The Royal Shakespeare Company doesn’t usually sell a full lineup before opening, especially with a new play. But then, she never had the nerve to show one of the world’s most beloved animated films, which explains why there are so few tickets left for 15 weeks of this Studio Ghibli remake “My Neighbor Totoro.” But adapting a venerable anime title is too risky. Can quite such cinematic material convey a live audience? Fortunately, with uniquely innovative director Willem McDermott at the helm, almost all doubts evaporate.
McDermott, whose productions of brooding Philip Glass operas — the highly saturated color “Akhenaten” at the English National Opera and the Metropolitan Museum, and “Satyagraha” with Miles of Scotch tape — made his name co-founder of the improbably fictional mini-theatre. For anything that seems unfixable, he’s the right guy. Perhaps that is why it was recorded to provide a story about two young girls and their emotional encounters with ghosts, countless animals, multiple locations, and the unknown giant forest spirit Totoro who roars but never speaks.
This production, and McDermott’s work as a whole, is the antithesis of what director Stephen Daldry once called “Robber Theatre,” where the lights periodically turn black and theater workers come to steal and swap furniture. This is what you see is what you get. You can see how it works.
As with previous passionate puppet shows such as “War Horse” by Marianne Elliott and Tom Morris, the puppets and their black-clad handlers, as well as massive effects mechanisms, are always visible. But magic is never sacrificed – arguably improved. This is much evident in the gasps of pleasure from children glued to individual moments, and adults are fascinated by recording exactly how they are achieved.
All of this is subtly prefaced by an opening image of a front curtain on a film screen which, after offering a nod to the film’s initial credits, is then shown comically. He then rises on the painted back canvas of Tom Bay and a pickup truck carrying a family moving to the country, which reproduces exactly the opening scenes. But after the characters of girls Satsuki (Ami Okumura Jones) and Mei (Mi Mak) and playful father (Dai Tabuchi) are established, the literal approach fades.
From there on, all bets are off and the design team allows ripping with pretty much every type of puppeteer, plus giant set pieces, inflatables and more, all organized into large-scale theatrical storytelling. As a feast for the eyes, it is currently unparalleled. This was honored by prominent Japanese composer Joe Hisaishi, who remixed his soundtrack and added reflective songs (performed by a live singer with a ten-piece band, full of tuned tunes, perched high above the set).
Any doubts about the show creep into the script. The origin story is lively and poignant, but its wonders lie in the visual narration, not in the dialogue that young Westerners are familiar with either through dubbing or translation. And, as with Frozen and other titles that kids almost memorize upon repeated viewings, production hands are somewhat tied: this is not material to be taken in an entirely new direction. As a result, Tom Morton Smith’s adaptation was faithful and elegant, but anyone new to the material in search of a satisfying, fast-paced plot is likely to be disappointed.
But given the long queues for merchandise after the show, it’s clear that fans are more than happy. And given the smile-inducing wonders of theatrical fantasy on screen, it’s no surprise.
The Royal Shakespeare Company has long escaped the boundaries of its name, releasing Nicholas Nickleby, Wolf Hall and Matilda into the world of theater. The song “My Neighbor Totoro” may not quite match the record-breaking potential of “Les Miserables,” but to quote the poet, it is, without a doubt, a “very clear hit.”
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