When I was a little girl, I waited for Peter Pan. “The Neverland” made its way out of my mind into dark nights, especially when stars were visible. Like thousands before me, I scanned the skies, started at untraceable sounds, left too many windows open, and hoped. The lanky, Americanized character Mary Martin gave us in 1954, was far from a child. An animated Disney homogenization went even further afield. Maude Adams who played in Peter Pan; or the Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up (1905 on Broadway) may have captured Peter’s essence in J.M. Barrie’s original words. I wasn’t there.

I was at The New Victory Theater Friday night where a personification of the magical, selfish, silly boy “who still had all his first teeth”* captivated a first night audience. There are no green tights. He flies without a harness. Though the show is filled with the evocative Scottish music and song of Barrie’s childhood, neither Peter nor Wendy sing. You won’t recognize Captain Hook, who has been interpreted from Barrie’s description of character, not previous formats, or Nana, who is not a Sheepdog. There’s no fairy dust. Still, this may be the purest and most persuasive dramatization you will see. It’s surely the most original.

Apparently the book was less exuberant than the play; more a wistful examination of the joys and then irretrievable loss of childhood. Without reading the source, I can’t distinguish what’s attributable to the novel from what’s original to the adaptation. There are previously unheard reflections and tones. Peter’s crow becomes “Me! Me! Me, Me, Me, ME!” “In his darkest hours,” the narrator tells us, “Hook refers to himself in the third person.” The Lost Boys request of Wendy to become their mother, elicits “I’m only a little girl. I have no experience.” Later, a confused Peter muses, “Tiger Lily wants to be something to me, but not my mother.”

The two worlds overlap in a likely fashion. Some colloquial references and Hook’s preoccupation with “class” seem questionable, as does a song of belief that resurrects Tinker Bell. Though as effectively moving as clapping, the lyrics will go over the heads of little ones. It should be noted that Peter and Wendy was not skewed towards the preschool set, though they would delight in much of it. In fact, I’m told, youngsters have already made their involvement apparent. On one occasion, when Peter tells Wendy a girl is worth a great many boys, a single objecting “No!” rang out from the audience.

Peter himself is performed by what most people think of as a puppet. Expertly articulated, his feelings and expressions are astonishingly apparent. Traditional Bunraku (rod puppetry) teams of 3, clothed in pale 19th Century apparel with faces hidden by veils, helm the characters. Like equine relatives in War Horse, there’s a point when Peter simply becomes a small thespian. Wendy, on the other hand, is acted by flesh and blood Karen Kandel, who not only narrates the piece, additionally slipping into several other parts, but provides every single, distinctive voice. The visual scale takes getting used to, but the relationships are never less than completely believable.

Except for some lovely, simple projections, this a gloriously low tech production. Nana seems to be a pile of brown rags until she comes to life. The first time the children fly, we see nightshirts take off, later they appear as silhouettes against the moon. Lost boys are jointed wooden mannequins. The Darling’s Kensington home is a giant paper pop-up. The Pirate Ship…and crocodile…?! Just wait and see! I haven’t described the half of it. None of the unconventional choices obscure the heart or muddle the story.

Several years after the play’s premiere in London, Barrie added an additional scene he called “An Afterthought.” Included in the novel, this is where we learn Peter returns irregularly to fetch Wendy for Spring Cleaning. When he finds a grown-up, they both suffer. (His longing is ameliorated by substituting Wendy’s daughter, Jane and then her daughter and hers. Wendy must live with hers.) At the end of Friday’s show, we could distinctly hear a child crying in the theater-not a sound effect, an audience member. I choose to believe he or she was not tired but rather experiencing in his or her own fashion, the sadness of the moment.

Karen Kandel is elegant. Every word is enunciated…in character. She morphs from Wendy to Mr. Darling to Tiger Lily to Captain Hook with frankly mind boggling focus and fluency. Her stage movement, containing elements of dance and mime, is never less than superb craft. Brava!

The incomparable puppeteer Basil Twist once again hides his face while showing us the genius of bringing life to what seems inanimate. His finesse and extraordinary sense of detail manifest themselves in character depiction and emotional resonance alike. Perhaps the highest compliment I can pay Twist is that he disappears.

Director Lee Breuer is a conjuror. He’s gifted us with the unexpected, a feat in light of the iconic nature of the material. The stage is innovatively and aesthetically occupied. Puppeteers are never mere manipulators. Art serves the story. The story flows. Karen Kandel’s personas are a marvel.

Adapter/Producer/Lyricist Liza Lorwin communicates the soul of the piece in both narration and dialogue. Her perspective is philosophical and somewhat dark, but balanced. In other words, she articulates the recognizable truth of growing up.

At intermission, I spoke with uber-inventive Designer (Set/Lights/Puppets,) Julie Archer. Her impetus, she explained, was the realization of Barrie’s emotional descriptions, rather than physical prototypes. (I admit I had trouble making the leap to such a different looking Hook.) Archer’s vision is exceptional in the sheer variety of methods and mediums utilized without losing coherence. Her ability to evoke wonder would be enviable in any artistic endeavor.

Sally Thomas’ Costumes are attractive and period appropriate, while managing to fade back in favor of the puppets. Johnny Cunningham (Composer/Arranger/Lyrics) offers an ethnic folk sound like something out of ancient legend. Mermaids, Indians, Pirates and Fairies easily breathe his music. Mrs. Darling hears it in her sleep. Siobhan Miller has an ethereal voice. The musicians are top notch.

Mabou Mines’ Peter and Wendy was created by Liza Lorwin, Julie Archer, Johnny Cunningham and Lee Breuer in 1996. It has played regional theaters throughout the U.S. and at international theater festivals in Dublin and Edinburgh. The piece returns for a third run at The New Victory Theater featuring eight original cast members, including Karen Kandel and Basil Twist. Like Peter coming to fetch Wendy, only to discover her daughter, a new generation (of children and adults) will be enchanted.

*From J.M. Barrie’s novelization Peter and Wendy 1911 of his play Peter Pan; or The Boy Who wouldn’t Grow Up 1904

Photos by Richard Termine
Captions:
1. L-R: Basil Twist, Sam Hack and Sarah Provost as Peter, and Karen Kandel as The Narrator
2. L-R: Basil Twist, Sam Hack and Sarah Provost as Peter, and Karen Kandel as The Narrator
3. L-R: Karen Kandel as The Narrator, and Basil Twist, Sam Hack and Sarah Provost as Peter

Peter and Wendy from the novel by J.M. Barrie
Mabou Mines
Featuring Karen Kandel
Puppeteers Lute Breuer & Basil twist
Directed by Lee Breuer
The New Victory Theater
209 West 42nd Street
Through May 22, 2011
www.newvictory.org or 646-223-3010