The White Snake

Old story: Man and woman, Boy and Girl or even Man and Serpent fall in love and are on the brink of happily-ever-after when some holier-than-thou SOB decides their mating is against God’s law and stops at nothing to break it up. (Or pass a law against it…but who’d believe that could happen in this country?)

That, in a viper’s nest, is the plot of “The White Snake,” a most enthralling, exquisite and thoroughly entertaining re-telling of the classic Chinese fable by adaptor and director Mary Zimmerman. It would be worth seeing for the eye candy visuals alone.

In this stylized comic version–remember, this is not hissssstory–White Snake, a shape-shifting spirit inhabited on a soul level by Amy Kim Waschke, and her sidekick Green Snake (Tanya McBride) assume human form to check out the world of man. Shortly, our slithering star meets and marries Xu Xian (pronounced Shu Shan), whom she sets up in business as a pharmacist.

Decrying this intermarriage, Fa Hai (Jack Willis), a rotund Buddhist monk and the villain in this piece sets off to split them up. The result of his efforts is, at various turns, tense, terrifically funny and, ultimately, tragic.

More than anything, the production is a sensorial feast, featuring well-coordinated design elements of museum quality. The ephemeral light “paintings” on the stage floor, and the painterly images projected on the broad upstage screen, play off against billowing silk sheets (to represent clouds or the seas) and a stunning array of costumes, creating an ever-changing and breath-taking tableau.

There is charm to be found too in the representation of the snakes. In one scene, they are puppets ingeniously animated by sticks operated by the actors; in another, the snake body is a line of performers twirling umbrellas.

From, most appropriately, a petite pit before the stage, a flutist, cellist and percussionist provide delightful accents and effects with a descriptive “Peter and the Wolf” quality, while accompanying the few vocal numbers.

The cast serves this story well, with humble sincerity and a grand attention to detail. Green Snake was surely my favorite; McBride, with sharp comic timing and wickedly fast changes of thought, is a captivating comedienne. And Willis as the bad guy is, at once, ferocious and funny.

Zimmerman’s scintillating and sometimes sibilant script can, at times, be scrumptiously silly, as when, in a sort of red neck Texas drawl, the scowling Fa Hai spouts, “This is Buddha Country.”

As sophisticated and artful as the production is, what is perhaps most endearing and deeply affecting is the play’s unwillingness to take itself too seriously. Zimmerman is an unrepentant provocateur of laughs of all shapes and sizes, relying on clever wordplay and visual jokes. Whatever’s around; whatever works.

For instance, in a few delightful sequences, Xu Xian’s plaguing doubts are played out by an actress who gooses him with her long fluttering finger extensions.

“White Snake” plays at the Angus Bowmer Theatre through July 8. This play is a treasure. See it soon so you can see it again.

This play is a treasure. See it soon so you can see it again.