Long before James Brown, Elvis Presley, The Beatles or the Rolling Stones turned concerts in the West into seas of screaming fans, famous jingju (Beijing opera, 京劇) performers and Kabuki actors had an equally powerful, albeit quieter, impact on their audiences and loyal fan bases.
Those disparate worlds come together in Contemporary Legend Theatre’s (當代傳奇劇場) “108 Heros” trilogy based on the classic Chinese novel The Water Margin (水滸傳), the tale of Song Jiang (宋江) and his fellow outlaws during the Song Dynasty.
Being in the National Theater audience on Saturday night to see Part II, The Water Margin: The Hall of Righteousness (水滸108 II: 忠義堂) was like being at a rock concert, with screaming fans welcoming each member of the 18-strong cast as they paraded out on a runway built along the rim of the orchestra pit and then posed to announce their character.
Photo Courtesy of Contemporary Legend Theatre
The night was a marvellous blend of acting, song, split-second acrobatics, comedy, dancing, stunning costumes, video projections, lighting and stage design that started strong and just kept getting better.
I have come to expect such quality from the Contemporary Legend Theatre, but this show exceeded expectations.
Since the actual story is told through flashbacks, and most of the cast play two or more roles, the surtitles on screens on either side of the stage helped the audience keep track of who was who.
Photo Courtesy of Contemporary Legend Theatre
Artistic director Wu Hsing-kuo (吳興國) in the title role of Song Jiang, is the elder statesman of the cast. He has a commanding stage presence, but also was convincing in Song’s doubts about his leadership skills.
There were so many great scenes that it is hard to pick the best, but my favorites include Wu’s calligraphy scene, where his brushes turn into long strips of black ribbon that he swirls around the stage as lines from poems are projected onto the backdrop.
Lin Yi-yuan (林益緣) as the spikey-topped Shi Qian (時遷) jumping off the stage into the orchestra pit and bouncing back up onto the runway was fun, but his fire-eating skit about cooking and eating a sacred rooster was a masterpiece of timing and jests.
Other standouts were Huang Chia-chen (黃家成), who spent most of the show walking in a crouch as if he just had stumps for legs, Yang Rui-yu (楊瑞宇), Hsu Ting-fang (徐挺芳), Chu Po-cheng (朱柏澄) and then Huang Jolin (黃若琳) — the only woman in the cast — as the “lady outlaw” Sun Erniang (孫二娘).
Singer-composer Wakin Chau’s (周華健) songs kept the energy flowing, Austin Wang’s (王孟超) set designs honored the traditional minimalism of Beijing opera, but evoked temples and city walls with the sticks, platforms and chairs; Huang Tsu-yien’s (黃祖延) lighting created nighttime battle scenes as well as the spotlight concert staging; Lai Hsuen-wu’s (賴宣吾) costumes were sumptuous and Lin Hsiu-wei’s (林秀偉) choreography gave grace to the calligraphy scene and allowed young cast to show off their breakdancing skills.
Multi-media artist Ethan Wang’s (王奕盛) video projections ran the gamut from an opening fireball to inkwash mountain slopes, pages of illustrations from the book, and a giant white horse; they added to, but never diverted attention from, the action on stage.
There are two more chances to see the show, for now: June 2 and June 3 at the National Taichung Theater (臺中國家歌劇院大劇院). Even for non-Beijing opera fans, this is a show not to miss.
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