Posted on Fri, Nov. 26, 2004
Deaf West Theatre production is more, not less.
By Desmond Ryan
Inquirer Theater Critic
Ask lovers of Mark Twain's The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn to name an episode that hinges on hearing and they will most likely pick the anguished recollection of the fugitive slave Jim.
When he thought his 4-year-old daughter was ignoring him, Jim beat the child, only to later discover that she had lost her hearing and voice to scarlet fever. The re-creation of his tormented guilt makes a poignant and emblematic moment in Big River, an extraordinary revival staged by the Deaf West Theatre of Los Angeles that deploys the communicative skills of those who cannot hear to let us see Twain's immortal fable in a different light.
The production, now touring after justly acclaimed runs in Los Angeles and later on Broadway, is presented at the Academy of Music. In both conception and execution it is far superior to run-of-the-mill road-company fare.
Big River, with music and lyrics by Roger Miller, took several Tonys on Broadway two decades ago. The current edition, which uses deaf, hearing-impaired and hearing actors is, first of all, a remarkable feat of coordination orchestrated by director Jeff Calhoun.
To watch the performers - with the hearing actors singing and delivering the dialogue and the others using gesture, dance and American Sign Language - is to be astonished at the logistics of such seamless synchronization.
Despite what you might assume, the difference between this Big River and a conventional production turns out to be a matter of addition rather than subtraction. Those of us not fluent in sign language can hear the dialogue and, in broad outline, appreciate the eloquence and precision of the signed translation. When Huck (the gifted deaf actor Tyrone Giordano) is torn by the moral dilemmas posed by his wish to free Jim, the projection of his turmoil is vividly expressive.
The show is narrated by Daniel Jenkins (who played Huck in the original Broadway production) as Twain. Besides unfolding the story, Jenkins handles Huck's dialogue and songs and plays several instruments - a graceful piece of multitasking.
Big River follows the main events of Huck's journey as he escapes his violent father and sets off down the Mississippi with Jim (Michael McElroy), who hopes to make it to the North and freedom. Their adventures along the way, mostly involving the river con-men Duke (Troy Kotsur) and King (Erick Devine), form the bulk of the narrative.
Big River, whether in a conventional staging or the Deaf West Theatre edition, is a musical that can't hope to do more than skim the surface of what is widely held to be the greatest American novel. The waters of Twain's river are deep, and in William Hauptman's book only Huck and Jim begin to suggest that profundity.
The other characters in the large cast, who are such a rich and unforgettable presence in the book, are here flat and functional. This is a weakness that especially counts with King and Duke, who need to be more than silent-movie scoundrels.
The exception in the supporting roles is the idea of having two actors, one deaf and one hearing, simultaneously play Huck's unsavory and intemperate father. It's a bold and effective move that captures the confusion and division of Huck's relationship with his father.
Calhoun's direction of the elaborate narrative is greatly helped by Ray Klausen's ingenious set. It presents us with the pages of Twain's book, complete with illustrations, through which the actors and the action move fluidly.
Miller's score is best in its gospel and spiritual numbers, and the show is lucky to have two prime voices in McElroy and Gwen Stewart as Alice.
But, in the end, it's the voices of those actors we do not hear that make this voyage down the Mississippi so rewarding and affecting.
A broader, deeper 'Big River'
Deaf West Theatre production is more, not less.
By Desmond Ryan
Inquirer Theater Critic
Ask lovers of Mark Twain's The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn to name an episode that hinges on hearing and they will most likely pick the anguished recollection of the fugitive slave Jim.
When he thought his 4-year-old daughter was ignoring him, Jim beat the child, only to later discover that she had lost her hearing and voice to scarlet fever. The re-creation of his tormented guilt makes a poignant and emblematic moment in Big River, an extraordinary revival staged by the Deaf West Theatre of Los Angeles that deploys the communicative skills of those who cannot hear to let us see Twain's immortal fable in a different light.
The production, now touring after justly acclaimed runs in Los Angeles and later on Broadway, is presented at the Academy of Music. In both conception and execution it is far superior to run-of-the-mill road-company fare.
Big River, with music and lyrics by Roger Miller, took several Tonys on Broadway two decades ago. The current edition, which uses deaf, hearing-impaired and hearing actors is, first of all, a remarkable feat of coordination orchestrated by director Jeff Calhoun.
To watch the performers - with the hearing actors singing and delivering the dialogue and the others using gesture, dance and American Sign Language - is to be astonished at the logistics of such seamless synchronization.
Despite what you might assume, the difference between this Big River and a conventional production turns out to be a matter of addition rather than subtraction. Those of us not fluent in sign language can hear the dialogue and, in broad outline, appreciate the eloquence and precision of the signed translation. When Huck (the gifted deaf actor Tyrone Giordano) is torn by the moral dilemmas posed by his wish to free Jim, the projection of his turmoil is vividly expressive.
The show is narrated by Daniel Jenkins (who played Huck in the original Broadway production) as Twain. Besides unfolding the story, Jenkins handles Huck's dialogue and songs and plays several instruments - a graceful piece of multitasking.
Big River follows the main events of Huck's journey as he escapes his violent father and sets off down the Mississippi with Jim (Michael McElroy), who hopes to make it to the North and freedom. Their adventures along the way, mostly involving the river con-men Duke (Troy Kotsur) and King (Erick Devine), form the bulk of the narrative.
Big River, whether in a conventional staging or the Deaf West Theatre edition, is a musical that can't hope to do more than skim the surface of what is widely held to be the greatest American novel. The waters of Twain's river are deep, and in William Hauptman's book only Huck and Jim begin to suggest that profundity.
The other characters in the large cast, who are such a rich and unforgettable presence in the book, are here flat and functional. This is a weakness that especially counts with King and Duke, who need to be more than silent-movie scoundrels.
The exception in the supporting roles is the idea of having two actors, one deaf and one hearing, simultaneously play Huck's unsavory and intemperate father. It's a bold and effective move that captures the confusion and division of Huck's relationship with his father.
Calhoun's direction of the elaborate narrative is greatly helped by Ray Klausen's ingenious set. It presents us with the pages of Twain's book, complete with illustrations, through which the actors and the action move fluidly.
Miller's score is best in its gospel and spiritual numbers, and the show is lucky to have two prime voices in McElroy and Gwen Stewart as Alice.
But, in the end, it's the voices of those actors we do not hear that make this voyage down the Mississippi so rewarding and affecting.