Nobody Nose What to Expect

This weekend the National Ballet of Canada premieres its newest full-length story ballet, Pinocchio.

And now you know what is meant by the pun in the title of this post!

But there is method in my madness, because settling into my seat for a premiere of a new work is always a voyage into the unknown.  And as I face the prospect of trying to review a new work, I always worry about how much of it will escape me on first viewing.  That's due to the simple fact that I watch, listen, absorb, but don't try to take any written notes.

So I've decided again to solve the problem by taking in two performances, the matinees on Saturday (the actual first performance) and Sunday -- which neatly bracket the "official" opening performance on Saturday night.  This normally would mean that I would get to see two different casts in the lead roles.  After I was seated for the Saturday show, I found out that the only difference in the casting was the presence of two different dancers in the title role.  The powers-that-be have cast the entire run of 12 performances with only two casts, except that the role of Pinocchio is shared by three dancers.  

Note:  before we go any further, this is not the cutesy Disney "Pinocchio".  Nor is it the preachy, moralistic original novel by Carlo Collodi.  His first version of the story even ended with Pinocchio being gruesomely hanged for his misdeeds, rather like the German folk figure of Till Eulenspiegel!

This new Pinocchio is the product of a very gifted creative team, headed up by choreographer Will Tuckett.  He and his colleagues have achieved a remarkable feat.  This production has enough action, stagecraft, and broadly-based humour to hold onto active younger minds, at the same time as it invites deeper thought and speculation from the older members of the audience.  In short, a balletic entertainment for everyone, perhaps more so than any other production in the National Ballet's current repertoire.

Another first-place finish: there has never been a ballet in the National's repertoire, ever, which had so much flying going on!  It's not just showy; it's all done to illustrate clearly some important aspect of the story and in that sense it's very effective at heightening (pardon the pun) the emotional impact of certain key scenes.

The most critical departure from the traditions of the ballet is the incorporation of spoken text to advance the story and explain some of the motivations of the characters.  Traditionally this narrative function is done by means of elaborate and (sometimes unclear) mime sequences.  In all my years of ballet-going I can only recall one other production which incorporated the spoken word to any extent.

I want to start right there, with the spoken text by Alasdair Middleton.  It's all in rhyming couplets, my least favourite form of poetry.  Most of the time it works well, but there are a couple of spots where it becomes too obvious -- both as to the next rhyme and in explaining what is already clear from the stage picture.  For smaller children, a definite plus; for adults, it could seem rather lame.

No such criticism attaches to Paul Englishby's original music for this ballet.  It's stronger than most modern ballet scores known to me, with themes and motifs that definitely stand up to extended development in longer scenes.  The orchestration is also vivid, clear, and varied enough to give the fine National Ballet Orchestra a much higher-quality playing experience than they sometimes are offered.

 The other aspect of this Pinocchio which may not wear well is the overt Canadianism of some of the scenes.  The show does get a little silly at times with this although the silliness is good for a few laughs on first viewing.   Beavers don't trot around the country dressed as middle-class tourists, and the Mounties certainly don't go onto active police duty wearing the scarlet full-dress tunic.  On the flip side, the fluid ballet of lumberjacks in the first scene is one of the great delights of the entire work, and the use of a Maritime fishing village for the seashore scenes lends a welcome touch of homespun comfort to those sequences.   I found some of this a little less effective on second viewing.

On the other hand, there are several character roles in the piece which offer scope for the National's gifted team of character artists to shine.  The Schoolmistress appears twice, once in each act, and is aptly named because she is far too old-fashioned and rigid in her approach to really be called a Teacher!  Rebekah Rimsay did fine work, not only in forcibly marching her class around the stage but also in clearly speaking the lines of her text.  I felt a little sorry for her (but only a little) when her charges rebelled and ran away in Act II.

The bar scene gave Stephanie Hutchison a great little cameo as a rough-spoken barmaid.  Bright red dress and classic white apron flashing, hips leaping from side to side as she walked, feet planted well apart on the ground as she stood by a table, she was a clunky caricature of a bar server.  I always get a good laugh from watching a graceful dancer like Hutchison do something so graceless.  Her speaking voice was of a piece with her character's physicality.  The briefer appearances of the Mountie and the Beavers (all uncredited) were other good examples.

The Ringmaster of the Funland amusement park/circus was a creepy clown figure, again involving a mixture of character work and some dance steps.  Evan McKie certainly conveyed the sinister side of the character in both facial expression and physical carriage.

The Blue Fairy's Five Shadows play a very important role in the show.  They carry most of the action forward, through movement and dance certainly (mostly slow and elegant) but also, and even more, by speaking most of the lines of text.  Guillaume Cote, Harrison James, Antonella Martinelli, Sonia Rodriguez, and Xiao Nan Yu all did beautifully here -- the deliberate pacing of their speeches made sure that all of the text carried clearly out to the house, while the grace of their dancing sequences emphasized their connection to the magical side of the story.

