Playwright: adapted by Mary Zimmerman from the stories of Rudyard Kipling . At: Goodman Theatre, 170 N. Dearborn St. Tickets: 312-443-3800; www.goodmantheatre.org; $30-$125. Runs through: Aug. 11
It's rare for the bigwigs paying the bills to hand over a blank check, even to an artist renowned for working the kind of magic that leads to international contracts, acclaimoh, and profitsfor the project of adapting the classic children's story of the boy raised by wild beasts, so let's cut to the chase: how does what Mary Zimmerman has done with The Jungle Book differ from what Julie Taymor did in 1997 with that other non-Eurocentric coming-of-age fable, The Lion King?
Firstly, Zimmerman's Jungle Book is compact, running at just over two hours, with Daniel Ostling's wing-and-drop scenery fitting snugly into the post-1990s playhouses where it will likely tour after its premiere at the Goodman. Secondly, Jungle Book is light on its feetMara Blumenfeld shuns 40-pound masks and cake-frosting makeup to instead dress her actors in tissue-weight muslins embellished with delicately-wired wings, tails and ruffs. Thirdly, Jungle Book swings, not only between the stylistic motifs of two continents, but in its music, literally, thanks to Doug Peck's orchestra featuring hotcha-hotcha brass and woodwinds jamming with traditional Indian sitars, ouds, dholaks, dumbeks and dafs.
This last factor is invaluable in reducing the inevitable cutes lingering in the score for the 1967 Disney animated film. A sweeter-than-sweet ditty like "The Bare Necessities" suddenly takes on a fresh aural landscape with the addition of electric veena and tablas drums. Elephants marching in Gilbert & Sullivan formation, a tiger purring a downbeat ballad, and a bear belting 12-bar blues also provide surprises, as does "I Wanna Be Like You," rendered as a jubilant medley of Preservation Hall jazz harmonies, Cab Calloway-scatting and solo instrumentalists traversing the stage as nimbly as the quadrupedal tap-dancers.
With all these hijinks, we hardly need to trouble ourselves with serious themes, but Zimmerman refuses to abandon the lonely Victorian schoolboy doomed to grow up into the misunderstood Rudyard Kipling. Drawing on the Hindu myth of reincarnation, she has the dying tigeryes, creatures die in this junglethank his slayer for delivering him from his predatory nature, before setting forth to a more enlightened future. Our young hero may protest his departure from aboriginal innocence to responsible adulthood, but as we resign ourselves to the sobering reminder that no Eden lasts forever, Zimmerman offers consolation in an exuberant Bollywood finale to send us home assured of more adventures yet to come.