Suspension of disbelief not required in visually stunning ‘Life of Pi’ at PPAC

PROVIDENCE – There is an unspoken contract between the creators of theater and those attending it. 

We in the audience agree that the artificiality of what is taking place on stage – the stylized unfolding of a scripted narrative, the representation of a time and a place that is not necessarily our own and the incarnation of invented others by actors – will be accepted as real. For the length of the production, we allow ourselves to suspend disbelief in the authenticity of the world being manufactured for us so that we can get lost in it and be moved by it.  

Suspension of disbelief is an automatic reflex for avid theatergoers, who have grown accustomed to the practice. But it takes some getting used to for novices who cannot help but see Denzel Washington on the Broadway stage rather than the Othello in Cyprus in the late 16th century he is attempting to be.

In turn, actors like Denzel agree to bring as much verisimilitude to their performances as their talent and training allow, and directors and designers agree to employ inconspicuous, well-honed stagecraft to mask much of the artifice. 

But not the director (Max Webster) and scenic designer (Tim Hatley) in “Life of Pi,” an epic play that debuted in the United Kingdom in 2019, paid a visit to the American Repertory Theater in Cambridge, Massachusetts, prior to opening on Broadway in 2023 and is currently on tour and at the Providence Performing Arts Center.

The play is Lolita Chakrabarti’s adaptation of Yann Martel’s international bestselling novel of the same name. It features a 16-year-old boy named Pi (Taha Mandviwala) who survives on a lifeboat in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with four companions – a hyena, a zebra, an orangutan and a Royal Bengal tiger. He was shipwrecked when the Japanese cargo ship carrying him from India to Canada sinks in a storm, killing his family (Sorab Wadia, Jessica Angleskahn and Sharayu Mahale) and freeing the animals from the family’s ramshackle zoo that were accompanying them on the trip.

The script begins where the novel ended, with an officious Japanese insurance man (Alan Ariano) and empathetic Canadian diplomat (Mi Kang) trying to get to the bottom of how Pi, who is in a sterile hospital room, was washed up on the Mexican shore 227 days after being shipwrecked. As the reluctant Pi tells his tale – one infused with plenty of questions and commentary about spirituality and metaphysics – the play cuts back and forth between the hospital room, colorful and vivid scenes of his life prior to the shipwreck and his perilous journey at sea. 

And all the while, the production purposefully showcases the brilliant artistry behind its creation rather than hides it.

The life-sized animals aboard the rotating lifeboat are magnificent puppets, created by Nick Barnes and Finn Caldwell, that are manually manipulated by two or three clearly visible puppeteers. Their form and function draws on the Japanese stylings of Bunraku and not – as many misinformed parents and frightened children in attendance discovered – Jim Henson’s Muppets.

 The visibility of the puppeteers is a deliberate choice that not only exposes the art of storytelling, which is masterfully executed, but reminds us that the animals on stage are creations of Pi's memory and the hallucinations he experiences from thirst and hunger aboard the lifeboat. 

The illusion of the Pacific Ocean, the creation of a star-saturated sky and the seamless transformation from one exotic location to another are generated by way of Andrzej Goulding’s animated video projections, Tim Lutkin and Tim Deiling’s mesmerizing lighting design and Hatley’s clever scenic and costume design. 

The one creative choice that does not work in this production is the overly affected acting style embraced by members of the cast. It’s as if everything said bears incredible weight and everyone is trying to speak above Andrew T. Mackay’s musical underscoring, which is unnecessary given Carolyn Downing’s well-balanced sound design.

Mandviwala as Pi is particularly guilty of over-the-top delivery, so much so that he leaves himself nowhere to go emotionally after peaking in the first scene of the play. Fortunately, everything else about his performance – the endearing persona, the passion and the astounding physicality – is brilliant.  

Pi’s journey lasted 227 days, but this touring production has a much shorter stay. Grab a ticket, and lean into this piece of truly unique storytelling.

Bob Abelman is an award-winning theater critic who also writes for The Boston Globe. Connect with him on Facebook.