Metamorphoses
Just to be clear, this is not the Kafka play about the guy who turns into a bug. Although that story might actually fit in pretty well with this show come to think of it.
Instead this is Mary Zimmerman's "Metamorphoses," adapted from some of the poems of first century Roman poet Ovid and built around the broad theme of people turning into things: birds, trees, oceans, more trees—people turn into trees a lot in Roman myth apparently.
"Metamorphoses" first appeared at Berkeley Rep nearly 20 years ago, making Zimmerman's new Berkeley Rep production something of a revival. And the result is so smoothly executed that it feels like this play was destined for greatness and could never possibly have gone wrong.
But as Zimmerman reminds us there's really no such thing as destiny, and the richly embroidered beauty of "Metamorphoses" is actually the product of both note-perfect direction and the ageless appeal of storytelling itself.
As with past productions, the show takes place entirely around and in the water in the form of a shin-deep reflecting pool that comprises almost the entire stage space.
For some stories this aquatic element makes perfect sense, like the seminal tragedy of Alcyone (Louise Lamson), who waits fruitlessly by the sea for her lost husband and throws herself into the waves in operatic grief.
Or the gorgeous, sultry tale of Psyche (Felicity Jones Latta) and her husband Cupid (Benjamin Ismail, naked as the day he was born who navigates the hazards of the pool blindfolded). They float together in near darkness, seemingly untethered from world.
For other stories all the water admittedly mostly gets in the way, like the initial anecdote about witless King Midas and his golden touch. (Raymond Fox plays the king as an offensively ignorant CEO type who rambles about his alleged successes in a way that smothers the concept of merit, am acutely contemporary touch.)
But even at the worst of times the "aqua drama" approach keeps the show dynamic, engaging, even—pardon the term—fluid.
With more traditional staging the cast of "Metamorphoses" would have to work harder to avoid seeming affected or academic. The sheer messiness of the centerpiece element instead reminds us that acting can be untidy, difficult, and sometimes even unpredictable work.
Most of these stories are tragedies. Some, like the tale of Myrrha (a fascinatingly mercurial Sango Tajima) and her taboo infatuation with her own father, can even make skins crawl.
But "Metamorphoses" is wry and ironical and even sometimes self-aware when it needs to be. In one particularly witty scene a white-coated therapist played by Lisa Tejero narrates a myth in shadowy Jungian hodgepodge that gets increasingly funny the longer it endures.
But for the most part Zimmerman seems interested chiefly in just the honest appeal of the stories for their own sake, an uncomplicated kind appreciation of the material that's rejuvenating.
Berkeley Rep could probably stage this play every single year and keep having a hit on its hands. Certainly it's easy to imagine charmed audiences returning again and again.
And if this show turns out to be the first, the last, or even the only pay some audiences ever see at Berkeley Rep, then at least it's hard to imagine how they could possibly do much better.
"Metamorphoses" runs through March 10 at Berkeley Rep, 2025 Addison Street in Berkeley, CA. For tickets and information, call 510-647-2949 or visit Berkeleyrep.org.