The Toronto Theatre Review: Soulpepper/TRIA Theatre’s King Gilgamesh & the Man of the Wild
By Ross
Toronto— whose very name means ‘meeting place’ —feels like the perfect setting for the intoxicatingly fascinating and emotional retelling of King Gilgamesh & the Man of the Wild. Ushered in most hypnotically and beautifully by a tambourine-playing King, a line of dedicated stellar musicians, and a piano-playing wildman, take their place inside the rustic, chandelier-lit space of Toronto’s Soulpepper Theatre. Under the warm glow of light, created delicately by set and lighting designer Lorenzo Savoini (Stratford’s London Assurance), an ancient, legendary tale is unraveled in the most surprisingly engaging manner. With an impactful attention to connection and empathy, two compellingly complicated souls find each other in a moment of need. Unknowingly, they are each in need of a friendship that they didn’t see coming, and a musical enmeshment that goes beyond familiar borders, cultures, and ultimately, time.
In a co-production with Toronto-based TRIA Theatre, Soulpepper‘s King Gilgamesh & the Man of the Wild sings its majestically beautiful self forward, telling the epic tale of Gilgamesh, a lost and lonely great King, and his search for eternal life alongside his foe-turned-friend, the wild man, with solid conviction and ever-present honesty and warmth. It’s an inventive two-storied engagement, all while unpacking the oldest known epic narrative in human history within another, more contemporary. The other is one of connection and friendship that roots itself firmly and wisely in a Toronto coffee shop meeting thousands of years later, far from the ancient Mesopotamia where Gilgamesh ruled as King of Uruk. Yet somehow, as created with clarity and compassion by the show’s director, Seth Bockley (Public’s February House), and its two stars and playwright collaborators; Jesse LaVercombe (Tarragon’s Post-Democracy) and Ahmed Moneka (Crow’s Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo), King Gilgamesh and the Man of the Wild finds magic and wonderment in its musical melting pot, layering the present and past; the contemporary and the legend, with such precision that it pulls you into its sexual down-dog pose with beguiling ease.
King Gilgamesh… is decidedly inventive and engrossing in its two-toned split, finding balance in its bridgework as we humbly encounter the two main men, LaVercombe and Moneka, who both (basically) play themselves and are our guides throughout this fascinating multi-dimensional journey. It’s a surprising twist of time and place when we are first introduced to the tea-making Ahmed, an Iraqi refugee, banished from his homeland for creating an Iraqi film that goes against his country’s moral code. He is receiving good news about his application for permanent residency in Canada, but bad news about his family. It’s tailored and sharp, this cellphone engagement, as it shifts our perspective as quickly as the tone when it becomes clear that his family, exiled in Turkey, also, because of the film, isn’t receiving the same treatment. It’s a terribly disturbing turn, one that is overheard by an anxious but caring actor, Jesse, who, after stepping in and congratulating Ahmed on his P.R. news, has to come to terms with his own dismissal. Jesse tries to empathetically connect, as he is also not from Canada. He is currently living in Toronto after immigrating from Minnesota to be with his now ex-wife, but remaining for the universal health care that he couldn’t afford back in his homeland.
He is, as told by Ahmed, in essence, the wild man, Enkidu, from this ancient legend, civilized through sexual initiation into a land that is not his own, and unable to return. Essentially, he is destined to become friends with Ahmed, the lost and lonely “king” of the cafe, in search of eternal meaning and life in the land of Canada. Jesse’s phone call was to inform him that he lost out on the role he was supposed to have in a big-budget Hollywood film. He was already packed and ready to fly to LA, with all the hopes and dreams that come from getting this kind of part. But it has been snatched away, even though he so looks the part of an American soldier, says Ahmed. He is not tall enough, he is informed, to work alongside the movie’s star, Jeff “fucking” Daniels, so it seems his Blue Jay life is not going to change the way he hoped it would. He has nowhere to go now, and as his movie star dream door closes, and Ahmed’s opens up, the two find connection, and a camaraderie that takes root in the telling of a tale from and about one King and his newly converted wild man.
With music as its hypnotic background, thanks to the exceptional work of sound designer Adrian Shepherd-Gawinski (Tarragon’s The Hooves Belong…) and the show’s talented true-to-life Moneka Arabic Jazz band that includes Waleed Abdulhamid (bass), Jessica Deutsch (violin), Max Senitt (drums, percussion), Selcuk Suna (clarinet), and bandleader Demetri Petsalakis (music director/keyboard & oud), the “Epic of Gilgamesh” is told by Ahmed to engage and enlighten the distraught Jesse. At first, the parallels are dismissed, but as the celebration of life is communicated by this exiled and gifted singer and actor, the layering of time and place melts together with delicate intensity.
The way down is all about surrender, we are instructed, as the production crosses the boundary between myth and modernity, weaving the two stories until they’re inseparable. We watch Ahmed become the two-thirds god and one-third human, King Gilgamesh, and Jesse embodies the wildman, Enkidu, who is tamed by the sensual Shamhat for the task of seizing the throne from Gilgamesh. In that well-choreographed dance of almost death, the wild man Jew of Minnesota is eventually defeated by Gilgamesh, and a strong alliance is formed. This pact will lead them forward into the epic journey through the Cedar Forest into direct conflict with Humbaba, the monster guardian of the forest, and with Ishtar, the goddess of both sex and death.
LaVercombe, portraying both Jesse and wild man, Enkidu, and Moneka as Ahmed and King Gilgamesh, deliver the saga spectacularly, connecting emphatically to one another without artifice. The paralleling is perfection, finding authenticity in all timeframes, places, and even genders. It’s as harmonious as the music that swirls so beautifully around them, as we watch the friendship and collaboration that is at the heart of this piece be revealed and embodied. It’s an intuitive and artistic journey that we are taken on, lifting us all up with its musicality, humanity, and tender care. Director Bockley beautifully ushers the cast forward as elegantly as the music itself, guiding and enhancing the connectivity and emotional clarity of those standing bravely before us on that stage.
Assisted by the magic of the mushroom, the journey shifts between the present and past with the ease of a baton-passed towel of connectivity, even when it takes its time a bit too casually now and then. Ahmed’s impending fatherhood and Jesse’s movie acting career become easily enmeshed in the age-old nature of epic storytelling and musicality. It’s a complicated narrative to unpack, a bit messy at times, but the show, assisted by the show’s dramaturg, Guillermo Verdecchia (Soulpepper’s The Seagull), finds fluidity in its back and forth.
Showcasing two extremely talented and engaging actors seamlessly shifting form and foundation with expert ease, singing a song of safety, the wounded wild man, about to leave for his resurrected role, brings in clarity and conviction as beautifully as his turns on the piano and Ahmed’s sweet, elegant singing of Iraqi songs. “I didn’t understand, but I felt it,” Jesse states of the music. It’s an understatement on the whole epic journey that guides and gifts us at every turn. King Gilgamesh & the Man of the Wild is a superbly told saga that must be experienced to fully comprehend the emotional journey it will take you on. I hope you find the way and the time to sit down and have some tea with Ahmed, and hear this touching story of two tender immigrants, an oppressive King and the wonderful wild man who ventures out together to search two different worlds for eternal life and meaning. This is theatre as ritual, friendship, and myth-making — a story ancient and urgent, rooted in Toronto but echoing across time. It is not to be missed.
