Washingtonians are lucky right now to be graced with the kind of show usually found in downtown New York City. “A Wrinkle in Time,” in a world premiere at Arena Stage, takes bold risks—musically, with the imaginative storytelling, and visually with arresting staging. Leaning into the bizarreness of the story, it gets at a beautiful emotional truth, but at the expense of narrative clarity.
Madeleine L’Engle’s classic young adult science fiction novel, published in 1962, is beloved by generations. You may have read it but might not recall how wild the actual plot is: heroine Meg Murry and her super-smart brother must rescue their physicist father, Alex, who has traveled to another planet through a “tesseract,” a fold in the fabric of space and time. With their friend Calvin, they follow a trio of mysterious women, Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Who, and Mrs. Which, on a journey through the universe to find Alex and bring him home.
With the decades-long popularity of this intellectual property, it would seem a typical candidate for a commercial stage adaptation. Imagine a straightforward retelling of the story with a serviceable (but unremarkable) pop score and big special effects for the sci-fi elements. But Charlotte Jones Voiklis, L’Engle’s granddaughter and the literary executor of her estate, has gone the other direction, particularly in her selection of composer Heather Christian, a darling of the downtown scene who’s not known for commercial works. Rounding out the core creative team is book writer Lauren Yee, director Lee Sunday Evans, and choreographer Ani Taj.
Together, this all-women (!) team has fashioned an arty adaptation. The characters and basic plot are the same as the book, but these take a back seat to long musical scenes that focus more on theme and atmosphere. Like when the traveling trio arrive in Camazotz, a planet surrounded by dark forces in the universe. The natives, dressed in psychedelic track suits, must “keep the rhythm going,” represented cleverly as bouncing balls in time with the music; they literally cannot drop the ball, or else they are punished as an “aberration.” “The world is not depressing you; you are depressing yourself,” they sing. They have traded real feelings for a conformist, always-sunny life.
The scene captures the best and worst of the production. Set to pulsating music, it paints a clear picture of the dark forces shaping life on this planet without resorting to exposition. Taj’s movement is mesmerizing to watch, as the ensemble mechanically files papers and pulls out bits of scotch tape, a sort-of mindless administrative office ballet. It’s all beautifully strange. But it just goes on too long. We lose many of the lyrics along the way, in part because Christian deploys only a bit of rhyme and characters sing overlapping words and sounds.
Even though the lyrics need a lot of work to be more legible to the audience, the music is a major strength of the show, creating a gorgeous sonic landscape. Christian’s utterly original score is classical, ethereal, and soaring. It makes full use of the human voice as an instrument, frequently deploying the ensemble into choral accompaniment for the main singer, like “oop, oop, oop” and other repeated sounds and refrains. The orchestrations (by a collective called StarFish, assembled specifically to orchestrate this show) are beautiful, especially the flute and reeds. At one dark moment in the show, the pianist reaches below his upright piano to run his hand over the strings, creating a screeching, scary sound. This is mysterious, challenging music. I loved it.
The sonic experience is further enhanced by Nick Kourtides’s sound design, which, along with Jeanette Oi-Suk Yew’s lighting design, do most of the work of helping us imagine the science fiction elements of the show, like tessering. Large sliding panels upstage open and close over the top of a big light box, with color gradients that change to show the different planets and moods in the piece (set design is by the design collective called dots). Sarafina Bush must have had a blast designing the costumes for the show—they are delightfully wacky and a feast for the eyes. When characters tesser from one planet to another, the ensemble comes out in Michelin-man-like, billowing, dark outfits, shining flashlights at the main characters as they spirit them away. These are just one of the surprising and intriguing stage images director Evans creates throughout.
The characters here are mostly sketches, just defined enough to advance the story. Mrs. Who (Stacey Sargeant) speaks largely in quotations—a delightful touch that gets consistent laughs. Mrs. Whatsit is positioned as the leader of the three, and it is she who opens and closes the show. The top-notch actress Amber Gray (“Hadestown”) plays the kookiness of the role well, but isn’t given enough material to chew on, and so her talents are underutilized.
Meg (Taylor Iman Jones) is given some color at the top of the show—she doesn’t fit in, she has a lot of anger, and she misses her father terribly—but even though she’s at the center of the action, the show mostly happens around her as other characters arrive and the plot unfolds. It’s not until Act 2 that Jones shines in the role. She’s terrific once her character is given a chance to grow. It’s her journey—from generalized anger to channeling her emotions for good—that gets us to the core insight: emotions are valid and powerful for enacting change in the world, even when it seems impossible.
With its unconventional music, confusing storyline, and general weirdness, this show will not appeal to all. One of many reasons I find it so exciting to see a world premiere like this is imagining ways to improve the show. The creative team needs to tighten up the musical sequences and provide more dialogue scenes to enhance narrative clarity and deepen character. And the lyrics and sound design should be improved to ensure we catch all the words.
At the most beautiful moment in the show, large ET-like creatures lean over a wounded Meg in a beautiful moment of care and concern. On a stage bathed in dim purple light, they assure her that she can heal: “Brimming with potential, you have everything you need.” So, too, does “A Wrinkle in Time.” I hope I get to see a further-developed iteration of this intriguing show.
Playing at Arena Stage through July 20th. 2 hours and 30 minutes including intermission.
See you at the theatre!