With deafening crashes of thunder, violent slices of lightning and the terrifying, God-fearing cries of human panic, an unholy tempest casts audience and protagonist alike far from safety and sanity in the opening moments of the Lifeline Theatre's viscerally appealing yet intellectually confounding dramatization of H.G. Well's The Island of Dr. Moreau.
Lifeline ensemble member Robert Kauzlaric's adaptation of the late-19th century science-fiction masterpiece confronts the moral ambiguities of modernity with extreme allegory. The play chronicles the months that young Edward Prendick (Phil Timberlake) spends in accidental exile on the island laboratory of Dr. Moreau (Nigel Patterson), witnessing experimental vivisections intended to transform animals into human beings. While Prendick rejects Moreau's reprehensible practice of uninhibited science, he nevertheless must deal with the effects of living with the biologically and existentially confused pseudo-human population.
The production deserves high marks for audio-visual construction. The special effects are particularly jarring and effective: In the shipwreck following the opening storm, for example, a series of heartbeats tick with the immediacy and volume of a fastball smacking into a catcher's mitt, which, synchronized with a strobing white light, conveys the suspenseful passage of time and impending mortality with evocative precision and talent. Throughout the play, intense juxtapositions of noise and silence demonstrate the chaotic, disordered underbelly of our ostensibly calm modernity.
The set too aptly hosts this integral contradiction. While always literal, the stage's foresty motif works with only nominal incompatibility in four distinct environments: a multi-mast cargo boat, Moreau's abominable surgical hut (referred to as the "house of pain" by the post-op half-humans), Prendick's bedroom and the island hinterland. That this versatility could easily go unnoticed is its greatest achievement, as dramatic changes of location ultimately do not distract from the story.
Additionally, the costuming of the beastmen is stunning. The full-body furry suits and masks (designed by Kimberly Morris) allow for full mobility and are impressionistic enough to permit the audience's imagination room to elaborate.
Many of the actors' performances also merit strong regard. Patterson's Moreau is an archetype of insidious confidence, a quality captured by his quiet, methodical speech and creepy, suspicious gestures. Such a demeanor contrasts so well with the character's eventual spastic breakdown that it creatively illuminates the delicate clay feet of civilization. M'ling, the doctor's trusted and trusting man-beast assistant, is played by Sean Sullivan with sympathetic, sluggish movement and a terrific sense of genuine, dim-witted frustration. All of those who don creature suits in this staging are, in fact, satisfyingly animalistic and seem to be having a lot of fun being so.
Unfortunately, there are disappointing shortcomings in the script that significantly handicap the production. The basic metaphysical kernel of the story is the manufactured Otherness, a dilemma that provides ample avenues for exploration. It can be taken as a metaphor for imperialism, a crisis of science versus God, a critique of modern society, a discourse on what it means to be human or an examination of manipulation and control. While any one of these themes could have been the focus of Lifeline's dramatization, no decision has really been made about which to work with. Consequently, none of the themes are explored in detail, and nothing is resolved.
An ancillary result of this overextension is that the characters can't be developed in their own right; their dialogue and exchanges are conspicuous debates without terrific passion or investment. To the detriment of the actors, who generally make the most of their parts, these are cardboardy shadows of familiar arguments. Lifeline's The Island of Dr. Moreau is a success on many fronts and worth seeing, but it is also a prime example of the fact that no amount of brilliant theatricality can add depth to a shallow script.
3 STARS
The Island of Doctor Moreau is playing at the Lifeline Theatre, located at 6912 N. Glenwood Ave., through Dec. 2. Performances are Fridays at 7:30 p.m. and Saturdays at 8 p.m., with additional performances on Saturdays and Sundays at 4 p.m. For more information call 773-761-4477 or visit www.lifelinetheatre.com.
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