Emily Fritz | a&e editor
Anytime that a Broadway show is adapted from a book or movie, there is a lingering fear that something so well-loved already will be squashed when put onto a stage. “Life of Pi,” the 2001 novel by Yann Martel, is not one that necessarily sticks out as a must-read more than 20 years after its debut. However, the 2012 film and 2023 Broadway debut pushed it back into the spotlight.
In an effort to escape political unrest in India, Pi Patel’s (Taha Mandviwala) family attempts to emigrate to Canada. As zookeepers, the family of four board the Tsimtsum alongside their collection of animals to sail across the Atlantic for a better life. When the ship goes down, Pi is thrown into a lifeboat, where he survives for 227 days with a royal Bengal tiger named Richard Parker.
Without the foreknowledge from advertising, this story sounds like a barren stage and an impossible tale. Patrons who witnessed the story unfold on stage at the Benedum Center were effortlessly transported from Pondicherry, India to the Tsimtsum, Pi’s lifeboat and finally to the safety of a Mexican hospital, where the 17-year-old recounted his journey.
“It’s a sensory spectacle,” Mandviwala told Broadway World, “the way the stage, lighting, and sound transform to bring Pi’s world to life with the added masterpiece of the puppeteering of animals and objects. … It’s a story about survival, connection and imagination.”
The show utilized hypnotic 360-degree light projections and tactful distractions to transition between settings while life-sized puppets reimagined what Broadway storytelling could be. “Life of Pi” puppets were manipulated by multiple actors, some disguised in the body of their animal while others controlled the front or back of the body.
Actress Jessica Angelskhan, who portrays three separate characters — Amma (Pi’s mother), the nurse and Orange Juice (an orangutan) — described the experience to The Duke.
“One person controls the head and one arm, another puppeteer controls the other arm and then a third puppeteer controls the feet,” Angelskhan said. “We can’t communicate with each other with words, so we have to really, really listen and be present with each other so that we can all act in unison with the same intentions to bring life to [a] puppet.”
Seeing puppeteers alongside their animals inherently pulls the eye away from the animal, but each of the neutral-clad thespians emoted similar to their puppets, giving way to expressions that couldn’t be translated from the second balcony through smaller design work.
Impressive as they were, the behaviors and dialogue of their human counterparts translated as overacted in some places — which for the sake of staying family-friendly, helped the younger audience members to decipher some of the parallels between Pi’s dual storytelling later on.
In the book, the movie and the show, at the root of “Life of Pi” is religious theming that breaks down the loss and mortality that Pi faces, while pushing storytelling as a means for survival.
Pi’s tale is understood as hyperbole and rightfully doubted; when he begins to disclose the more probable account, his youthful coping mechanism melts into morbid reality. Without the elaborate and colorful puppets, the cast conveys a much more sinister plot.
Despite its existential nature, “Life of Pi” becomes a tale that undoubtedly pulls its strength from its puppetry, lighting and set design. This isn’t to say that the cast doesn’t fit the bill, because they most certainly do. Rather, the religious elements become muddied in its presentation. For holding such a key role in the novel, it desaturates on stage.
For the sake of its adaptability, “Life of Pi” onstage becomes an inspiration to read. It is visually stunning, but the additional depth is something better experienced in the intimacy of its pages.
“So tell me, which story do you prefer? Which is the better story? The story with animals or the story without animals?” Pi asks Mr. Okamoto (Alan Ariano).
“The story with animals,” he replies.
“Yes, thank you,” Pi says. “And so it goes with God.”
Features editor Kaitlyn Hughes also contributed to this story.
