, Natural History Museum, London, to 30 December
IT鈥橲 a classic coming-of-age tale: a dreamy, slightly petulant youth goes to sea and has adventures of both life and soul-threatening sorts, to return years later, a man.
But this is not any man, it is one whose voyage will change the world. Thirty years after his return he published the synthesis of all he learned on that journey, woven with new scientific ideas of the time. We know it as Charles Darwin鈥檚 On the Origin of Species.
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The Wider Earth, a play at London鈥檚 Natural History Museum, reminds us just how controversial ideas about evolution were in his time.
Produced for the UK by Trish Wadley Productions and Dead Puppet Society after sell-out seasons in Australia, it also offers a refreshing angle on the human story of Darwin. Here he is a callow 22-year-old setting sail in 1831 aboard HMS Beagle, as ship鈥檚 naturalist and gentleman鈥檚 companion to its honourable but irascible captain, Robert FitzRoy.
For all its fun and levity, The Wider Earth is commendably accurate, thanks in part to the involvement of the Natural History Museum and its veteran palaeobiologist Adrian Lister, who provided scientific advice.
Actor Bradley Foster plays an exuberant and idealistic Darwin, clutching geologist Charles Lyell鈥檚 Principles of Geology, published in the 1830s. Lister says Darwin was heavily influenced by Lyell, who suggested that geological processes happened gradually.
This was in marked contrast to the concept of catastrophism, still prominent at the time, which held that Earth was static and that sudden, violent events like floods or earthquakes created geological features. Lyell鈥檚 concept of gradual change would eventually inform Darwin鈥檚 ideas for shifts in the biological world as a result of natural selection.
The Wider Earth wrestles with many weighty issues 鈥� science, religion, Empire, God, politics and slavery. It manages to maintain a youthful energy, only delving into darkness occasionally. At one point, FitzRoy and Darwin have a heated row over slavery, to which Darwin is deeply opposed. And off the coast of the islands of Tierra del Fuego, after a missionary flees back to the ship, and amid fire and storm, and a revelation about what happened to the previous captain, the play looks like it might take a detour into Apocalypse Now territory.
But the true highlight of the show has to be the 30 incredible animal puppets, which fly, glide and lumber over the stage. While the play has a 10-plus age recommendation, these are not children鈥檚 puppets. They are wonderfully sophisticated pieces, representing everything from shoals of fish to giant, ponderous Galapagos tortoises. The actors double as puppeteers and turn out to be skilled at it 鈥� their manipulations create a remarkably lifelike effect.
鈥淭he play reminds us just how controversial ideas about evolution were in Darwin鈥檚 time鈥�
The models they control were made by Dead Puppet Society, based in Brisbane and New York City; its creative director David Morton came up with the idea for the play while he was in South Africa working with the makers of the War Horse puppet.
The play is the first to be performed at the Natural History Museum. It could not have a more apt and inspiring setting, nestled between glass cases in a pop-up theatre created in the Jerwood Gallery, part of the museum鈥檚 modern Darwin wing.
However, there are a few issues. The main circular set, which transforms seamlessly from island to office to ship, is partially ringed by a large projection screen displaying a dynamic backdrop of stars, maps and changing vistas. But the full visual experience is somewhat limited in the first few rows of seating. And the otherwise wonderful play can suffer from clich茅d dialogue such as: 鈥淚f I don鈥檛 take this opportunity, I might always wonder what might have been.鈥�
But these are minor flaws in an otherwise strong piece of theatre. And did I mention the wonderful puppets?
This article appeared in print under the headline 鈥淒arwin鈥檚 early evolution鈥�
