Metamorphoses

Divine madness in Metamorphoses and Sub-Zero

Mary Zimmerman's Metamorphoses, adapted from Ovid's anthology of Greek and Roman myths, was a surprise hit Off-Broadway a few years ago and was eventually transformed into a Broadway success. The production had a marvelously graceful cast and a beautiful central image: the stage was dominated by a shallow pool of water, its shifting surface a metaphor for the stories of lovers turning into birds or literally dissolving in tears. Or perhaps it represented the origins of life, or the unconscious, or ... come to think of it, the concept was a little vague. But it was beautiful and that was enough. There is no such potent imagery in the humble Black Box Theater at The Boston Center for the Arts, where Boston Actor's Theater is staging the play's local professional debut, and the lack of theatrical fireworks makes it easier to spot a strange diffidence in the script. Under Danielle Leeber's direction the play achieves a roughhewn charm, but it seldom hits the heights I hoped for.

Beginning with a creation myth, the show speeds through retellings of 10 stories loosely connected by the theme of love. One of the nice surprises of Metamorphoses is its emphasis on some of the less-familiar myths; here Pomona and Vertumnas get equal billing with Eros and Psyche, while Narcissus and Pandora are reduced to funny cameos. There are also two accounts of Orpheus's attempt to rescue Eurydice from Hades, one from Eurydice's point of view. It's all told with a down-to-earth mixture of comedy and drama, bawdiness and dignity that relies on physicality and clever staging.

The play's first act takes for granted the relevance of these fables, but that straightforwardness gives way to a strange self-consciousness in the second act, as Zimmerman sets up a winking lecture from a psychiatrist about the Freudian underpinnings of mythology and enacts the story of Cupid and Psyche in dumb show while a narrator tells us that myths totally matter, dude. Ironically, this distances us from the material. The cast members are competent but don't quite have the fire necessary to bridge the gap. The show could use more of Joey Pelletier's ease and fluidity, Jonathan Overby's regal manner and unexpected knack for comedy, and Krista D'Agostino's poignant humanity. When they take center stage, the gods are smiling.