When people hear that Marcel Marceau is in town to perform, they tend to react in one of two ways: with either a surprised "He's still alive?" or a puzzled "Who's he?"
The first response isn't unexpected. Marceau is a legend within circles that follow his art form. He's been the world's most famous mime since he created his first clown character, Bip, way back in 1947. That makes Marceau one well-regarded, well-aged clown.
As for the second, confused response: miming isn't exactly a burgeoning art form. The miming era, if you can call it that, peaked when our grandparents were blushing young things. Marcel Marceau, at 81 years of age, is no spring chicken.
But hold the nostalgia; Marcel is back in town and will be appearing at the American Repertory Theatre in Cambridge through Oct. 9.
The current show is divided into two halves. The first part features Marcel Marceau performing a variety of short solo pieces. The second is a set of three longer "Fantastic Tales," featuring Marceau and a troupe of seven other performers.
The variety of pieces in the first half allows Marceau to demonstrate his skills across a spectrum of different styles and effects. Some pieces are fairly abstract, such as one about the creation of the world, and another involving a conflict between his two hands. Others create entire landscapes on stage. For example, "The Public Garden," one of Marceau's most famous pieces, conjures up a fantastical park in Paris, complete with characters interacting with the quaint, wistful scene.
Bip also makes several appearances, trying his hand at lion taming and the fine profession of street performance.
The show makes it apparent why miming is such a unique art form. When watching other kinds of performances, one can afford to be less than completely attentive all the time, without losing too much in the performance. Miming is not so forgiving.
The abstract nature of the mime requires a constant effort on the audience's part to add to and flesh out the scene with their imagination. It is not without its risks this way - if one does happen to lose or fail to pick up the thread of a scene, the routine then becomes alienating and utterly frustrating.
This happened at times even during the masterful Marceau's performance, particularly earlier in the show. There were also times when a story's ending was vague and seemed incomplete.
The flipside of this is that miming can be extremely engrossing and dramatic since the audience is hanging on every last movement of the mime. This kind of participation can yield fantastic results, as in the case with the darkly Cinderella-esque "Masquerade Ball," the second of the three longer pieces.
"Masquerade Ball" features exuberant and frivolous revellers, a Puck-like character who leads them to a party in a remote location, an unhappy disfigured woman, and a mysterious character who offers her a beautiful mask to wear to the party. The lack of details and reliance on impressions work wonderfully to enhance the uncertain, dreamlike quality of the story. The story refuses to settle for simple fairy tale expectations. Rather, it's filled with tensions and fears, with the audience eagerly awaiting its uncertain resolution.
Another highlight of the evening was the technically impressive "The Mask Maker," performed by Marceau alone. While the themes of faces, masks, and identity ran through much of the night, in "The Mask Maker" Marceau used no props in the piece, dexterously transforming his own face into numerous different masks. Marceau's ability to change a tired, unhappy character as he puts on a variety of masks is astounding. When he gets trapped in mask that's wildly comedic, it's simultaneously funny and unsettling to watch him struggle and panic, while grinning grotesquely the entire time.
Make no mistake, Marceau is no has-been. He's 81 and still hot and limber. Ultimately, miming is not for everyone. It's delicate, unique and requires work from its audience. But if you are ever to go see a mime perform, make it Marceau.
