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The wait is over. After months of anticipation, "The Lion King" — winner of six Tony Awards, including Best Musical and Best Director of a Musical — has finally roared into Philadelphia. From the moment Disney tapped the genius avant-garde director Julie Taymor to design and direct the stage version, it was destined to be different. And it is — spectacularly so.
This is one of the most memorable theatrical extravaganzas this city has seen in years. Taymor seduces the audience into seeing what, in reality, isn’t there. That is true theater.
Birds fly, elephants lumber, gazelles leap. A jungle of costumed actors and life-size puppets great and small populate the stage in the opening number, "The Circle of Life." After that, almost every scene unfolds with its own special magic, utilizing superb stagecraft and a mystifying array of theatrical techniques.
Taymor’s bold signature is the show’s essential strength: a sophisticated and stylized vision. This is not just a "kid’s show." Taymor requires audiences to rise up, reminding us effective theater has less to do with special effects and more with teasing the mind into a state of wonder.
If you’re a parent, you’ve probably seen the movie version repeatedly. The on-stage difficulty was telling the story without the benefit of animation. The addition of African rhythms, vistas, puppets and masks simulating animal faces was an essential part of the show’s success.
Taymor wastes no time. From the first moment, the soaring voice of the baboon Rafiki welcomes us to their world. The animals then enter from all corners of the theater: giraffes, a cheetah, zebras, antelopes and many others. As each appears onstage, adults in the audience gape in wonder like toddlers on their first trip to Disneyland. It is pure sensory overload.
The glorious opening moment is only the honeymoon of this fable. Throughout the show’s two hours and 40 minutes (versus the 75-minute movie), there is breathtaking beauty and scenic ingenuity, ranging from shadow puppetry to Bunraku.
In the plot, Simba, heir to the throne of his heroic father, Mufasa, becomes the pawn of evil Scar. When Scar murders his brother Mufasa, he convinces the vulnerable cub he is responsible for the death. Simba goes into exile, where he comes to terms with his inner self.
There’s an irresistible pull to the music and, when the performers take to the aisles, the show has a celebratory, carnival feeling. It’s when "The Lion King" follows the traditional Broadway musical-style it goes slack.
Taymor has expanded the story a bit, adding several engaging new songs, including three by Elton John and Tim Rice, the original composer and lyricist, respectively, and several African tribal numbers that were adapted from music written for the film by Hans Zimmer and Mark Mancina.
Taymor — who also designed the costumes, co-designed the masks and puppets and wrote some of the lyrics — packs a great deal of emotion into the production. These are not just puppets; they are characters in a grand story almost too big to tell on stage.
The masks and puppets are a masterwork, from antagonist Scar’s moveable mask to Timon, a puppet built into a costume (which is so lifelike, you forget there’s someone behind it). Then there’s Pumbaa, a huge warthog built around a man, and the comically evil Hyenas. Mufasa and Simba wear their masks on top of their heads, giving them a regal appearance.
Sometimes, a fish needs a bicycle. That’s the message of Taymor’s use of wheels and props to put animals on stage. Her hands-on approach is revealed in the masks she made herself, and she employs an eclectic mix of costumes, fusing Far East traditions of animal representation with original African chants, rooting the glitz and glamour in an earthy sense of the savannah’s mystique.
But it is the cosmic picture Taymor is after: the cycles of life and death, of rebirth and metamorphosis. Many of the strongest scenes are edged in mortal darkness, including a lovely vignette when the lionesses stalk their prey.
The vaudeville-ish movie comedy is apparent in Simba’s pals, Timon and Pumbaa. Like the officious hornbill Zazu, cast members manage to make both their puppet and their body into one character.
The simple African design elements aren’t overly technical, but they are visually powerful, using actors as the grasslands and pieces of fabric to create the sun, desert and sky. Most of the effects come from the actors themselves, such as when cast members become the charging wildebeests streaming down a cliff.
The individual performances vary. The young Simba and Nala are only adequate and Derek Smith is in his best form as Scar.
With many shows, getting an overall view from the mezzanine is just as good as sitting in the orchestra. Not here. There is a huge difference between being above and being surrounded by it. The latter is what "The Lion King" is all about. In the horseshoe-shaped Academy of Music, one needs to be on the orchestra floor or at least in the middle — otherwise, you face the other side of the audience, not the stage.
"The Lion King" employs more than 232 puppets, 27 kite birds, 143 people, 53 actors and nearly a hundred others to create its magic. Even those who don’t appreciate the movie will find the musical a visual feast. The amazing spectacle and experience is what really gives "The Lion King" its bite.
The Lion King
Through Sept. 10
The Academy of Music
Broad and Locust streets
Tickets: $25.50 -$87.50
215-731-3333
www.kimmelcenter.org/broadway
