Mowgli and the blue monkeys showdown
The scary and shocking start to this year’s children’s play didn’t include any catchy, timeless tunes. In fact, there were no tunes in the Jungle Book Tales at all. And no red underwear either. Only death and blue monkeys.
The play would have been a howling good time if there weren’t so many howls and fights. I don’t think that kids want to see animals duke it out in mortal combat. The violent blocking and dark costumes provided a haunting experience as opposed to a lighthearted, laughable time.
It felt like the actors escaped right out of the zoo with their ragged and syncopated pouncing, crawling, dancing, climbing, flying, swinging, prowling and throwing. I was convinced by and impressed with the cast.
Hannah Barker acted as Mowgli with an endearing, child-like clumsiness. But Baloo’s emphasis on the law was somewhat Pharisaic, and slightly intimidating. When he raised his hand to spank Mowgli, I was thrown back to the horror of the thousands of swats that I deservedly received as a kid.
The monkeys’ antics were entertaining and purely hilarious. Shere Khan, the evil tiger, bore her teeth with ferocity and hunger. I really thought that Becca Dix was going to eat Mowgli, burlap shirt and all.
The set was brilliant too. But a bit underused. If you’re going to build three jungle towers, use them.
The acrobatic stunts with the ropes and the blue monkeys were exciting and exuded that air of childlike wonder that the show needed. The monkeys were neon compared to all the other animals. Those “under the law” wore drab browns, maroon, denim and black. I guess living under the law isn’t as fun.
The spherical paint and Kaa’s swivel slithering accented the circular story. Mowgli also fell into the spiral story line. He found himself spinning and dizzy in the search for his place with the wolves, the monkeys, Baloo and Bagheera. Like Mowgli, many of us are searching for a place or identity, and we rotate from one place to the next, and often going back to the drawing board, or hoping for a blank slate to start the circle again.
I thought Jungle Book Tales was a well-produced play, but maybe not for kids. The acting was astounding. The make-up and hair were wild. And the set was fantastic. But the story and language were really unattainable for youngsters. Between Shakespearean English and motifs of death and guilt, I know I would have been lost and scared in my elementary days.
Sorry, Mowgli, but it’s time to go back to the man village.