Twice On This Island

Paul Simon, the great musician and lyricist (you know, the member of Simon and Garfunkel that, well, isn’t Garfunkel) wrote, “I’ve built walls, a fortress mighty, that none may penetrate… I have no need of friendship, friendship causes pain, it’s laughter and it’s love that I disdain.” Simon went on to echo in the chorus, “I am a rock. I am an island.” According to Webster’s online dictionary (don’t you just love the World Wide Web?) an “island” is, “Something isolated, having little or no direct contact or communication with others.” Islands, it seems, appear in our stories full of treasure, shipwrecks, strange creatures, animated cartoons, and even several plane-crashed strangers that can’t escape (even after 3 seasons). The fascination with islands may be, after all, that we, like Paul Simon, often feel “isolated” ourselves, and wonder if we are an island too.

On the topic of islands, as well as creating social commentary on love, forgiveness, apartheid, polytheism, and strange head-gear, is “Once On This Island,” a musical by Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahrens, currently being performed by the SCERA Youth Theater’s advanced group “Acting Up!” at the SCERA theater in Orem (Utah County resembling more a “bubble” than an “island). The musical journey begins on the magical, bright and colorful Island of Dr. Seuss, where piñatas go to die. Beginning with a rousing drum number (though I kept waiting for someone to yell “wipeout,) we realize that this musical is actually a “story within a story,” (Hmm… rather like an island? Maybe not).

The inner story, which could easily be an adaptation of both “The Little Mermaid,” and “Romeo and Juliet,” (with some elements of “Cool Runnings”), is actually told by Storytellers to a young and frightened girl during a storm (Now where were those storytellers during Hurricane Katrina?). They tell the young girl of an island, ruled over by four gods (Kinda sounds like Great Britain). These Gods respectively being The Queen of Hearts Erzulie (who really likes the color red), Asaka, the Mother of the Earth and Queen of Narnia, Papa Ge, the God of Death, and Papa Smurf, the God of Water (Who now calls himself Agwe). On this island, too, is a storm, and in the storm the Gods choose to save a young girl in a tree. The islanders and creatures all sing about this being “just one small girl” (but that’s what they said about Elizabeth Smart).

And so the small girl is found in her magical multi-handed tree by two poor peasant islanders, Mama Euralie and Tonton Julian. Apparently Mama and Tonton have watched too much “Lion King” and name the girl Timoune. This island, it seems, is home to two very different worlds – one rich, one poor, one upper-class, one peasant, one British, one Scottish (oh wait, that’s Britain again) one dressed mostly in white, and one in muted browns (Don’t be fooled by those in mostly white clothes, they’re still half “colored”). The worlds, then, are the worlds of the poor peasants and the Grande Hommes. Timoune, then, is born or “found” into this lower class, and she dreams about the other, wishing she could be “Part of your world.”

Timoune grows up, as girls generally do, and during her prayer “Waiting for Life,” the Gods return. They debate on different forms of entertainment with the girl (most of which involve a mango, which could be considered a weapon of mass consumption). The Queen of Hearts, however, desires to give Timoune love, wagering it to be stronger than any other element. This offends Papa Ge (who shall henceforth be referred to as “Evil Aladdin”), who wagers that death is stronger, more powerful, and more lasting (The Island of Death being nearby, apparently … and called Cuba). And so, the Gods’ plan is put into effect. Agwe brings about another storm (and “moons” everyone… get it? Never mind). Within this storm Agwe uses his most powerful weapon – giant blue streamers. These streamers of death manage to wreck the car of a young Grand Hommes, Daniel, who is found near-death by the young Timoune. An argument ensues among the peasants about Daniel’s fate (just your typical “right to die,” “pro-life,” and “equal opportunity” debate). Timoune convinces her father to let her care for the man, during which time he will journey to the Grande Hommes to take them word of Daniel. During his journey Timoune nurses Daniel back to health, and the two hold hands and sing “Almost Paradise.” Evil Aladdin, however, complicates things by coming to collect Daniel’s soul. Timoune bargains with him to “take her instead.” The deal is made, and Papa Ge ensures her that he will come to collect at some point (Papa Ge being the only member of the IRS on the island).

