Theatre in Review: The Cardinals (Under the Radar Festival/Public Theater)

	Photo credit: Graeme Braidwood

If you've been dying to see an ecclesiastical puppet show, then The Cardinals is the thing for you. If such words leave you bemused, consider yourself warned. This thoroughly original but only intermittently amusing entertainment posits a trio of princes of the Church -- when first seen, they are dressed in scarlet cassocks and wide-brimmed hats -- who stage a series of tableaux vivant, mixing human performers with puppet-theatre stagecraft. (The show's press release states that the troupe is forced to take over when their puppets go missing, but nothing that happens on stage suggests this.) Armed with cardboard sun and moon, flat pieces of insertable scenery, and layer upon layer of fabric, these puppeteering prelates recreate the Bible's greatest hits, from the creation of the world to the life of Christ. Lost among such theological mysteries, however, is the enigma of what such an entertainment is meant to signify.

Early on, the sheer ingenuity of the staging provides the best argument for the show's existence, as events recalled from Hollywood Biblical epics of one's youth are comically rendered to scale. The parting of the Red Sea is neatly accomplished with two pieces of China silk and a two-dimensional horde of escaping Israelites. Christ's appearance walking on water is cleverly handled, as is the crucifixion (see the accompanying photo) and ascension into heaven. All three men, members of the Birmingham, UK-based troupe Stan's Café, are adept at striking idiotically beatific expressions, whether impersonating Abraham at the point of killing Isaac, Moses receiving the Ten Commandments, or the Blessed Virgin Mary, reacting to big news from the angel Gabriel. (Ninety-nine percent of The Cardinals is dialogue-free.) The action is peppered with bits of backstage farce, as everyone pitches in to keep the show moving. The biggest laughs come when the troupe's stage manager, a hijab-wearing Muslim woman (Rochi Rampal), takes a break to face Mecca and pray, leaving the cast to soldier on without her assistance. Gerard Bell, playing one of the women who received Christ's body when it was taken down from the cross, is forced to break the reverent Pieta-like mood, closing the curtain with grim determination and expressing no small amount of disgust at his colleague's lack of professionalism.

Still, much of The Cardinals perplexes, beginning with the unconscionably slow opening, in which the cast putters around in the dark. (When the stage manager gives the five-minute call, she's not kidding; that much time -- an eternity if you're an audience member -- unfolds while everyone goes about his or her business.) Then there is the question of tone, which is not quite satire and not quite knockabout farce, and scene after scene unfolds without building any comic momentum or disclosing anything like a theme. Once Christ has returned to heaven, the action shifts to the Crusades and then inexplicably jumps ahead to the twentieth century, taking in the rise of the Nazis and the violence-ridden climate of today's Middle East. The final image is a suicide bomber's vest laid bare, exposing the explosive devices designed to kill. But The Cardinals proves to be hamstrung by the strictures of its format, resulting in a piece that is neither funny enough in the first half nor trenchant enough in its later passages to make any real impact.

The cast, which includes Graeme Rose and Craig Stephens, developed the show with Alia Alzoughbi, so they deserve kudos for the deftness of the performances as well as blame for not giving it a stronger comic and thematic profile. Under James Yarker's direction, the action unfolds with admirable precision, but there are many times when one wishes he'd pick up the pace. In any case, it's easy to be charmed by the work of Miguel Angel Bravo (scenic design) and Harry Trow (props), as well as Paul Arvidson's lighting, which is driven by a series of head-high ellipsoidals that surround the playing area. There is no sound designer, which suggests that the cast chose the rather bewildering lineup of "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" and Ralph Vaughn Williams (I think), some atonal pieces, and a cover of the Donna Summer classic "I Feel Love."

You might expect that, with its collision of religious sensibilities, The Cardinals might raise a few hackles, at least this week, with the entire world focused on the murderous effects of dogmatism. But it remains memorable only for the eccentricity of its concept. One can certainly admire the cleverness of its staging -- but cleverness to what purpose?--David Barbour