[img]696|left|Daisuke Tsuji in “Death and Giggles” at The Actors' Gang||no_popup[/img]There’s a dose of Cirque du Soleil in Daisuke Tsuji’s Sole Mate and Death and Giggles, which is no surprise given his tour as a clown with the Japanese edition of Dralion. The great physicality in his performance — drawing on all the usual clowning disciplines of mime and physical comedy, and more — matched by the ability to evoke an almost child-like sense of wonder certainly distills an essence of the Cirque. The comparison is apt; Death and Giggles is very much a non-narrative piece of performance art more loosely sketched and surreal than coherent and realistic. While overly obtuse in presenting impressions of a man confronting the memories of life in the afterlife — a critique also common to Cirque du Soleil productions — Mr. Tsuji nevertheless engages with the relentlessly charming and intriguing character of Giggles. From surprisingly direct audience participation stunts to balloons that express emotions and sock puppets, the production is laced with comic absurdity and delight. Mr. Tsuji is not afraid of experimenting with props and comic timing, stretching silences into the carefully structured set-up for a startling, funny payload.
One might suspect that the whole thing aims for the existential — minimal “dialogue,” much ambiguity — only to deliver the pretense of an allegory. The significance of a mock food fight is elusive, especially considering later scenes alluding to grief through the medium of a fabric wall with sinister hidden faces. So, too, are other scenes more like vignettes, infused with the possibility of meaning in terms of the whole but a little too open to interpretation. And while consisting mostly of giggles, death has enough of presence to be a peculiar downer or at least to throw off any semblance of tonal consistency. It’s an artsy tease reminiscent of that crack about an open mind; open is good, but not so open that brains leak out.
If one is to have an experience for the sake of having an experience, however, Death and Giggles is a masterful piece of performance theatre. Always riveting, often hilarious, backed by a quirky yet surprisingly intense score by Jonathan Snipes and chock-full of clever visual gags; it is certainly never boring even when confounding. It may be questionable exactly what it is that hits, but there’s no doubt that the hit is very palpable indeed.
Prefacing Death and Giggles is a less enigmatic piece titled Sole Mate, the sweet ballad of a lone shoe looking for loving companionship. The clever arrangement begins with Cristina Bercovitz standing on a chair and singing into a microphone while manipulating the puppet that is her shoe. Meanwhile, as the shoe sings of its woeful search for a mate, legs and hands provided by Jessica Erskine appear and disappear from behind a screen to punctuate the shoe’s song. It’s wonderfully whimsical and endearing. Paired with Death and Giggles, it makes for an enchanting evening of theatrical merriment.
The Actors’ Gang, in association with Three Chairs Theatre, presents Sole Mate/Death and Giggles. Starring Daisuke Tsuji, Cristina Bercovitz, Jessica Erskine and Eleanor van Hest. On stage at the Ivy Substation until Saturday, Oct. 24. Visit www.theactorsgang.com for more information.
