Life of Pi: Between the Novel, Cinema, and Theatre

By Malek Al-Qallaf – London

When I headed to the Duchess Theatre in central London to attend the play Life of Pi, I was still under the spell of the 2012 film adaptation directed by the Taiwanese filmmaker Ang Lee. But I was astonished to discover a completely different artistic composition—one that made me wrestle with my amazement and hold back tears at the same time!

The production is, of course, a stunning and magical stage adaptation of the famous novel by the Canadian author Yann Martel, which won the Man Booker Prize in 2001 and was later turned into the film mentioned above. Yet, in my view, what distinguishes the stage version is its ability to transform a story filled with symbolism and philosophical reflection into a live performance brimming with vitality. It does so through innovative theatrical techniques such as giant puppets and visual projections، especially the tiger puppet! It’s a massive puppet operated in full view by two people, and unlike the usual tendency to hide the puppeteers, the director made no attempt to conceal them. Nevertheless, the audience’s eyes never strayed from the puppet itself. The use of puppets to represent animals in general was ingenious, but the tiger’s movements were so lifelike that the audience forgot they were watching a puppet, not a real animal.

The story revolves around “Pi,” a young Indian man who finds himself alone on a lifeboat in the middle of the ocean after a shipwreck that claimed his family and the animals from the zoo they ran. Sharing the boat with him is a fierce tiger named “Richard Parker.” What begins as a struggle for survival soon transcends the physical and plunges into the depths of the spirit. The play does not merely recount a survival tale; it raises existential questions about faith, truth, and imagination. It opens with the line: “I will tell you a story that will make you believe in God,” preparing the audience for a profound spiritual and intellectual experience.

I was particularly struck by how the production transformed the stage floor into a moving ocean using projection technology, creating a total sense of immersion in the story’s world. It is also fair to mention the actor who played “Pi,” whose performance was full of vitality, skillfully conveying curiosity, fear, and hope. This gave the character a human depth that made the audience empathize with both Pi and the tiger at once.

The difference between the stage and film versions lies in how the stage direction inventively tackled the details of the production despite the challenges of a text so full of sensory fantasy. The show managed to blend technical and artistic elements with symbolism and its layers of meaning. It preserved the essence of the original novel while adding powerful theatrical touches that, in a seamless way, created a strong emotional interaction between the audience and the story—especially in moments of reflection and dramatic turning points.

Despite the wide acclaim and immense popularity it enjoys across Europe, I still found some scenes harder to connect with, where the religious and philosophical symbolism felt heavy or unclear—especially for those unfamiliar with the original novel. Some narrative transitions may also seem obscure without prior background. Yet, in the end, this does not in any way diminish the fact that Life of Pi is a unique theatrical experience, blending art and contemplation to present a survival story that transforms into a spiritual journey. It is an invitation to ponder the meaning of truth and the human capacity for adaptation and survival—not only physically, but also mentally and spiritually.