In Brother Mario, Flying V Theatre, Playwright Seamus Sullivan, and Director Paul Reisman deftly straddle the void between fringe and professional theatre.
Outwardly, Brother Mario commits wholeheartdly to its namesake Super Mario. As the lights rise, Princesses Peach (Amber A. Gibson), Daisy (Natalie Bowland), and Rosalina (Meghan Reichelt) sit together decked out in fairytale gowns and crowns while Bowser (Ryan Tumulty) stands guard outside the castle, dodging fireballs from atop a makeshift bridge.
The princess' captivity is hardly dire. Peach discusses Mario's late arrival with an unexpectedly deferential Bowser; more sounding board than brute captor.
A morose Mario (Lee Lieberskind) is suffering from a mid-life crisis. He eventually shows up to rescue Peach (with Luigi (Grant Cloyd) in tow), but his heart is elsewhere. In the end, Peach rescues herself. Ever the damsel in distress, she gives Mario all the credit. Sound familiar, ladies? Anyway, it's at this point that I realize this goofy play aspires to be more substantive than the Mario Kart 64 I used to play with my brother.
Brother Mario covers a lot of terrain in eighty-five minutes. Peach resolves to shake things up to help Mario snap out of his ennui but to no avail. An economic crisis occasioned by his personal crisis puts the financial security of the Mushroom Kingdom at risk. Soon every character is negotiating their own personal crisis and Mario Kart duel pits brother against brother.
Physically, Tumulty embodies the villainous Bowser of my 90s childhood. But emotionally, Tumulty's Bowser is the poetic antithesis of his videogame persona; an observant narrator and a considerate friend with a suggestive personality and questionable tendencies. JonJon Johnson is a flamboyant King Boo, a veritable laugh-riot.
It's probably my fault for never bothering to look behind the Super Mario stereotypes but in reality, the princesses are active participants in their own futures. Gibson, Bowland, and Reichelt portray princesses of action and purpose: ambassadors, leaders, and visionaries. Reichelt's portrayal is particularly starry-eyed and heroic.
Costume Designer Lynly A. Saunder's designs are loyal to the game. Stagehands wear mushroom caps and the princesses are all dressed in the correct colored gown and crowns.
King Boo's white bulbous orb is made all the ghostly by the specter of Johnson's head cloaked in black mess hovering with King Boo's crown. The already lofty Tumulty is rendered colossal by the addition of platform boots, which transform him into something of a punk Bowser, a creative play on video game Bowser's 90s black, spikey cuffs, and flaming mohak.
Technical Director Greg Condon and Scenic Designer Gillick's set is bare bones but accurately reminiscent of the Super Mario tableaus in the games I played as a child. But, like the games, a bit fuzzy after 15 years of neglect.
The entire suite of Super Mario games are active. Super Mario is always on the go-go-go, always moving forward. Brother Mario lacked the sense of urgency inherent in Super Mario, despite the high concept mash-up and weariness affecting the Mushroom Kingdom.
Brother Mario stops just short of being self-indulgent and successfully walks the line between cutesy video game motif and Chekhovian drama.
Although the ins and outs of Brother Mario can be difficult to decipher for anyone who is not a fan of the Super Mario franchise, the emotions experienced by Mario and his friends resonate with all.
Running Time: 1 hour and 25 minutes, one intermission
Advisory: Adult themes
BROTHER MARIO plays through March 12th at Flying V Theatre located at The Writer's Center, 4508 Walsh St, Bethesda, MD 20815. For tickets click here.
Photo: Lee Lieberskind as Mario and Ryan Tumulty as Bowser.
Videos