I can’ t tell you any specific prerequisites the producers of “Life of Pi” might’ve listed for the play’s casting call — my own opportunities are likely limited to non-speaking roles in the vein of “Man in Bar Number 3.” But Taha Mandviwala’s experiences in parkour certainly didn’t hurt his chances to land the title role, one of the most physically taxing on-stage performances these eyes have ever seen. The physical discipline, which has practitioners performing Jackie Chan-like stunts (you might remember it as one of YouTube’s first viral moments), is all about geometry and efficiency of movement. The physical feats are both gravity defying and done with such flow and swagger that they take on the form of art.
I would argue the recent and upcoming performances of “Life of Pi” at Bass Performance Hall are very much in the same vein — physically unbelievable and incredibly beautiful.
After all, “Life of Pi” is based on a novel that, despite its immense popularity, was once deemed unadaptable and unfilmable by Hollywood know-it-alls. Its story, the majority of which features only two characters — a teenage boy (Pi) and a Bengal tiger (Richard Parker) — lost at sea on a lifeboat, presented too many problems for a film crew to tackle. What might have read well and captured imaginations on a page was unlikely to transfer to the silver screen. Though director Ang Lee would eventually prove such naysayers wrong with his Oscar-winning adaptation, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have similar concerns about telling the story on a stage. “How were they going to pull this off?” I wondered.
Well, they don’t just pull it off, they hit it out of the park. The performance is an awe-inspiring feat, and it’s achieved in a way that is truly unexpected.
As the actors demonstrated Wednesday afternoon to a group of Fort Worth theater students, the tiger, Richard Parker (if you’re not acquainted with the story, don’t worry; you’ll find out how the tiger received such a name), is performed by three separate puppeteers, all of whom one can see as they guide Parker’s movements and emotions. And what I feared would be a distraction come showtime turned out to be a solution to the play’s biggest obstacle: How do you make the audience legitimately fear for Pi’s life? And how do you portray him ultimately connecting with Parker without making it feel hokey. A human in a tiger costume wouldn’t do the trick. So, when it comes to tiger performances, three is indeed company.
Of course, at the center of the play is Pi, a young man in search of answers to life’s biggest questions who’s played brilliantly and earnestly by Taha Mandviwala. Following Wednesday’s demonstration and Q&A for local students, we caught up with Mandviwala for a one-on-one Q&A. And, not surprisingly, he’s one hell of a great conversationalist.
Taha Mandviwala: I’m really digging your whole style (pointing to my Western belt and pearl snaps).
Fort Worth Magazine: Thanks! Yeah, it’s Texas, so this is kind of the uniform I suppose. Have you visited the area before?
TM: I have a lot of family friends that live here in Dallas area, so less Fort Worth, but more north and Plano area and stuff.
FW: Ah, gotcha. Well, we won’t hold that against you. So, how many performances is this for you now in this role?
TM: I’ve lost count by now, but the full company’s done around 270. I think we end the run on Oct. 26, and I think we cap at 297. It’s kind of a bummer. Like, you can’t hit the even 300? Where can we squeeze those in? (Laughs) And I’ve done just over 200 as Pi.
FW: Incredible. I mean, I’ve read the book, and I’ve seen the movie. It’s such an emotional story, and I assume you have to get in that mindset night in, night out. That’s got to be kind of taxing.
TM: I think this is the distinction that I’ve made between the earlier part of my acting career, when I was still getting my chops and figuring stuff out, versus now: When I was younger, I played Romeo, who goes through a very intense gamut on stage, and there’s a lot of big emotions happening. Then, it was very torturous in a way. I didn’t really know how one gets to [that emotional state]. And I think a lot of actors are still figuring it out. There are so many different ways people do it. But now, honestly, it’s more somatic than anything else. It’s really learning more about your breath and the nature of the story — where you are, your given circumstances, the literal technique within your body. Doing this 200 times, you learn sustainability. You learn how to tell a difficult story that goes to some very deep, intense places. You learn how to relax and respond truthfully. And you learn to approach things from a different lens in order to maintain a sense of curiosity around the story and to keep it fresh, to keep it compelling.
FW: So, for almost the entire second act of this play, you’re acting alongside three puppeteers and a puppet. How is that different from sharing the stage with another “human?” And what are some of the challenges?
TM: There are similarities and differences. The similarity is that the relationship between actor to actor is the same. Richard Parker is also an actor on a technical level operated by three people. And it has its own means of communication, its own wants, its own needs, its own struggles, its own obstacles. The only difference is we are trying to portray a relationship with a wild animal and a non-Disneyfied version of that relationship. So, you want to give it that sense of weight, danger, unpredictability, the literal physics of the animal. So, I find it’s just a joy. You’re playing the zenith of make-believe. Kind of like a kid, you’re like, “Oh my God, I really want to respond to this as if it is a killer animal. And what does that do to your body and how do you allow that to really give that sense of realism. Mind I got on a quick tangent?
FW: Please do.
TM: We have this thing that we talk about in puppetry called the fourth puppeteer, meaning if it takes three people to operate the puppet — Richard Parker, for example — the fourth puppeteer is the human element that is outside of the puppet, listening, responding and imbuing with a sense of reality to recognize this thing as a living, breathing creature. That could be my job or any of the other principal’s jobs as humans interacting with the puppets or the animals. It’s also the audience. The audience is also the fourth puppeteer, which I think is a beautiful vehicle to tell this story. Because this is a story, at its core, about belief.
FW: So, what was your introduction to “Life of Pi”?
TM: I read the book back in high school many moons ago and probably at a time when I didn’t fully have the spiritual maturity to really understand it. But I loved the story, and I saw the movie ages and ages ago. And then I was introduced to the play the day before I auditioned for the Broadway company; I had wanted to see the show to get an idea for it. And it completely changed my life — both in experiencing the show and joining the company the next day. It had a resounding impact, and it will continue to impact me for the rest of my life. The show will have changed me forever.
FW: I assume many Fort Worthians have read the book, and many of them have probably seen the movie. But why should they come and see the play?
TM: I think there’s a beautiful thing about this particular production in that we call it a theatrical event. Meaning this story has all of the elements of a big budget musical. We have our Tony Award-winning lighting, set design, and sound design. So, if you are coming to see something that you have never seen or experienced before, you’re in for a treat. There’s truly nothing like the show in the touring circuit right now. If you’re someone who wants to have your senses completely titillated and see something that really sparks your sense of wonder and awe and imagination in terms of what humans can do when they come together to tell a story, you’ll love it.
“Life of Pi” is currently performing at Bass Performance Hall, and you can still snag tickets for this weekend here.