Just got back from seeing Monkey: Journey to the West, and it really was every bit as amazing as I’d expect from Chen Shi-Zheng, the creator of the very moving Peony Pavilion, which played here at Spoleto a few years back. That show had the challenge of the Memminger Auditorium space, wide and with a fairly low, open ceiling. For that piece Chen created a whole Chinese traditional theatre, complete with goldfish pond. For Monkey, he’s in the Sottile Theatre, a challenge in completely different ways. The space is smaller than the company is used to working in, and the hemp and sandbag fly system must have made flying those people around a true challenge.

But I get ahead of myself. Flying performers is only one of many amazing pieces to this show. I scribbled in a little notebook all the way through; notes that now appear like the drunk wanderings of a careless monk, since I couldn’t bear to take my eyes off the stage long enough to watch what I was doing.

The plot of the story is the base on which the performance stands; like traditional Chinese opera forms, the plot provides the reason for the acrobatics and singing, but is not itself the point of the piece. You can find the plot in your Spoleto program; suffice it to say that Monkey is born of an egg, establishes his power, is imprisoned by Buddha for 500 years, and then goes on a journey to protect Tripitaka as he returns sacred texts to India.

Stylistically, in its music, performance techniques, and acting, Monkey is a mishmash of east and west, blending remarkably well, and reflecting the dual hemispheric influences of Chen Shi-Zheng. Most striking to anyone who has seen any form of Chinese opera are the cartoons and animations that help tell the story and transition scenes. The image on the front screen in pre-show looks like a mix of Chinese and American cartoon styles. The humanoid characters have the wide grins and narrow eyes that can feel a bit cliched to sensitive westerners, but which pervade Chinese culture. Mixed in was a big purple eye that looked right out of Futurama and other vaguely familiarly styled alien and demon creatures. This is the style of James Hewlett, responsible for the “Visual Concept” of the show, and better known as the visual half of the band Gorillaz.

Animations and cartoons continue throughout the show, providing us with the story of Monkey’s emergence from his egg, underwater scenes (that frankly paled in comparison to the live depiction), and, more disturbingly, indicate the passage of Monkey’s 500-year imprisonment through a mostly non-cartoon montage of China’s history, including a disturbing mushroom cloud nestled in Buddha’s hands.

Monkey and his companions, including Pigsy, Tripitaka, the Dragon Prince (transformed into a horse), and the General Sandy, a character that gets far too little stage time and focus, travel through mystical lands, inhabited by demons, evil Princesses, and flying nymphs. At each scene, we are introduced to the nemeses via their acrobatics. Pole fighting, a popular element in Beijing opera (particularly in stories involving the Monkey King) is brilliantly executed here, although it gets lost amidst the other acrobatics at times. Other techniques are familiar to western audiences through groups like Cirque du Soleil. The fabric acrobatics, contortionism, balancing acts and fire twirling will look familiar to anyone who has seen that French Canadian troupe. Roller blades and unicycles were a fun surprise, but couldn’t be fully utilized on the small Sottile stage. The difference between here and more standard circus acts is that often the performers are singing at the same time.

Which brings me to the music. I’m no expert, but I’d describe much of the music as a mix of western minimalist (a la Philip Glass), Chinese traditional (played mostly on western instruments), with elements of modern Chinese pop (think saccharine and lyrical) and techno. Although it sometimes changes quite drastically from scene to scene, I didn’t find the mix jarring or incongruent at all. The singers were very heavily miked, so it was a relief that the singing style did not closely resemble Beijing opera, which would have been difficult to take at such a volume (as much as I love Beijing opera singing – no really, I’m not kidding, I really like it). Since I’m not familiar with David Albarn’s work with Gorillaz, I don’t know how much of a departure this is for him. Either way, I’ll be buying one of the cds soon.

The visuals, beyond what is provided by the constant movement and attention-grabbing activity of the performers, also provides a nice mix of east and west. Monkey is face-painted, very much like the Monkey King character in Beijing opera, while most others are merely heavily made up or wearing large head-covering masks. I found the full head masks of the other monkeys at the beginning and the men in heaven to be a little jarring and disturbing. At the distance I was sitting (just over half way back in the orchestra) they looked like Halloween masks or storm trooper helmets, and didn’t blend with the clever costumes of most characters (in whom I saw subtle echos of Julie Taylor and Cirque again). I hope to see it again from a closer seat so I can fully appreciate the costumes. Often obscured in the copious smoke and dim lighting, they appeared to be both whimsical and a bit grubby. Besides the full head-masks, other costumes that didn’t work for me were the horse costume (the tiny rear end hanging behind the performer just looked creepy) and the flesh eaters, whose fantastic body suits painted “naked” were undermined by the weird blonde wigs. Are we supposed to take this as a cultural statement?

The audience was a typical Spoleto audience. They applauded very little during the performance (I think the performers have been used to more audible appreciation for their work) but happily provided a standing ovation at the end. Some audience members seemed a bit bored by the two-hour, no intermission show, not least of which was the gum-snapping, helmet-haired woman beside me. She should thank her lucky stars for that empty seat between us. I was enthralled throughout, but not emotionally moved. That’s similar to my experience at the Beijing Opera in Beijing, and I think is not inappropriate or against the creators’ wishes. Monkey is a fantastic spectacle, a celebration of amazing talent, and an illustration of how well the most innovative and exciting performance traditions of east and west can come together to tell a beloved Chinese fable. Go. See it. Be amazed. Don’t get too entranced with one performer; remember to continually scan the stage for the multiple images presented. And bring a sense of wonder.