• 千と千尋の神隠し (Spirited Away) (stage version)

3/22/22 (Tues)

Spirited Away, the worldwide anime hit, has been retooled as a major stage show by British director John Caird of Les Mis fame. It’s always a thorny business bringing films to the stage since few producers have the creativity or guts to stray too far from familiar material, as way too many Broadway duds have proven in recent years. This one was particularly tricky since they’re dealing with an animated feature involving supernatural elements. Anime/manga has been a rich vein for producers here to mine, such as the hugely successful Kabuki version of the One Piece epic and a musical rendering of video game phenomenon Token Ranbu. It is now its own genre, known in local parlance as 2.5D shows. But Spirited Away is based not on a series but on a single highly popular film – it reigned for years as Japan’s biggest-selling movie by far of any genre (until eclipsed by another anime last year) – with iconic characters and scenes that its legions of fans will be eagerly awaiting. The trick for a long-running success is how to balance between lovers of the film and audiences less familiar with the material if at all.

That’s not necessarily a problem in Tokyo: the show is only being done here for four weeks (followed by a national tour) and boasts familiar stars. That ensures a full house for the brief run – tickets were quickly snatched up – and the high-for-Tokyo ticket price of ¥14,500 should guarantee a profit despite the elaborate staging (they were going for over 10 times that price on online resale sites). Given the familiarity of the movie and the family-friendly material, I’m at a loss why they didn’t book this for a longer run, especially with the money they’ve put into it. I have to assume they’re aiming for a future production in London or New York considering the creative staff – in addition to director/adaptor Caird, non-Japanese handled the music arrangement, orchestrations, art design and puppetry design (in the land of classic puppet theater). That would make this a trial run of sorts. The Japanese theater world works in strange and mysterious ways.

The production is extremely faithful to the film throughout, so there are no surprises story-wise. That is, the director is essentially recreating rather than creating. (The advertising had suggested that it would be a musical, which fortunately was not the case, though there was rich underscoring by the film’s composer.) Still, he does it very well for the most part. For instance, the opening scene features the family riding in the car in the countryside against a large video projection in close reproduction of the film. It’s carried off well enough, but was it even necessary? It means on stage that we initially only see the back of the parents’ heads, which doesn’t seem a wise choice for characters who serve as a key motive for the daughter’s subsequent journey. Couldn’t they have walked in as if they had just arrived by car, letting us get to know them? That and the following scene in the amusement park seemed rather rushed, though they were replicated nicely enough, if that was the point. That pretty much defined the show from that point on. No problem for the film’s fans, of course, but whether newcomers could follow is an open question.

The show took place on a single elaborate set that revolved for scene shifts, which kept the action and large cast (some 30 actors and puppeteers) flowing smoothly. There always seemed to be bodies looming in the background, which enhanced the ghostly atmosphere. While the action was peppered with occasional songs and dances, they were always presented within the confines of the story; as noted, this was decidedly a play with music, i.e., a reproduction of the original, not a musical.

The main human characters were near identical recreations of their animated counterparts, especially Sen/Chihiro, Haku and the evil Yubaba, who looked like they stepped directly off the screen. More problematic were the various creatures. The larger ones like Yubaba’s baby and the big blob were costumed humans, which generally worked fine (but did the octopus-like Kamaji really require a puppeteer for each of his artificial arms?). Others like the dragon and Yubaba’s bird were puppets on long sticks manipulated by actors, keeping the puppeteers at a comfortable distance from the main attraction. The smaller puppets, however, need a big rethink. The squeaky little Pac-Man creatures that gather at Sen’s feet at the bathhouse’s entry don’t translate well to the stage; it was hard to see them at all given their diminutive size and the distracting presence of the numerous puppeteers, who were strangely wearing light-colored clothing. The three Kashira (bodiless heads) were represented by a single hairy loin-clothed actor with a green mask on his face and one on each hand, which was beyond dumb. It looked cheap. The show needed a Julie Taymor or Avenue Q touch that would seamlessly blend the puppeteers and puppets or an entirely new approach that would offer new mysterious elements into the mix. No reason to be such a slave to the material.

The one big exception was Kaonashi (No-Face), whose flowing black costume made its body amorphous so that the mask seemed at times to be moving on its own. Dancer Sugawara Koharu managed to give the non-speaking role a personality and real pathos with a quirky style of movement resembling a live version of clay animation. I’m glad they gave her a chance to unmask at the curtain call; she deserved the applause. (The role is played by a male dancer at some performances.)

All the main actors are double cast and appear in various combinations. Among tonight’s group, Hashimoto Kanna, a TV star since childhood, was pitch perfect as Sen. Her sense of wonder felt genuine throughout, and her actions always remained believable in the context of a small girl; Hollywood could learn a thing or two. She was the core of the show. Sakihi Miyu was also excellent as Lin, while fan favorite Miura Hiroki did what he could with the more stereotypical role of Haku. Romi Park was a disappointment as Yubaba, not nearly outrageous enough in what should have been a scene-stealing role. I kept thinking of what Broadway veteran Jackie Hoffman would have done with this. (The part is shared with Natsuki Mari, who voiced the character in the film some two decades earlier and reportedly has a ball on stage.)

The big picture with the environmental theme is present, but the show at heart is still about Sen’s journey to rescue her parents and her feelings about Haku. It certainly worked on that level, especially with Hashimoto’s immensely likable performance. Still, if you’ve seen the film, you’ve basically seen the stage show. The material is highly appealing with its family-friendly story (though I saw zero children at this performance) and creative storyline, and the elaborate production has its moments. It feels like a work in progress. Caird might be looking at this as a preview period and already making adjustments in his mind for a run overseas, where audiences wouldn’t be as familiar with the story. I imagine we haven’t seen the last of Sen/Chihiro.