Meanwhile Tonton journeys to the other side of the island and learns the tale of the Grande Hommes, which is the “Sad Tale of the Beauxhommes” (apparently to speak French you need only add some random, silent, and pointless letters to any word. Or is it “wordé?”). This sad tale began with Daniel’s ancestor, Willy Wonka (I mean Armand). Armand, who was French, falls for a young native girl on the island, and has an illegitimate child (Thus beginning the first Jerry Springer episode of “Who’s Your Baby’s Daddy?”). Armand’s son then fights with him and drives him from the island. He does, however, leave a curse upon his son (Yeah, he is French after all).
Back in the Harlem side of the island, Tonton returns from the Grand Hommes’ hotel to return Daniel to his proper place (After all, they beat him up and bleached the front of his shirt!). Timoune proceeds to argue with her parents (Yeah, she must now be a teenager) and they reluctantly allow her to journey to Daniel’s side of the island to follow her heart and her “love.” The first half of the show ends with a rousing number, courtesy of Asaka the Queen of Narnia (who is channeling the spirit and voice of Queen Latifah). Asaka animates frogs, birds, and trees to assure Timoune that “Mama will provide” (One of those trees dances just like Michael Jackson, but has the face of Macaulay Culkin).

The second half of the show begins on the “rich” side of the island. This is especially apparent, as gossip and rumors are under full sway. Apparently “some say,” all sorts of things about how Timoune arrived on the Grande Hommes’s side of the island. Some say she was transported magically. Some say it had something to do with a car. Some say they saw Charlie Sheen in camouflage dancing in the background. Some say a lot of things. Timoune, however the means, does reunite with Daniel, and struggles to heal his bum leg.

Meanwhile the villagers continue to gossip about Daniel and “some girls.” Some girls you learn from, some you teach. Some you marry, some you love. And some go to Young Womens. Meanwhile the Grande Hommes prepare for a Grand Dance (you might even call it a Ball, but that would be too much fairy-tale crossover). Attending the ball are all of Daniel’s rich associates, his father, and I think I saw the King of Siam. Also in attendance, however, is Andrea Deveraux, who, Timoune learns, is Daniel’s fiancée. She learns this after dancing for the gathered crowd and proving that she does, indeed, love Daniel. However, Daniel knows his own place, and leaves Timoune for Andrea (but maybe Timoune could be his intern?).

With the perfect timing that only the God of Death can master, Papa Ge re-enters. He reminds Timoune of their deal, but offers to spare her in exchange for the original prize – Daniel’s life. Timoune, then, must choose between her own life and that of her love, even after he has rejected and scorned her. Entering Daniels’ “den” J Timoune, in the end, can not betray her heart, and she chooses not to kill Daniel, though wakes him to find her standing nearby with a knife (Some girls, after all, aren’t very sneaky when committing homicide). Timoune is banished from the Grande Hommes estate, and her final encounter with Daniel outside his gate is days later, following his marriage to Andrea, when he places a coin in her hand and she dies.
However, moved by her sacrifice and story, Timoune is welcomed by the Gods. Erzulie takes her by the hand, Agwe circles her with a giant streamer, and Pape Ge struggles to carry her across the Bridge of Death, where she is welcomed by Asaka and turned into a tree (Should someone tell her that her “roots” are showing?). The tree that they transform her into manages to break the gates of the hotel, allowing a future young peasant girl and Tiny Tim Beauxhomme to play together and fall in love. Timoune, then, though not in life, manages in death to bridge the two worlds and connect the two halves of her “island.” The tale of Timoune, then, having been fully told by the storytellers to the young frightened girl, is retold by her, adding, “God bless us everyone.”

However, unlike islands, the story of Timoune, is not isolated or disconnected. It is a story that is found in many climes and countries. It is the story of Romeo and Juliet, the story of the Little Mermaid, and the story of an American Idol (would that make Simon “Papa Ge?”). It is the story even stronger than earth, water, love, or death. It is the human tale that allows us to dream of greater things, to make journeys without knowing their end, and to give love unconditionally. For it may be that in loving without receiving it in return, and with her forgiveness, that Timoune gives us that most powerful lesson of all. We are not in competition with each other, and nobody has to be voted off the island. We do need each other to survive. And we must do good for others without expecting anything in return. Despite Paul Simon’s words, no man is an island. Said the poet, “No man is an island, no man stands alone. Each man’s joy is joy to me, each man’s grief my own. We need one another, this I will defend. Each man is my brother, each man is my friend.” We truly are connected, and whether it be by love, ancestry, death, storms, bright-colored clothing, or distaste of the French, the theme that we are not islands is why we tell this story. Well, that, and for the mangos. Because no man dislikes mango.