A Wild and Exuberant Production
When I first learned about the movie Life of Pi, I confess I was less than curious, having neither heard of nor read the book. Several years later, when it was adapted into a movie and then a Broadway play—with stops along the way in London’s West End, where it racked up a slew of Olivier Awards (the British equivalent of our Tonys)—I became much more intrigued. I assumed the movie would rely heavily on CGI unless they had found the world’s most accomplished tiger tamer to play the part of the Bengal tiger, so I opted to skip it. However, I thought the puppetry involved in the live production might be more captivating, based on snippets I had seen of the Lion King-like puppets. Little did I know how much I was underrating the accomplishments of the creatives who brought this story to life on stage.
The production that roared into Baltimore this month has so much going for it that the few elements that didn’t land as solidly are hardly a detriment to the overall effect. At the Hippodrome, the national tour launches a 30-city journey, and how lucky are we to get the first look?
All I knew about the story was that there was a shipwreck, a young man, a lifeboat, and a mean tiger who also survived the wreck and wanted to eat the survivor. What a pleasant surprise to discover that the story has many layers, and Pi, the eponymous character, is much more dimensional than he appears at first glance. Here’s a thumbnail sketch to catch you up on the story:
Piscine Molitor Patel (Pi for short) is a 17-year-old boy living in Pondicherry, India, with his father, mother, sister, and a handful of relatives. The family owns the Pondicherry Zoo, home to exotic animals that Pi has grown up with. As observant Hindus, Pi and his family are vegetarians, and Pi treats the zoo animals as extended family members—except for the Bengal tiger, curiously named Richard Parker due to a clerical error on the shipping documents (his name appears in the seller’s name slot). When Pondicherry’s political climate becomes increasingly volatile, the family decides to move to Canada, bringing their crated animals on a cargo ship bound for Montreal.
A violent storm sinks the ship, drowning everyone onboard, including Pi’s family. Pi is tossed into a lifeboat by a crew member and miraculously survives, along with a zebra, an orangutan, a murderous hyena, and, hiding under a tarp, the dreaded Richard Parker. (Spoiler: not all of them make it out alive.) How Pi and Richard Parker survive together in such a confined space, forging an uneasy alliance to endure 227 days at sea—starving, dehydrated, and managing to hang on day by day—and the aftermath of Pi’s rescue form the basis of this suspenseful tale of survival and faith against all odds.
A fascinating element of the story is Pi’s faith. Faced with starvation, he refuses to kill or eat any animals until hunger forces him to confront the harsh reality: his choice is to eat animals and drink their blood for sustenance or die of starvation and dehydration. His faith sustains him throughout the ordeal as he prays for God to deliver him.
The story takes a darker turn when an insurance investigator dismisses Pi’s account as too incredible to be believed. Pi responds with an alternate tale, equally horrific and even more violent (and there’s plenty of violence depicted on stage). Which version is the truth? That’s for you to decide.
The Life of Pi production at the Hippodrome is a triumph. While the story stretches credulity, the craftsmanship is outstanding. Max Webster’s direction, clearly informed by his background in Shakespeare and opera, gives the play an impressive scope. The tight pacing and inventive use of set pieces—from the complexity of a sinking ship to the simplicity of rippling paper evoking the sea—are focused and effective. Audiences often underestimate the director’s vision, but Webster expertly draws out the intended emotional responses in every scene.
Tim Hatley’s scenic and costume design integrates seamlessly with the story. The lighting design by Tim Lutkin and Tim Deiling effectively conveys time transitions, while Andrew T. Mackey’s music enhances the mood and action.
I’ve never written about a man-made construction playing such a pivotal role in a play, but Richard Parker demands attention. It’s easy to see why the London production won an Olivier for Best Supporting Actor, awarded to the puppet masters who animate him. “Puppet” feels like an inadequate term for this near-living creation. With expressive facial movements and lifelike, menacing gestures, Richard Parker is as central to the story as Pi himself.
The supporting cast members, while competent, tend to fall into familiar archetypes: the doting mother, the protective father, the older sister, and the hospital attendants. Each actor performs credibly, despite the characters’ one-dimensional nature.
The remarkable Taha Mandviwala carries the show. As nimble as an acrobat, he leaps and bounds across the stage with youthful energy. His comic timing, deadpan delivery, radiant smile, and palpable fear make him a compelling protagonist. His despair is so tangible it’s almost exhausting to watch, but you can’t look away.
The violence, themes of abandonment and terror, and depiction of animal deaths (even with puppets) make this production unsuitable for young children. Truth be told, I was scared witless more than once. Still, this compelling story, filled with questions about faith, family, truth, and resilience, makes for exceptional storytelling. Life of Pi delivers all that and more. Kudos to the company for sharing their amazing talents.
Life of Pi runs through December 14th at The Hippodrome Theatre, 12 North Eutaw Street Baltimore, MD 21201. For more information, visit the website.
Videos