Hundred Dresses" is fortuitous.

Like many an SCT play, "The Hundred Dresses" (adapted by Mary Hall Surface, from a novel for youth by the late Eleanor Estes) is basically an admonishment against bullying and destructive peer pressure.

But what sets the play and Allison Narver's lovingly crafted production apart is its quiet, unexaggerated depiction of xenophobia, and how poverty comes in different sizes and shades.

Set during the 1930s in an unnamed small town hit hard by the Great Depression, we see the young Polish immigrant Wanda Petronski (Sharia Pierce) long to be part of a circle of girls led by the feisty ringleader, Peggy (Sarah Harlett).

But Wanda hangs back, watching from a corner of the playground. Her heavily accented English, the drab dress she wears every day, her sheer foreignness, set her part from her American peers.

And when she suddenly declares she has 100 dresses in her closet at home, Wanda becomes an object of mockery.

While Pierce's Wanda is the most compelling character here, the moral compass of the play is Betsy Schwartz's convincingly ambivalent Maddie.

Spurred on by Peggy, Maddie joins in the laughs at Wanda's expense. But the shame of her own family's less-obvious poverty makes her feel increasingly guilty about teasing Wanda — and joining in the harassment of another local outcast, Old Man Svenson (Philip Davidson).

The awakening of Maddie's conscience accelerates when Wanda and her family move away — partly in response to the small-town hostility they've faced.

And Wanda's peers are further chastened when it turns out she did have 100 dresses. Not actual frocks, but drawings of imaginary ones, all entered in a class design contest.

In an admirable visual stroke, this myriad of colorful sketches (created by costumer Melanie Taylor Burgess and her daughters) suddenly appears, covering an entire backdrop in Carey Wong's scenic design.

Wanda's humanity is confirmed through this exceptional artistic talent — but the play loses some momentum after that eye-popping sight.

But for the 8- to 11-year-olds the play targets, its lessons — summed up by a kind teacher (Marianne Owen) and Maddie's mom (Susanna Burney) — do reinforce compassionate behavior toward others.

And Narver's seamless staging keeps the piece lively and unstilted for young viewers, with lots of comic roughhousing among the boys and girls in Maddie's class — all exuberantly played by adult actors, notably the cartwheeling, backflipping Tim Gouran.

But the soul of the piece is Pierce's Wanda. One of Seattle's most impressive younger actors, Pierce does more here with silent longing than many performers might do with lengthy monologues. She connects us back to our own immigrant mothers, grandmothers, great-grandmothers and their struggles to belong.

Misha Berson: mberson@seattletimes.com