Berkeley Rep: Treasure Island

Left to right: Steven Epp, John Babbo. Photo courtesy Kevin Berne and Berkeley Repertory Theatre.

The images in Robert Louis Stevenson’s 1883 book Treasure Island – the map with a big X over the buried treasure, the menacing pirate with the peg leg and parrot, the deserted island where lie the skeletons of a treacherous crew – have been irrevocably burned into the Western cultural consciousness. There have been dozens of adaptations in the past hundred years, yet it takes the touch of a director like Mary Zimmerman – a specialist in adapting larger-than-life tales to theatre – to make Stevenson’s work come to life on stage. Berkeley Rep’s production of Treasure Island cuts to the core of this swashbuckling adventure, creating a tense, riveting, and, above all, exciting play.

When reviewing an adaptation of Treasure Island, one must first discuss the most important element of the story: Long John Silver, the scoundrel who singlehandedly created the pop culture pirate. Actor Steven Epp emphasizes Silver’s trickster qualities, playing him as a veteran who compensates for his age and missing leg by being five times craftier than the rest of the characters. He is also fascinatingly ambiguous, switching sides multiple times in a single scene in an attempt to balance his own greed with escaping both justice and his mutinous band of ruffians. One particular piece of social gymnastics near the end of the play is more impressive than the multi-story gunfights.

The rest of the ensemble keeps up with Epp’s larger-than-life performance. Former Broadway actor John Babbo plays Jim Hawkins, teenage cabin boy and viewpoint character, with the pluck and courage one would expect from a Victorian-era protagonist. Castaway Ben Gunn (Steve Pickering) uses a boisterous physicality to punctuate his performance, dancing and leaping with joy when given his sudden redemption. My personal favorite supporting character, Squire Trelawney (Matt DeCaro), is the perfect aristocratic fop, whose loose lips and naiveté create trouble for the protagonists while the audience laughs at his bumbling demeanor.

Like many of Zimmerman’s works, Treasure Island uses music, visuals, and movement to further engage the audience the way only live theatre can accomplish. Traditional sea shanties punctuate the action, furthering slow parts of the plot and adding an eerie sense of adventure to the story as a whole. Todd Rosenthal’s set, consisting of a broad curved “floor” combined with lots of rigging, serves as a blank canvas while simultaneously suggesting a connection to the British nautical tradition in every scene. The costumes, designed by Ana Kuzmanic, separate the clean and crisp British loyalists from the grimy, practical pirates, making everyone’s allegiances identifiable on sight.

The most impressive part of Mary Zimmerman’s Treasure Island at Berkeley Rep is its utter sincerity. The plot is familiar to us, the characters effectively archetypes, but Zimmerman respects the source material and, except for a throwaway line where Long John Silver breaks the fourth wall, plays everything completely straight. To survive in the modern era, theatre needs the occasional injection of fun, goofy or not, and Treasure Island provides the excitement that we crave.

Oregon Shakespeare Festival 2014: A Wrinkle in Time

Ensemble. Photo courtesy Oregon Shakespeare Festival.

One of the advantages theatre has over film is its power to convince the audience of visual metaphor. If a special effect looks cheesy in a movie, it is noticeable, but in a play using ribbons for water or dancers for wind is not only acceptable but elegant. OSF’s adaptation of the Madame L’Engle children’s novel deftly translates the “magical science” to the stage in beautiful way that could only work on stage.

A multitude of performance arts are used in the adaptation, including stage magic, ventriloquism, and dance, and unusual props (such as a meteor-shaped disco ball) are combined with A/V special effects to create an experience that doesn’t betray the sense of wonder conveyed by the text. A lot of theatre, especially high budget theatre, is too reliant on stage gimmicks; however, because this is an adaptation of A Wrinkle In Time, the effects only serve as a more faithful adaptation. After all, what could be more faithful than sparking an interest in sets and stage mechanics?

The main trio of Meg, Charles Wallace, and Calvin were played by Alejandra Escalante (Juliet from 2012’s Romeo and Juliet), Sara Bruner, and Joe Wegner respectively; their performances cut to the core of their characters as children who have outgrown their numerical age. The Murry children especially possess the emotional maturity to be expected from their age (including Charles Wallace’s posing at a greater level of maturity) but never lose their intellectual talent and curiosity. My favorite supporting actor was the graceful Dan Donohue as the archetypal physicist dad Mr. Murry.

A Wrinkle In Time is designed for children and children-at-heart; it often relies more on visual wonder than metaphorical complexity. However, this is the kind of theatre keeps art alive by igniting a love of theatre in a new generation, and I am proud of OSF for creating it.

Oregon Shakespeare Festival 2014: The Cocoanuts

Brent Hinkley, John Tufts, and Mark Bedard (top to bottom). Photo courtesy Oregon Shakespeare Festival.

When Mark Bedard was performing the role of Groucho Marx in OSF’s 2012 rendition of Animal Crackers, he was also busy writing his own adaptation of the first Marx Brothers movie, The Cocoanuts. This year, the adaptation has been brought to the Ashland stage. Though it features the Marx Brothers zaniness one would hope for, it’s different enough from its OSF predecessor that it’s definitely worth attending.

At its heart, The Cocoanuts is about two things: The Marx Brothers being funny and elaborate musical numbers. The former of these did not disappoint. Brent Hinkley and John Tufts reprised their roles as Harpo and Chico Marx, respectively; these roles, requiring spectacular choreography and the ability to work as a single comedic unit, were executed as effortlessly as the original Marx Brothers. Special note must go to Hinkley’s facial expressions–he manages to convey subtlety even in Harpo’s constant manic grin.

The musical segments are as lavish and funny as they were in Animal Crackers, but are more tied into the plot of the musical instead of appearing as vaudevillian interludes. Key to these is Eduardo Placer as the hapless Zeppo (the only Marx Brother role to be played by a different actor); his nervous energy and impeccable choreography brings the songs together. The musical definitely feels like it was written by a playwright with modern sensibilities–Bedard moves away from the Marx Brothers’ vaudeville roots, turning the play from a variety show into a farce.

Rounding out the play is the hilarious ensemble cast. K. T. Vogt’s Mrs. Jamison was my personal favorite–Vogt is a very good character actor (catch her in Two Gentlemen of Verona as well!) and plays a role as the stuck-up rich lady common to the subversive wackiness of the Marx Brothers. A stone-faced David Kelley plays the unfortunate Detective Hennessey (who gets probably the best song in the show), and Robert Vincent Frank and Kate Mulligan play a pair of devious thieves.

If you are seeking exactly the kind of comedy you got with Animal Crackers, you will get mostly what you want. Though the structure of the plot is different, and even the gags have changed a little, for the most part The Cocoanuts is the wacky Marx Brothers antics you have come to expect.