©Photo by Eric Woolsey, courtesy of The Rep
While one ought to expect every American to have a fair grasp of Mark Twain's major works, it's a near prerequisite for us Show-Me-Staters. Since I can safely count my international readership as my brother in England (Hi, Aaron) being linked to my posts by my mother (Hi, Mom) I will assume among you fine folks a base level of familiarity with Twain's The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, no synopsis necessary. Since the 1930s, numerous film adaptations have been presented to varying degrees of success. I believe I grew up with the 1938 Technicolor version from David O. Selznick; I seem to recall the cave stuff scaring the bejeezus out of me. On stage, some musicals have been mounted, but there is no definitive adapted theatrical script. The Rep's current production presents a serious hat-in-the-ring from aerialist/rocker/playwright Laura Eason, perhaps the stage version that shall become canon. Mebbe so, mebbe not.
Whence my ambivalence? Mainly that what makes Eason's approach to the material successful, memorable and affecting are factors not purely intrinsic to Twain's work. That is, Tom Sawyer, while assuredly an exciting collection of high adventure, passion, mystery and all things active and plotly, is classic because of the language: that arch, curious lattice of peculiarities and wit that are particular to Mark Twain. In forging a compelling stage work, Eason brings us all the tension, derring-do and action at the expense of a lot of Twain's words, but featuring lots of wordless movement and choreographed set pieces. Now, I'm not about to argue that what the world needs is a word-perfect rendering including all omniscient narrative, but part of me feels that what is on display at the Rep serves as perhaps too much of a greatest hits, Cliff's notes approach to the material of the book. Problem is, of course, it's a whole lot of fun and totally succeeds as an evening's entertainment. I certainly can't propose where the middle ground might lie, so what we've got is a kinetic, often frenetic, entirely winsome take on the exploits of Tom, Huck, Becky, Injun Joe et al, and it's way fun.
I know I've unfairly frontloaded this post with my misgivings, but really they're minor. This is a superb show overall. Created for The Hartford Stage in 2010, Eason's background in movement and circus arts translates into a production whose feel conjures comparisons to the best of musical theater, simply without songs. Tom and Huck (role originator Tim McKiernan and Robbie Tann, respectively) bound about their adventures on a stage that can barely contain their energy—in fact, via a rope swing, the fourth wall is broken to gasp-inducing effect. Indeed, energy is the watchword of this production, as all the performances are ratcheted up several degrees past naturalism, which serves well the kinetic nature of this show. Ah, there's the “k” word again. Can't be avoided, as not only has movement and choreography been employed to create a singular visual experience, through ensemble movement pieces and crisply blocked scene changes, but there is a brisk movement through the piece—a swift and steady pacing pulling us through the narrative with nary a moment wasted. The pacing slows only where tension needs building, as in the graveyard where Tom and Huck witness a murder at the hands of Injun Joe (Michael D. Nichols) who transfers blame to the poor sod Muff Potter (Joseph Adams). In Act II, when Tom and Becky (Hayley Treider, simply the sweetest Becky you'll likely ever see) are lost in the caves and facing grave danger, our perception of time stretches with theirs, as dim candlelight and only the suggestion of their surroundings provide us visual context. (Far more compelling than the Technicolor version from my childhood, to be sure.) Only by establishing a go-go pace with seemingly boundless energy can these slower moments have the impact they do; we can feel the brakes being applied.
Speaking of the caves, a few words on the set and lighting. Clichés become cliché because they're true, right? Well, less really is more. With a mottled canvas backdrop featuring one offset window frame and an arsenal of movable set pieces, Tom's world and the numerous locations of his activities are given life. Simple arrangements of wooden scaffolding create a cave-scape that makes the audience share in the confusion and panic of our lost heroes; another re-arrangement takes us to school, or to church (where stuffed dummy parishioners join the ensemble in the pews to our great amusement) or wherever the narrative needs. Helping us along in the passage of events is some of the nicest, subtlest daytime/nighttime lighting I've seen in a while.
So, I'll only re-visit my misgivings to say this: Twain purists (we all know at least one of these, right?) may squirm at some of the conventions and conceits at play here—so much window-dressing, they might harrumph, picking a thread from their suede elbow-patches. Well what these conventions and conceits amount to is (wait for it) theatricality! Dagnabit, it doesn't need to be a straight reading of Twain. His words are certainly being spoken (if fewer of them) and the omniscient narrator does appear in the form of interstitial expository monologues over some scene changes. This is an exhilarating, emotional show with exceptional energy. Will it become canon? Who knows? But if there's going to be balloting I think it's got my vote.
