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When gasps turn to giggles
"The Lion King' gets the tour treatment
Steve Cohen
As a work of art, the traveling stage production of The Lion King looks as gorgeous as ever. I say that as one who was lucky enough to see this iconic musical the night after its Broadway opening in November 1997. To my pleasant surprise, the show still looks fresh. The Academy of Music stage is smaller and the number of extras is reduced, but this touring Disney production looks as bright as if it were new.
Julie Taymor's costumes and mask and puppet designs remain breathtakingly innovative. This production evokes Africa as a golden sun rises on an orange set while birds on poles flitter above the audience's heads, lion-masked actors prowl and wooden antelopes lope across the stage and papier-mâché elephants galumph down the aisles.
The changes in the way the show is played, however, are not as salutary.
Even when The Lion King was new, the low-comedy interludes with a hornbill, a meerkat and a flatulent warthog jarred awkwardly against the serious coming-of-age story. Now the spirit of flip humor seems to infect even the plot's sentimental parts. Inspiring scenes that audiences once greeted with gasps of awe now attract giggles. The entrance of the elephants, for example, used to draw applause; this week the audience laughed at it.
The show appears to be aiming at younger viewers with this approach, but that would underestimate the tastes of youngsters. My son was five when we took him to the show in New York. He loved it and remembers it vividly. When I took him this week, as a teenager, he was disappointed. He pointed out how the shaman woman Rafiki used to make everyone jump to attention when she opened the show with her African chant: "Nants ingonyama bagithi baba." Now the performer (Phindile Mkhize) whines the lines and the audience giggles.
Similarly, the villain Scar used to come on scary, albeit with a sense of unctuous theatricality. Now Brent Harris plays his part like a parody of a drag queen.
I don't fault the actors, who are professionals. Rather, I blame their supervisors. Taymor and her staff have done such a great job maintaining the look of The Lion King, and I wish more were done to elevate its tone as a human drama.
The instrumental execution also seems to be coasting. Although the conductor kept bobbing her head in rhythm throughout the show (in a manner that outdid even what Leonard Bernstein used to be criticized for), the percussionists in the side boxes lacked the flair that I remember from the past.
Julie Taymor's costumes and mask and puppet designs remain breathtakingly innovative. This production evokes Africa as a golden sun rises on an orange set while birds on poles flitter above the audience's heads, lion-masked actors prowl and wooden antelopes lope across the stage and papier-mâché elephants galumph down the aisles.
The changes in the way the show is played, however, are not as salutary.
Even when The Lion King was new, the low-comedy interludes with a hornbill, a meerkat and a flatulent warthog jarred awkwardly against the serious coming-of-age story. Now the spirit of flip humor seems to infect even the plot's sentimental parts. Inspiring scenes that audiences once greeted with gasps of awe now attract giggles. The entrance of the elephants, for example, used to draw applause; this week the audience laughed at it.
The show appears to be aiming at younger viewers with this approach, but that would underestimate the tastes of youngsters. My son was five when we took him to the show in New York. He loved it and remembers it vividly. When I took him this week, as a teenager, he was disappointed. He pointed out how the shaman woman Rafiki used to make everyone jump to attention when she opened the show with her African chant: "Nants ingonyama bagithi baba." Now the performer (Phindile Mkhize) whines the lines and the audience giggles.
Similarly, the villain Scar used to come on scary, albeit with a sense of unctuous theatricality. Now Brent Harris plays his part like a parody of a drag queen.
I don't fault the actors, who are professionals. Rather, I blame their supervisors. Taymor and her staff have done such a great job maintaining the look of The Lion King, and I wish more were done to elevate its tone as a human drama.
The instrumental execution also seems to be coasting. Although the conductor kept bobbing her head in rhythm throughout the show (in a manner that outdid even what Leonard Bernstein used to be criticized for), the percussionists in the side boxes lacked the flair that I remember from the past.
What, When, Where
The Lion King. Songs by composer Elton John and Tim Rice, score by Hans Zimmer; directed by Julie Taymor. Through Saturday, April 24, 2010 at Academy of Music, Broad and Locust Sts. (215) 731-3333 or www.kimmelcenter.org.
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