Beneath the technical wizardry and versatile performances of “Life of Pi,” there are tragic realities that confront our current national moment with unflinching horror.
It’s not to the detriment of the show’s high-minded themes, but it is uncomfortably — if perhaps not always intentionally — resonant. The touring Broadway adaptation of the 2001 novel, which plays Denver’s Buell Theatre through March 30, blends philosophy, puppetry and brutal survival in a way that feels both unapologetic and surreal.
It’s a bold take on fleeing one’s home for a better life across the sea — in this case Canada, where “Life of Pi” author Yann Martel spent some time growing up — and the ways in which corrosive politics and violence drive global realignment.
Our teenage hero Pi Patel (played by Taha Mandviwala) is the pin-drop on the stage’s square map, central in his white-roomed recovery bed, his family’s colorful zoo, his town’s bustling market, and eventually his lifeboat. Set elements and props whirl around him like exploded technical drawings, their always-visible human operators acting as a stage presence in their own right.
After batting off questions from a pair of Japanese investigators who meet Pi in his recovery room in Mexico, we flash back to a whirlwind origin that sets up his 227 days at sea, following a shipwreck that kills his family and most of the animals they’re toting across the Pacific Ocean from India.
As setup, we witness the inexorable decline of Pi’s family’s zoo due to off-stage riots and social unrest in 1970s India. As Pi’s father, Sorab Wadia walks a fine line between paternal caricature and nuanced concern for his kids as he protects threatened butterflies, birds, hyenas, a giraffe and, as is soon established, a Bengal tiger with the absurd name of Richard Parker.
In a market setting that surprise-pops out of the set’s walls, Pi is confronted by choices as Catholic, Muslim and Hindu forces swirl to convert him. His years-long search for truth yields a lot of striking dialogue, and it’s comforting to see his family depicted as people with functional relationships who support him despite their disagreements.
Still, as Pi says, “I am not easy to explain.” His tests of faith and constant proclamations are handled with care by Lolita Chakrabarti, whose writing for the stage feels as wide open and visceral as the 2012 film. But under the direction of Ashley Brooke Monroe, it also often feels like Mandviwala is sprinting from one mark to the next, delivering his lines at a high, ragged volume that flattens their dynamic themes.
It lends a vigor that masks the play’s two-hour runtime (yes, it’s a play, not a musical) and one can only imagine how exhausted Mandviwala is at the end of each committed performance. There’s also a strange poetry to watching certain animals “die” as their human operators leave the stage. It’s a metaphor for the way the soul animates our bodies, or doesn’t, and an acknowledgment that descriptive literary devices and CGI don’t have to translate perfectly to theater (minus the animated projection mapping that takes us through both Pi’s mind and his watery adventures).
After surviving the shipwreck, Pi’s joy, humor and despair turn on a dime as his lifeboat is beset by surviving animals — a hyena, a zebra, an orangutan named Orange Juice, and our Royal Bengal tiger. That last one, which stalks and growls realistically thanks to a trio of stunningly talented puppeteers, acts as both antagonist and doppelgänger to Pi. He persists despite sharing his craft with these animals, which are whittled down by Richard Parker until it’s just him and Pi.
The seafaring portion of the show feels like a host of practical, creative problem-solving that unfortunately can crowd the stage with puppeteers. They send fish, zoo animals and shipwreck flotsam across the set, occasionally carrying Pi over their heads to symbolize his drifting. Instead of hiding them, the show lets you get used to them — not by fading into the background, but by putting their naked artistry on display.
It’s saying something that the depictions of animal violence, desperation and death feel documentary-style, despite their highly symbolic rendering. Of course, this rightly Tony-winning “Life of Pi” boasts roundly strong performances, a propulsive and cinematic look, and plenty of thoughtful one-liners that interrogate faith and the choices we make to survive.
But be prepared to leave the theater with an unsettled feeling, as this “Life of Pi” poses the question: “What can we do when truth is slippery, and life-changing events are mostly out of our control?” and answers with “Not much.”
If you go
“The Life of Pi.” Touring Broadway play in Denver through March 30 at Denver Center for the Performing Arts’ Buell Theatre, 1350 Curtis St. in Denver. Some scenes contain simulated violence and flashing lights. Recommended for ages 10 and up. Tickets: $46-$109.25 via denvercenter.org