It’s a testament to the narrative audacity of Life of Pi that even if you haven’t read Yann Martel’s 2001 novel—a literary sensation which scooped the Booker Prize and sold more than 12 million copies—it’s likely that you will know its startling premise: following a shipwreck in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, a teenage boy is forced to share a lifeboat with a Bengal tiger.
While I haven’t read Martel’s much-loved book, I had the pleasure of watching Max Webster’s staging of the novel—skilfully adapted by Lolita Chakrabarti—when it was first staged at the Sheffield Crucible in 2019. It was an electrifying production—full of magic and wonder—and I left the theatre hoping that it would transfer to London and enjoy the popularity of shows like War Horse and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time. The production’s London transfer was delayed by COVID, but it became a huge critical and commercial success when it eventually opened at Wyndham’s Theatre in 2019.
Having adored Life of Pi the first time round, I felt the trepidation one sometimes experiences upon returning to a much-loved artwork. While this touring production retains all the key creatives who worked on the original staging, I was concerned that some aspects of the show might seem less impressive on a revisit.
I’m happy to report that Life of Pi remains a striking work of theatrical storytelling, in which Chakrabarti skilfully weaves together scenes of Pi (Divesh Subaskaran) answering questions from a hospital bed in Canada with flashbacks to the extraordinary events that brought him there from his home in India.
Some readers have found philosophical profundity in Martel’s original novel, with President Barack Obama describing it as an "elegant proof of God, and the power of storytelling." While Chakrabati doesn’t shy away from the novel’s spiritual themes, they are not allowed to overrun the play. Instead, the play is motored by an exciting narrative of survival, with Pi squaring off against Richard Parker, a fearsome tiger (brought to life on this occasion by Fred Davis, Kate Rowsell and Peter Twose).
The puppetry used in this show—designed by Nick Barnes and Finn Caldwell—is the finest I have ever seen. Richard Parker is undoubtedly the star of the show, but a menagerie of animals, including a hyena, an orangutan and a goat, are also brought to vivid life.
The magical quality of the puppets is also carried through into Tim Hatley’s set design and Andrzej Goulding’s video projections, with the clinical hospital room in which Pi is convalescing smoothly morphing into the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The image of Pi and Richard Parker sitting in a boat underneath a starlit sky will linger long in my memory.
Certain critics have taken issue with the play’s characters, suggesting that they are two-dimensional. However, while I don’t disagree that they are often defined by a small number of sharply defined traits, this felt appropriate to the fable-like nature of the story and the fact that it is told from Pi’s youthful perspective.
Life of Pi marks the professional debut of Divesh Subaskaran, and his superb performance in the title role is an indicator of great things to come. Not only does he handle the physical challenges of the role with lithe assurance, he also manages to convey Pi’s wit, moral seriousness and psychological distress.
The rest of the cast do a fine job of bringing life to the supporting characters, with Bhawna Bhawsar, Ralph Birtwell and Vinesh Veerasami giving memorable turns as Pi’s family.
I was concerned that Max Webster’s original in-the-round staging might lose something important in its translation to a proscenium arch stage. While this production of Life of Pi might not have the same level of intimacy that it previously did, it is still a mightily impressive piece of theatre.