Theater Review : ‘And the Soul Shall Dance’ Makes a Welcome Return

When she inadvertently burns down her family’s bath house, 11-year-old Masako (Anna Quirino) must walk with her family to the farm next door to bathe at night. There she notices that the peculiar, beautiful lady of the house is undergoing some kind of emotional upheaval, that she drinks heavily and that her fights with her husband grow violent behind the closed doors of their house.

Wakako Yamauchi adapted her play “And the Soul Shall Dance” from a short story--very short--that is remarkably efficient in painting a picture of Japanese immigrant life during the Depression in California’s Imperial Valley. Yamauchi imparts the flavor of a hard life at a time when illegal immigrants were not able to own land and she does it without standing at the chalkboard with a pointer.

In celebration of its 30th-anniversary season, East West Players is presenting an arresting production of Yamauchi’s play, first commissioned by the theater in 1977 (and filmed for PBS the same year). Although a few scenes are overlong and over-explicated, Yamauchi tells a good story very well. Under the direction of Jim Ishida, Masako’s father in the original cast, the actors bring that story vividly to life.

Not surprisingly, the beautiful lady Emiko (Denise Iketani) had a sad history. She was forced to marry her dead sister’s husband, Oka (Benjamin Lum). But Oka is not simply a brute. In Lum’s portrayal, he is a big and often kind man, given to barking laughter, who is willing to love his wife but who is fed up with her petulance and her addiction, although he drinks quite a bit himself. Their scenes together are among the most exposition-heavy and repetitive in an otherwise cleanly written play.

Once he sends for his daughter Kiyoko (Kelly Miyashiro) from Japan, he becomes the most loving of fathers, transferring his thwarted affection from his sullen wife to his child, forcing Emiko into ever-further isolation.

This sad but not sadly told story is observed by the curious Masako and her tactful mother Hana (Sharon Omi) and father Murata (Nelson Mashita). Masako is encouraged to befriend Kiyoko, but she is put off by Kiyoko’s shuffling steps and bowed head. Worse, whenever Kiyoko giggles, which is frequently, her hand goes to her mouth. Masako finds these cultural affectations galling.

Kiyoko’s arrival brings a new dimension to the story. Miyashiro communicates the immense awkwardness of the newly arrived immigrant; she seems to want to crawl out of her skin. Her downcast eyes signal her utter isolation from her surroundings. When she finds the courage to raise them, her alarmed giggle evokes the surreal nature of the new reality that greets her.

Omi also does impressive work, as a woman always trying to slip a composed expression over her worried one, and hardly ever succeeding.

Character details are well observed, such as the way Hana straightens the sandals lined up outside the front door before going in to angrily scold her daughter. At the neighbor’s farm, Hana and Murata disappear to the bathhouse together and come back laughing in such a way that fills in much about their affectionate marriage.

Yuki Nakamura has designed a two-part, fold-up set that suggests the two dwellings with a nifty economy. They take a little long to unfold, however.

“And the Soul Shall Dance” refers to a line in a song Emiko sings about what happens when you drink a certain green wine. There is no irony in this reference--perhaps because the play so completely understands how hard life can be.

The tragedy of Emiko’s life is not burdened with the idea that she could have pulled herself together. Whatever makes the soul dance for this brief time, Yamauchi seems to say, is blessing enough.

* “And the Soul Shall Dance,” East West Players, 4424 Santa Monica Blvd., Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m. Ends Feb. 18. $20. (213) 660-0366. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes.