On its synthetic surface, the premise of “Kafka on Ice” sounds as slippery as a fiddler on the roof. “Kafka on Ice”? What’s next? “Asimov on AstroTurf”?
“Shakespeare on Steroids”? “Capote on Peyote”?
But the Buntport Theater Company consistently makes miracles seem mundane. In this case, they stage the life of Franz Kafka with accessible intellect, self-effacing humor … and all the musical flair of the Ice Capades.
The crowd is seated around a rectangular synthetic surface, upon which the actors can skate as naturally as if they were in a real rink. We are introduced to Kafka (guest artist Gary Culig) as five company regulars spin and salchow around him in white figure skates and Lycra tights. Kafka’s grandfather, we are told, was so strong he could carry a sack of flour in his teeth, and whoosh! Here comes teeth-clenched Hannah Duggan speed-skating across the stage like Apolo Ohno.
The premise is not entirely ridiculous. The skating is choreographed so precisely, it actually adds elegance to the storytelling by heightening the pace and rhythm. That Kafka is the only character not on skates is consistent with his place as one of history’s quintessential loners. And there is even a literary basis: “I hold onto facts,” Kafka wrote in his journal, “like a beginner learning to skate.”
OK, that’s all a bit strained. The Buntporters skate because it’s fun … and funny.
Kafka’s bio is woven into a dramatization of his classic 1912 story “The Metamorphosis,” in which traveling salesman Gregor Samsa turns into a monstrous vermin.
Kafka died at 40 of tuberculosis, and much is made of how his private writings were later exploited for profit. Pesky acquaintance Gustav Janouch (Evan Weissman) even took his largely fabricated conversations with Kafka and sold them as a doctrine advocating libertarian socialism.
On stage, Kafka is horrified to learn these ramblings have been analyzed, recycled and turned into, well, this play. “But you love the theater,” friend Max (Brian Colonna) goads. “I am not sure this qualifies,” Kafka replies dryly.
It does. “Kafka on Ice” not only presents real insight into the man who came to embody all beaten down drones, it offers terrific opportunities for Buntport’s signature form of experimentation.
Kafka’s first, awkward sexual encounter is played out as a silent film. His briefcase opens into a miniature, 3-D map of 1883 Prague. The words of his short story unfold into a life-size man, with whom his lover dances. Music, costumes and video projections inject further understanding and humor. It is no accident that the sound of Kafka’s pen scribbling on paper duplicates the sound of Gregor’s bug scurrying across the floor.
This is another superb ensemble effort, but the smartly understated Culig stands out in the featured role. The most sublime moment is a wholly tangential scene in which Kafka finds himself in a contemporary English class led by a teacher (Erin Rollman) hilariously bluffing her way through Kafka’s text with the help of an online lesson plan.
“Kafka on Ice” has its problems. It intentionally loses its grip by turning almost wholly into a bad 1970s musical offering a much happier alternate ending to “The Metamorphosis.” No real attempt is made to explain why Kafka remains a beacon for the alienated and downtrodden. Or that buried in Kafka’s work is real hope.
The irony of “Kafka on Ice” is that Buntport never skates. Not only have they brought this enormously original work to life, they are performing it in repertory with another entirely new work, “Macblank.”
-John Moore, October 15, 2004, Denver Post