Theatre in Review: Pericles: A Public Works Concert Experience (Cathedral of St. John the Divine)

	Denee Benton. Photo: Marc J. Franklin

Following the gala reopening of the Delacorte Theatre with a festive Twelfth Night, the Public Theater takes us to church, and what a glorious, roof-rattling service it is. Pericles, Prince of Tyre, which William Shakespeare either did or did not write with his colleague George Wilkinson, is one of the most confounding entries in the canon. It's a gaggle of wild plot twists -- family secrets, kidnappings, pirate raids (!), murderous games, and mysterious resurrections -- in search of a comprehensible narrative. And, in the hands of the adaptor/songwriter Troy Anthony, it proves to be a near-perfect subject for musical theatre.

Pericles begins with the title character wooing a princess in a competition, with riddles, rather like the one in The Merchant of Venice. The difference is that this game ends in a revelation of royal incest, causing the protagonist to flee in horror, leaving him at the mercy of the homicidal King Antiochus. From there, the globetrotting melodrama rarely pauses as Pericles races from country to country, ending a famine, gaining and losing a wife (in an impromptu burial at sea), getting separated from his daughter (who ends up, temporarily, in a brothel), and surviving a daunting number of nautical disasters. "Another storm?" skeptically murmurs an onlooker, and it's an excellent question.

In my experience, only once has a director (Trevor Nunn) managed to impose any order on these wildly random, barely stitched together goings-on. (More than once, the play's recognition scene, a collection of nonstop shockers resulting in a total restoration of Pericles' multiple losses, has been greeted by audiences with derisive laughter.) Anthony, however, aided by director Carl Cofield, re-envisions Pericles as a tale of renewal and redemption unfolding in a Black church setting. The bountiful, inventive score draws on multiple musical styles -- gospel, calypso, Motown, and a touch of smooth jazz -- providing the labyrinthine narrative with a sweep and emotional intelligence it otherwise lacks. Indeed, the composer finds surprising spiritual depths in Pericles' tale, reinventing it as a surprisingly satisfying parable of endurance and ultimate triumph. Based on the evidence, Anthony looks likely to follow Shaina Taub, composer of earlier Public Works productions, to even greater success.

Like all Public Works productions, Pericles combines veteran performers with non-professionals drawn from around the city and given the benefit of stage training. Here, they function as a massive church choir, adding considerable vocal heft to the bigger musical numbers. All the principals shine: Ato Blankson-Wood is a stalwart, suffering (but never self-indulgent) figure as Pericles, who secretly believes that his many tribulations are the result of a single act of weakness. "Where is your plan, O God?" he wonders in the stirring "Pericles' Prayer," and well he might ask. Denee Benton, freed from her Gilded Age corset, sashays with gusto as Thaisa, the love of Pericles' life, in the irresistible "It's My Birthday," later achieving tragic stature following a terrible series of separations. As Marina, the almost laughably virtuous daughter of Pericles and Thaisa -- forced into prostitution, she converts rather than seduces her clients -- Amina Faye ups the energy level to Himalayan heights in the gospel rouser "Find Your Light." In an eleventh-hour appearance as the goddess Diana, Alex Newell wraps up the plot in the best diva-deity manner. The role has been wittily reimagined: Given her costume and accompanying music, you can call this Diana Miss Ross.

Towering over everything is Crystal Lucas-Perry as Gower, our narrator, confidant, moral scourge, and minister of uplift. "Meanwhile," she repeatedly announces, guiding us through the latest turn of events, hectoring Pericles (her constant refrain: "Are you gonna be a man today?"), and, racing around the stage, bringing the crowd to its collective feet in the finale, "New Joy." Lucas-Perry has been a solid utility player for many seasons. Here, she leaves such a trail of stardust, dominating the action with a newfound authority.

The staging makes sensible use of the church's layout, with production designer Riw Rakkulchon's ground plan allowing for a lively pace. Rakkulchon's costumes -- a gorgeous embroidered vest for Pericles; a red processional gown for Antiochus' unhappy daughter; a sleek, sexy gold wrap dress for Thaisa, and an elaborate, caped white ensemble for Gower -- suggest that this young designer has even more to offer than one previously suspected. The lighting by Melissa Mizell, a new face, beautifully carves the company out of the darkness, covers the upstage pillars and wall with saturated colors, and floods the center aisle with light for various theatrical entrances, including a drum corps. Working in a sonically treacherous space, Justin Stasiw and Walter Trarbach keep the action surprisingly intelligible.

Not everything works: This is still Pericles, after all, and, at times, the action feels so arbitrary that one's mind occasionally wanders. This is especially true in some of the later scenes, when the text (not the score) must do the heavy lifting. Also, more than in most Public Works productions, the skills gap between the pros and non-pros is a tad too evident.

Any niggling, however, is swept aside by Anthony and Cofield's astonishingly apt concept: Whether Greek tragedy or The Second Shepherd's Play, Western drama is rooted in religious ritual, and the churchly setting of this Pericles is ideal for a musical about communities and families rendered and renewed. It's a daring concept: In these dark days, a production of the Public, the most politically engaged of theatres, dares us to consider that, in Gower's words, "Joy is available." No wonder the packed audience practically blows the roof off the cathedral.

Even though this production ended its brief run last night, I've somehow chosen to write about it in the present tense, if only because I can't quite believe it is gone so soon. (Public Works productions are necessarily brief, if only because the members of the company have other lives to live.) Still, there's no question that it has provided the new season with an unexpected jolt. Even better, Pericles and Twelfth Night suggest that Off Broadway's longest-running company faces the future with renewed energy and an almost subversive message: We're all in this together. It's hard to argue with that. --David Barbour