'Peer Gynt' loosely points way to its potential

It turns out that the magic-making powers of Mark Rylance, the Shakespearean actor who seems capable of generating his own pixie dust onstage, only go so far.

He still has the charisma that he first showed to Twin Citians several years ago in "Twelfth Night" and "Measure for Measure." And he infuses even his most callous lines in "Peer Gynt," which opened Friday at the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis, with a baby-faced innocence and sweetness.

But even with a Herculean performance in the Ibsen classic -- he is onstage for most of the three-hour show -- Rylance cannot make the play more than a fetching mess. Further, the show's magnetic star could not give it his all on opening night because he does not yet have full command of his lines.

A celebrated part of the canon, "Gynt" is a picaresque with a reputation for frustrating adaptors and directors alike. This unruliness evidences itself in the current adaptation by luminary poet Robert Bly. Often clever and sly, Bly's "Gynt" teems with lyrical rhymes and vivid language. (He can be forgiven for the cheeky pun: "troll model.")

But in skipping around like scenes in a dream, "Gynt" easily gets lost in its herky-jerky rhythm and its opaque, slack narrative. You never know where the dancing in one scene is leading or why. You also don't get to know any of the other characters well enough to care about them. The closest we come is Gynt's mother, Asa (Isabell Monk O'Connor), whose dying gives the production its most poignant moment.

Staged loosely by Tim Carroll, "Gynt" begins with a bit of audience participation. Admirers have gathered for a surprise 50th birthday party for capitalist pig Peer (who is going through hard times and who is sometimes called Peter, although it's not clear why).

As the revelers celebrate, Peer has deathbed-style flashbacks over his life: to his mother, who castigates him for being a liar; to scenes of dancing and the wedding where he "steals" the bride and becomes an outlaw; to his visit with trolls (and having a child with one, played by Tracey Maloney in bright wig and multi-colored tail).

The production has some handsome actors, a nice musical trio, and some lovely effects, including floorboards that undulate for a sea journey. And the most touching scene in the show is probably its simplest: After running away and hiding as an outlaw in the mountains, Peer returns to his dying mother. He tells her a story, for old time sake, using his shoe as a horse and carriage. It is an elegant testament to the power of storytelling.

But, alas, there are not many such moments in the empty barn set created by scenic designer Laura Hopkins. That may be because the characters are frankly not developed in the show. Peer's many women are devices. And Peer's imagination comes alive unevenly in Carroll's staging.

Going to the theater requires a surrender of the world around you for a journey into the imagination. "Gynt" has many ends that dangle tantalizingly. I suspect that as the show continues its run, it will find a rhythm to help it point further in the direction of its potential.

Rohan Preston • 612-673-4390