REVIEW: Life of Pi gleams with unforgettable puppets
If Life of Pi is any indication, it’s going to be a great year for puppets in Toronto.
Based on the beloved novel by Yann Martel (and more fractious 2012 film adaptation), the exquisite touring production now playing at the CAA Ed Mirvish Theatre uses puppets as its vocabulary, asking complex questions about storytelling and the power of imagination. As we follow youngster Pi (Divesh Subaskaran) through his harrowing coming-of-age — complete with gentle ruminations on religion and a devastating shipwreck — we come to realize that words can’t be the primary vessel for the intricacies of Pi’s story.
And so, in the absence of language, there’s a different kind of syntax, a visual feast that at times makes Life of Pi feel less like a play and more like a ballet. When we meet Pi and his zookeeping family in India, their physical world, designed by Tim Hatley, meets them where they are: Sterile white walls transform into zoo enclosures, and delicate butterflies flutter above their heads. When it becomes clear that the Patels must flee to Canada, their surroundings shepherd them into this new life, evolving into the fetid decks of a cargo ship.
Pi and his family aren’t alone: They’re surrounded by animals, untamed beasts who can’t help but chomp at passersby. When Pi meets the gorgeous, dangerous Bengal tiger for the first time, he hopes never to see the creature again, so appalled he is by the cat’s instinct to kill.
But that’s not how the story goes.
Lolita Chakrabarti’s adaptation leans into Martel’s framing device, using a federal investigation as an entry point to what Pi experienced while at sea. Mrs. Okamoto (Lilian Tsang), an official from the Japanese Ministry of Transport, can’t grasp how Pi could have survived such a tragedy — surely, this gangly teen couldn’t have floated to the coast of Mexico with only his thoughts and a tiger for company.
That incredulity shapes a theatrical experience as narratively rewarding as it is optically rich. Smart double-casting makes the animals all the more alluring — Pi’s generous, radiant mother (Goldy Notay) re-appears inside the body of an orangutan, and religious leaders from a smattering of faiths peek through the skeletons of a zebra, a hyena, and, indeed, the tiger. The life-sized puppets, designed by Nick Barnes and Finn Caldwell, render Pi’s menagerie fiercely alive. Not once during Life of Pi do an actor’s hands or eyes distract from the animal on their backs — indeed, director Max Webster’s staging sculpts the creature-performer groupings as individual, cohesive units.
Subaskaran has a tough job to do as Pi — in many ways, the play functions as a solo show, demanding Pi serve as a bridge between the audience and the work’s immersive, abstracted reality. But Subaskaran nails it, conjuring Pi’s innocence and fatigue in equal amounts. When Life of Pi asks its protagonist to contemplate competing spiritualities with lighthearted good nature, he does so; when the play then hurls those religions at him in concert with tropical storms and ravenous tigers, he survives. It’s fascinating to watch Pi’s layers evolve with the play, and Subaskaran particularly thrives in Life of Pi’s second act as he mourns his smart, protective sister Rani (a lovely Riya Rajeev) and quietly loving father (Ameet Chana).
A word on projections: Folks planning to buy a ticket may want to opt for the CAA Ed Mirvish Theatre’s mezzanine. Andrzej Goulding’s video designs, beamed onto the floor of the stage, further elevate the play’s visual scope, and those projections aren’t easily visible from the orchestra level. While Life of Pi is still fabulous from the ground floor, it’s easy to imagine how much sweeter it might be with the full stage picture in view.
High-quality puppetry can be hard to come by in this city, and I’m hoping Life of Pi is a sign of what might be to come later in the season. And indeed, the puppets need not stop with Pi — Ronnie Burkett’s Wonderful Joe plays the St. Lawrence Centre for the Arts next month, and The Lion King will begin its sit-down engagement at the Princess of Wales Theatre in November. While I can’t imagine a puppet performance which tops that of Richard Parker the Bengal tiger, I’m not sure I want to, either — I think I’ll hear that roar in the back of my head forever.
Life of Pi runs until October 6 at the CAA Ed Mirvish Theatre. Tickets are available here.
Intermission reviews are independent and unrelated to Intermission’s partnered content. Learn more about Intermission’s partnership model here.
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