On to the roles which are predominantly danced.

This ballet doesn't offer as much scope to the corps de ballet as some works, but there are a few great chorus sequences all the same; the lumberjack ballet already mentioned, and the underwater ballet in Act II are prime examples.  Another is the class of school children, which appears twice and has a notable moment in Act II where the children go to Funland and get changed into donkeys -- cleverly simulated by using aluminum crutches as front legs.  My own favourite is the final scene in the fishing village, with the graceful folk dance inspired by the traditional reel.

The largest of the character roles, and one that involves a fair amount of dancing as well, was the role of Geppetto, Pinocchio's adoptive father.  Jonathan Renna aptly captured the emotional states of this character throughout the piece, and especially in his unhappy solos over the disappearance of Pinocchio.  Also very special was his handling of the heartfelt moment when Pinocchio kneels to him and begs forgiveness.

The major villains of the piece are a Fox and a Cat.  Both were dressed in human clothes with head-dresses conveying their animal nature.  The best word to describe the choreography for these two is "sinuous"; somehow I got the impression that both of them had elastic bands replacing their spinal columns.  Jillian Vanstone's Cat was wickedly good at this, as she prowled about the stage, but Felix Paquet's Fox certainly didn't get left behind, his energy nicely counterpointing her finesse.  These two managed to be both comical and dangerous at the same time, giving the audience plenty of laughs and a few shivers too.

The most classical part of the entire show is the role of the Blue Fairy, Pinocchio's guardian, protector, and teacher.  Her sparkling blue wings and flaring blue tutu proclaim her to be of another world from everyone else, while her curly red 1950s wig adds an unexpected but effective touch of contrasting colour, and makes her seem a little less remote or ethereal.

Her part calls for a great deal of air time: she is frequently lifted by one or two of the Shadows, and has a number of leaps on her own account.  Hannah Fischer certainly showed us all the contrasting sides of the Fairy's character, and her dancing throughout was graceful as well as imbued with meaning.  This was especially true of her pas de deux with Pinocchio -- certainly not romantic, but suggestive of a teaching moment, of role modelling perhaps.  More than either, Fischer in this beautiful duet radiated an almost maternal care and concern for her young charge.

Which brings us finally to the title role.

CONFLICT OF INTEREST ALERT:  My nephew, Robert Stephen, was one of the two dancers I saw in this part -- no surprise there!

The choreographer and company have decided to divide performances of the title role among three dancers, and all three share a certain boyishness of appearance that will serve them well in this particular part.  It's by far the largest role in this ballet, and requires exceptional attention by the dancer to kinds of physical detail not often found in the world of ballet.

The first performance I saw was given by Jack Bertinshaw.  His Pinocchio graduated visibly and fairly quickly from the angular motions of the first scene to a more natural style of dancing, which then continued to develop further as the show moved along.  He had great stage presence at all times, and showed clearly not only Pinocchio's longing to become better but also his weakness in allowing himself to be tempted aside by various attractions.  The longing became even more pronounced during the underwater scene in the final moments of Act I.  His desperate reaching out to Geppetto was a true emotional peak in his performance.  He also moved very effectively into the more classical idiom of the pas de deux with the Blue Fairy.  I certainly look forward to seeing him take on other substantial roles!

Robert Stephen's approach was a little more graduated.  He held onto the angular aspect of Pinocchio's movement longer, making the transition a little less immediate, and so less obvious.  This worked especially well for him in his interactions with others, such as the school children, the Fox and Cat, or the giant puppets and their controlling silver ribbons (an extraordinarily complex scene to rehearse, I'm sure).  His highlights included the Funland scene where he moved most believably and energetically after being turned into a donkey.  Also, that brief moment of admitting his fault and begging Geppetto to forgive him resonated with emotional truth.

Both dancers were hilarious in the opening scene where Geppetto tries to figure out how to teach Pinocchio to move and walk.  It's actually quite a challenge to convey much emotion when part of your face is penumbraed by your proboscis, but both Bertinshaw and Stephen developed a wonderful expression of puzzlement which greatly added to the physical fun during this comic scene.  Both of them also rang all the right emotional changes during the final transformation scene where Pinocchio finally becomes a human boy.

By now, you're wondering, "Is he ever going to say anything about the Nose?"  Well, yes.  There is a nose, and it does grow right before your eyes -- when it works.  In the two shows I saw, it worked once and didn't work the other time -- it's unfortunate, but things like this happen in all types of live theatre.  Here's hoping they can get it fixed so it works properly every time.

Pinocchio continues at the Four Seasons Centre in Toronto until March 24.  It's funny, it's touching, it's definitely family-appropriate, and it's a great fusion of dance, acting, stagecraft, and wonderful music.  This show is a do-not-miss!