Fairytales should seem magical—and parts of this prequel to
J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan, (adapted by Jersey Boys co-writer Rick Elice from
humor writer Dave Barry
and suspense novelist Ridley Pearson’s best-selling 2004 children’s novel) do deliver
that sparkling sense of the impossible made possible. Without resorting to
crashing chandeliers or the web-swinging acrobatics of superheroes, directors
Roger Rees and Alex Timbers, set designer Donyale Werle, lighting designer Jeff
Croiter, and movement director Steven Hoggett construct a setting that merely
suggests scenery. With inventive simpleness, items such as ladders, toy boats,
and the actors own bodies convey an ocean voyage, a terrifying pirate attack
and shipwreck, and an island adventure merely through a collection of magical
movements: a sea storm accelerates with the mere sway and shift of the actors’
torsos and erratic splashes of light; a rope becomes doorways, stairs, and locked
rooms where captives sit in the dark waiting for rescue.
The play starts with the departure of the ship, Neverland,
and its myriad of occupants: a pirate-like crew, three helpless orphans placed in
a trunk on a dubious adventure, and a Nanny and her precocious charge, Molly.
The daughter of Captain Scott, and part of a secret group that protects star
stuff (a powerful star essence) from nefarious purposes, Molly comes off as a Sara
Crewe sort—a girl who is more adult than child—who likes to make pronouncements
such as “Something about the boy made her think she grew up,” which she says
after first meeting Boy, the future Peter Pan. Like the Frances Hodgson Burnett
character, she shares an unusual closeness with her father, who often leaves
her alone. Molly sees something extraordinary in Boy and, after a shipwreck,
they become friends as they shelter a chest of star stuff from pirates and
other evil entities.
While the storyline follows the traditional premises of
fairytales (good vs. evil, the power of friendship, the loss of love), its
constant insertion of vaudevillian, almost in-the-know hipster humor distracts
from the potential magic of its story and the original staging. More “Family
Guy” than Disney, Starcatcher
ultimately becomes grating as jokes about Philip Glass, “Can you hear me now?”
commercials, and prosciutto make puns more important than emotion. Although
billed as a play, Starcatcher offers
several musical numbers (by composer Wayne Barker) that rarely add to the story’s
development. For instance, the second act opening number offers a line of
mermaid showgirls, mostly danced in drag by the nearly all-male cast. The
number is both humorous and fun, yet there’s no purpose to it: it’s merely a
cheap laugh.
Much of the cast from last year’s New York Theatre Workshop
production return, including Christian Borle (TV’s “Smash”), Celia Keenan-Bolger
(Tony Award nominee for The 25th
Annual... Spelling Bee), and Adam Chanler-Berat (Next to Normal). For all, it is a triumphant reunion. As Black
Stache, Borle injects the future Captain Hook with an over-the-top showiness,
making him both a villain and a clown, as his slapstick acrobatics spins him
across the stage, tripping with a dangerous precariousness over items like a
chest. The theatrical version of Sasha Baron Cohen, Borle delights as he
menaces his future adversary, Peter Pan. Keenan-Bolger gives Molly a sweetness
and humility amid her know-it-all opinions that make her a strong, relatable
multi-layered character. Chanler-Berat also shows Boy’s duality, and is both
vulnerable and steel-flinted—a man-child who has seen too much and, yet, wants
to linger in the innocence of youth despite leaving the possibilities of the
future behind. The three,
ultimately, become the sparkling stuff that makes Starcatcher enjoyable: for as the show states every villain needs
his hero. And, for Boy and Molly every child needs that special person who helps
them become what they are meant to be.
(Mezzanine; Broadway Box ticket)
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