Glimmers of terrible beauty amidst a savage, age-old battle of man versus nature.
The beauty of a novel like Moby Dick has always lain in how open to interpretation it is, where everything from the tumult of the sea, to the conversations between crewmates, to the chase for the elusive white whale itself becomes a metaphor for whatever one might be going through in life at the moment, making it nigh universally-applicable. But Herman Melville’s novel has also always been a monster of a book, not just because of its sheer length, but also how sprawling the narrative is, with dense descriptions and entire chapters dedicated to whaling as an industry.
Any attempt to adapt it for a different medium then, is a commendable one, and for Plexus Polaire, the French-Norwegian theatre company have found a way to condense and reimagine the novel for the stage, combining projections, live action and their specialty – puppetry, to bring the epic to life. Directed by Yngvild Aspeli, who draws from her own family history of sailing and fishermen, Moby Dick is an impressive visual feast that focuses on the darker aspects of its source novel, zooming in on the savagery of nature, and the all-consuming nature of obsession, as we follow a motley crew of sailors accompanying Captain Ahab on his singleminded mission of revenge against the sperm whale that bit off his leg.
Opening the 2024 Singapore International Festival of Arts (SIFA), the spectre of death is never too far from Moby Dick, with the initial stage set-up comprising the massive carcass of a whale, stripped clean of flesh leaving only giant ribs. As the stage darkens, a troupe of performers, clad in black hoods and skull masks emerge from behind the bones, whispering of the inevitability of death, before dispersing. Throughout the play, these performers slink in and out of the light, clandestine and hidden when puppeteering each character, or appearing to signal and remind characters of their impending doom, emphasising the inherent darkness in this interpretation of Moby Dick.
In dealing with the text, Yngvild and her cast have whittled it down to choice parts, primarily narrated by Ishmael, who delivers a powerful opening monologue that also establishes his own motivations for joining the the crew of the Pequod – the ennui of life, an impossible sense of meaninglessness, and the hope of finding purpose in Ahab’s odyssey. In contrast to Ishmael’s initially more poetic fantasies of the sea, Ahab is a grizzled veteran, who knows how wild the ocean is, yet no longer cares, headstrong and stubborn in his pursuit, his crazed obsession potentially putting the entire crew’s lives in danger. One is impressed by Viktor Lukawski’s voiceover, and how it aches with age and growls with rage, summoning a guttural yell of frustration with each passing moment they get no closer to locating the whale.
Even having cut down most of the text however, Plexus Polaire has the difficult task of finding the right balance between dialogue and visuals, and oftentimes, it does feel as if it is bogged down by the textual elements, still obligated to include Melville’s rich language instead of bearing to leave it all behind. These are elements that, while appreciated on the page, can become heavy or lengthy when translated to the stage, and distract from where their true prowess lie – creating a sense of spectacle and atmosphere that mimics the terror of the seas. One might not imagine that puppets are capable of such feats, but from the very beginning, where we see tiny fish darting back and forth, and you already know that the company are experts at their craft.
Much like an animated film, Plexus Polaire displays immense imagination in utilising the stage as their blank canvas, playing with scale and the element of surprise to bring out the wrath and wonder of nature. There are moments one can’t help but gape, open-mouthed, at the show of visual splendour, making the long buildups worth it to finally see a colossal Moby Dick, spouting water from its blowhole and emanating terrifying, god-like power as the crew is completely dwarfed and helpless against it. Even in puppeteering the human characters, the use of these blank slate-style faces leave us with an uncanny valley effect, haunting with how almost-human they are with their movements, yet perhaps have been irreversibly changed by their time out at sea.
There is beauty both in the small moments, where Ishmael and Queequeg share a laugh and a joke cleaning out their spoils from the whale, or the more intense moments, particularly with Ahab’s madness, displayed with a nearly three-metre tall version of the puppet, as he pores over maps and references, a miniature whale taunting him as it flies over his head. For the latter, he is at one point even quite literally strung up by hooks at the mercy of the black-clad ensemble, regretting how much time has been wasted and realising how powerless he is to truly conquer anything.
The puppetry is also elevated from the use of other elements, such as film, allowing the team to create the feeling of being actually lost at a stormy sea, or the crew adrift after being knocked off the boat, while the lighting reflects an ebbing, flowing ocean, fear that a murderous whale could emerge at any time to eat them. The music, composed and performed live by Guro Skumsnes Moe and Ane Marthe Sørlien Holen, who stand at either side of the stage, comprises both the mimicking of the sound of realistic waves, the use of classical strings, as well as jumping into electric guitar-driven death metal during the more intense scenes, where either musician wails into their mic, as if harbingers of death while the crew helplessly battle against the elements.
Beautiful, while sombre and introspective, Moby Dick showcases a puppet theatre company at the height of their power, expertly crafting a set of puppets and marionettes that, when combined with their atmospheric music and innovative techniques in film and playing with scale, allow us to understand the immense power of nature, and the crushing solitude and hopelessness of being adrift at sea. While there are times it drags due to its need to remain loyal to the hefty text, these also act as slow moments that build up to a spectacular visual payoff that leave one both in awe and afraid, not just of the creatures that lurk beneath the ocean, but the darkness that lies within the human condition itself, and the reckless doom it could drive us towards.
Moby Dick played from 17th to 18th May 2024 at the Singtel Waterfront Theatre, as part of Singapore International Festival of Arts 2024. More information available here
SIFA 2024: They Declare runs from 17th May to 2nd June 2024 across various venues. Tickets and full programme available here
Production Credits:
| Director Yngvild Aspeli Actors / Puppeteers Pierre Devérines, Sarah Lascar, Daniel Collados, Alice Chéné, Viktor Lukawski, Maja Kunsic, Andreu Martinez Costa Alternates Alexandre Pallu, Vera Rozanova, Yann Claudel, Olmo Hidalgo, Cristina Iosif, Scott Koehler, Laëtitia Labre Music Guro Skumsnes Moe, Ane Marthe Sørlien Holen, Havard Skaset Puppet Makers Polina Borisova, Yngvild Aspeli, Manon Dublanc, Sébastien Puech, Elise Nicod Scenography Elisabeth Holager Lund Light Designer Xavier Lescat, Vincent Loubière Video Designer David Lejard-Ruffet Costume Designer Benjamin Moreau Light Technicians Vincent Loubière, Marine David Video Technicians Hugo Masson, Pierre Hubert, Emilie Delforce Sound Technicians Raphaël Barani, Simon Masson, Damien Ory Stage Technicians Benjamin Dupuis, Xavier Lescat, Margot Boche Assistant director (on tour) Benoît Seguin Assistant director (creation) Pierre Tual Dramaturg Pauline Thimonnier Production Director and Tour Booking Claire Costa Administration Anne-Laure Doucet, Gaedig Bonabesse Producer Noémie Jorez |
Bakchormeeboy 