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Theatre in Review: Butterfly (59E59)

Naomi Livingstone. Photo: Carol Rosegg

According to the press release, Butterfly is based on Madame Butterfly, but you have to squint awfully hard to see the resemblance. What this brief, wordless piece has in common with Puccini's opera is a supremely put-upon heroine whose sufferings at the hands of men are detailed to an almost sadistic degree. The title character, a kite maker, draws the attentions of a man known as Customer -- a likely name since he seems to buy an awful lot of kites. Clearly, his extensive purchases are a way to spend time with her. He begins to bring her little presents -- such as books -- which she gratefully accepts, but when he makes the tiniest advance, merely touching her hand, she recoils and sends him packing.

Meanwhile, Butterfly meets up with the amusingly named Nabokov. (Vladimir Nabokov, author of Lolita and other masterpieces, had a lifelong obsession with his butterfly collection.) The play's Nabokov is a dedicated lepidopterist, too, with an array of butterflies pinned inside boxes or kept in jars. Unlike her experience of Customer, Butterfly is smitten with Nabokov. She teaches him how to use a kite, and it's safe to say it's a case of love at first flight. All is happy until, when Nabokov is away, Customer returns and brutally rapes Butterfly. Nabokov, thinking her unfaithful, abandons her, and she is left with the consolation of a young son. For a time, they live together happily, but Butterfly, the play, takes another, darker turn before coming in for a final landing.

Butterfly is not without artistry. All three performers -- Naomi Livingstone as Butterfly, Chris Alexander as Customer, and Ramesh Meyyappan as Nabokov -- are skilled at the subtle art of pantomime; there isn't even a hint of overacting. Meyyappan is also skilled at creating shadow effects suggestive of butterflies with his hands, and Butterfly's son is a gracefully rendered puppet, manipulated by both men in the cast. There is also an eerie moment when the butterflies stored in jars on shelves in Nabokov's office mysteriously come to life.

But, as written and directed by Meyyappan, Butterfly is a strange combination of the sentimental and the brutal, a series of melodramatic twists in search of a meaningful narrative. The piece almost seems to glory in the violence done to Butterfly, the better to highlight her saintly nature; it's not pleasant to see the men grab her violently, seething with rage, and such moments clash too blatantly with the piece's otherwise rather precious tone. And when Butterfly reveals her own darker side, it isn't satisfying because it's not believable. A certain purposelessness hangs over the proceedings: The narrative is always clear, yet there's a good chance you will find yourself leaving the theatre scratching your head, wondering what the point of it was.

At least the narrative flows simply and easily, as set to David Paul Jones' beguiling musical score. The rest of the production is notably modest. Neil Warmington's set -- those shelves of animated butterflies aside -- is quite basic and his costumes consist of understated casual wear for each actor. Kate Bonney's lighting reshapes the space as needed. Gavin Glover's puppets -- particularly Butterfly's son -- are perfectly fine.

If you don't mind its rather pronounced mood swings, you might find that Butterfly possesses a certain evanescent charm. But this piece is as fragile as a butterfly's wing, and its spell is all too easily broken. -- David Barbour


(3 May 2016)

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