Tom Stoppard is one of the greatest wordsmiths ever, and his 1972 play, Jumpers, now on Broadway, is an early expression of his agility. It's a little razz-ma-tazz, a lot of philosophical fol-de-rol, and a speculation on God, Man, moral philosophy and logic. Stoppard shows his glittering mind as it explores conundrums of reality and contradictions in perception. The ideas are splashed fast and furious, but often so fast that if we dwell for a moment to appreciate, the actor, Simon Russell Beale, as directed David Leveaux, has raced on to the next two dazzlers, and we miss much.
There is no time to savor the layers of meaning and fascinating ideas Stoppard throws at us. Beale is a really good actor, but racing to the finish pithy sentences in a British accent obscures too much text for an American audience. (A friend of mine, the head of Communications at a major university in the New York area, saw Jumpers the other day and told me he understood about twenty percent of what was said.)
Vicki Mortimer's brilliant set gives us the best action in the show, and Aidan Treays choreography of an amateur acrobatic troupe (the "jumpers") is marvelous, as are the costumes by Nicky Gillibrand. Essie Davis, the female lead of the show, is truly a star. She is riveting -- even when her clothes are on. When they are off, she's divine. And Nicky Henson as a suave antagonist is perfect. Now I want to read the play and relish Stoppard's brilliantly funny wordschticks.
