Mats Rudels
Dancers on a dark stage dressed in the costumes of Mohawk Man, Puppet Master and China Dolls.
The excellent cast of dancers includes Edward Salas, left, Alex Trofka, Carolyn Fitzgerald, Hannah King, Stormy Gaylord and Miye Bishop.
Come into my boat and cross over into this Stygian carnival, if you dare! That is the invitation from choreographer Robert E. Cleary, collaborator Lisa Thurrell, and Kanopy dancers in their performance of Cleary’s Puppet Master.
The dance opens with the Puppet Master, danced by Alex Trofka, gleefully kneading space with his hands as he gloats like a demented 2 year old over those in his power. If the show was an English pantomime, the audience would hiss the villainous Puppet Master and cheer on our hero, Mohawk Man, danced by Edward Salas dressed in an intricately patterned and sparkly outfit and wearing a mohawk in the colors of a tropical parrot.
Our wandering hero finds himself in a dangerous society presided over by a narcissistic tyrant accompanied by his dead yet immortal female companions, the China Dolls, assisted by the ghoulish gargoyle Shrouds, and further populated by an acquiescing Greek chorus. Mohawk Man is swept up in the dance, or puzzled and disoriented, or exhausted, or resisting.
At first the China Dolls seem alike, prancing on their toes, arms up like goal posts. But then Miye Bishop in blue is Chaplinesque, performing a graceful duet with Mohawk Man, leaping into his arms and batting her eyes. Carolyn Fitzgibbons, dressed in gold, blossoms in a glorious lift by Salas. Hannah King in red is a mean girl China Doll, gladly helping the Puppet Master control Mohawk Man and the abused and rebel Doll, Stormy Gaylord in green, who falls in love with our hero.
The Puppet Master is determined to inflict his own form of controlling love on Mohawk Man and add him to his society, but his control is intermittent. Salas snaps in and out of rag doll passivity. In the second act, the Puppet Master commands him to dance, and he rises from the floor of a deserted stage and responds with an elegant series of pirouettes and jumps, balancing on one leg, arms thrown wide, the whole world open before him — and us. He finishes with his back to us on the floor in a spotlight, arm raised in triumph.
Every member of the chorus is fun to watch, but look especially for the barely restrained delight of Madison Dabalos in her moments onstage.
The chorus performs a pretty dance in the dark to a marvelous lighting cue by Brad Toberman. He sets a dozen magenta overhead lights to pop on and off to the rhythm of plucked cello notes, creating a gentle butterfly effect. Throughout the dance the blues, magentas, reds and golds of Toberman’s lights bring out the colors and sparkles of David Quinn’s costumes.
Toward the end of the first act, a trio of Shrouds threaten to steal the show. They stalk onto an empty stage, throw punches and kicks and move with martial grace, every so often lifting their face veils to make ghoulish faces at us. The accompanying music is by symphonic metal group Apocalyptica; the cellos create a driving, fierce rhythm.
The second act begins with a dance of mixed messages. Salas and others pirouette slowly on one foot, the other raised over the crouching body of the partner, until the raised foot comes to rest on the partner’s back. The movements are lovely but strained.
Mohawk Man and Stormy Gaylord’s China Doll become more deeply involved yet continually torn apart. Mohawk Man is foolishly seduced by the applause of the chorus for his dancing. Perhaps we are all capable of being narcissists. The backing music, a recording of German punk queen Nina Hagen’s growling performance with the Apocalyptica cellists of the song “Seemann” by the German metal band Rammstein, anchors musically the finale of the seething, despairing, hopelessly romantic dance.
In the final dramatic scene, Mohawk Man attacks the Puppet Master one last time but becomes limp on the Puppet Master’s arm. The Puppet Master drives his hand into a convulsing chest and rips out and eats Mohawk Man’s heart. Gaylord soothes Mohawk Man. She and other dolls help him into the crow’s nest of a boat formed by rowing chorus members as the Puppet Master, his cape a blowing sail, assumes the famous pose from the movie Titanic. The boat travels from our world across the river Styx, Mohawk Man in tow, but one wonders: Will the boat hit an iceberg?
Puppet Master is riveting in its dramatic interplay between sharply drawn characters, its love of Greek myth and pop culture, and the music’s edgy lyricism.
Performances of Puppet Master continue on Oct. 3 at 7 p.m., Oct. 4 at 4 and 7 p.m., and Oct. 5 at 2 p.m. at the Promenade Hall of the Overture Center.
