1 PIPPIN Study Guide

PIPPIN Study Guide

An Opportunity to Share Your Wisdom! On Friday, 10/25, we will take a test on the play that will focus on character analysis and theme. The format will be essay questions. We will have both class periods to work on the test. (about 90 minutes) Those who like to work on a computer can bring from home. We’ll also have the computers in the Library available. If needing extra time, don’t worry- we’ll create an additional time slot during the next Performing Arts class to finish.

Preparation: Read the script carefully including the songs. Be familiar with the events that occur, and the characters involved in the action. Check out the articles included in this packet. This will be an open book test. Use of the script and the below is encouraged to support your viewpoints. Of course, it will be your interpretations that are key. All articles are posted online. Hard copies distributed

• “Pippin Themes and Meaning, Interview with Stephen Schwartz” • “INSIDE PIPPIN,” Scott Miller, New Line Theatre • From DAYS IN THE LIFE website: The Real *bleep*ing Meaning • FROM THE FEMINIST SPECTATOR, JUNE 25, 2013

FROM “Pippin Themes and Meaning”- interview with Stephen Schwartz (He wrote the script)

Overall Themes? “Basically, PIPPIN is about a young man in search of what to do with his life. But like many of us in contemporary society, particularly those with enough economic freedom to allow choice, he has the illusion that there is one particular choice which, if only he finds it, will lead to complete fulfillment and contentment. He has not yet learned that it is the process of seeking that contains the joy, not the attainment of the goal itself. He also is quite selfish in his pursuits at the beginning, as most of us are when we are young. It isn't until he learns to give himself to someone else (Catherine and her son) that he begins to find a sense of inner peace and self---worth. Ultimately, he realizes that the demand for something without flaw or compromise is not just self---defeating but ultimately self---destructive. He must come to accept that life is never perfect and that what we have to do is find something and someone to care about, devote ourselves to that, and do the best we can. In other words, he grows up. I know a lot of this answer is couched in 90's psycho---babble, but I hope you will understand what I mean and I hope it proves helpful.”

Relevance? ... I think the continuing interest in the show for people stems from the central struggle of its title character, a young man trying to find something meaningful to do with his life. I think he asks questions we all ask ourselves, and experiences disappointments and frustrations that we either have personal familiarity with or have observed in the lives of others. I think the mordant tone of the show, its lack of sentimentality in viewing the idealism and romanticism of its hero, is also something that resonates for contemporary audiences. Plus, of course, it's sexy and funny, which usually doesn't hurt.”

1 FROM “Pippin Themes and Meaning”, continued Relativity to VIETNAM WAR? “There's no question that PIPPIN was greatly affected by having been written during the Vietnam era. Not only the war sequence (or perhaps anti---war sequence would be a better way to put it), but the political sequence when Pippin becomes king and tries to put all his idealistic principles into practice, were influenced by what were then current events. If the war section made left-wing members of the audience happy, the Pippin--- as---emperor section probably made right-wing members of the audience equally happy. But I think it is too limiting to view the entire show as being about a reaction to the Vietnam war, or any other single event. Pippin's search for something fulfilling to do with his life is, I believe, timeless and universal

Why set himself on fire? The following is of course an over--- simplification: but in essence they represent the part of all of us that is never satisfied, the hunger that can never be sated, the desire for excitement and glamour that is impossible to achieve, the unfulfillable urges that lead us to self-destructive behavior, excess, depression for some, and mania for others (or for the same people at different times.) The extreme version of never being able to be devoted enough to something to be able to commit to it is a spiral of self-destruction. Pippin's setting himself on fire is a metaphor for that (and actually derives from a Greek myth of a character who kept changing shape until he ultimately burst into flame.)

The ending? There is certainly no intention (nor any stage direction to that effect in the script) to have Pippin and Catherine "run away in fear", but rather for them to look on helplessly as they realize that their son, like all of us, will have to wrestle with his own demons and make his own choices…Pippin has made his choice, and has successfully and heroically come to terms with the realities of life. But he has not chosen for all men for all time. By taking the spotlight, literally and figuratively, off of Pippin at the end, and putting it onto the emerging consciousness of Theo, I feel the ending makes the show more universal and more clearly (and theatrically) dramatizes this universal human choice.

Morals? I don't really like to tell people the "moral" of any of my shows; I think each member of the audience should take from a show what he or she will. That being said, I think it's clear that Pippin talks about having to find a balance in one's life between idealism and ambition and finding a life one can commit to, even if it doesn't satisfy every longing or goal. One doesn't want to just settle for something and give up one's dreams and aspirations, but on the other hand, one doesn't want to chase something that is always endlessly just out of reach and wind up nowhere and with nothing. It's a choice each of us (in a relatively free, class---less society anyway) has to deal with (or run away from) and find a way to reconcile.

From INSIDE PIPPIN, Scott Miller, New Line Theatre Pippin is a largely under-appreciated musical with a great deal more substance to it than many people realize. Because it rejects a Happily-Ever-After in favor of a real world ending of compromise and doubt, and because it is happening in real time and on a stage, it may also be one of the most realistic musicals ever produced. Though it is set in Charlemagne's France, it is about the here and now; sprinkled with anachronisms in the costumes and dialogue, it makes

2 INSIDE PIPPIN, continued no pretense at actually being a period piece, despite its characters' names. It is about America as much as The Music Man or Oklahoma! The show deals with the coming of age, the rites of passage, the lack of role models and guidelines for the young adults of today's society, and the hopelessness that has become more and more prevalent among young people…Even people who've done the show often don't realize the depth of meaning and subtext in Pippin. The show may actually have even more resonance today than it did when it ran on Broadway in the 1970's. In America, the teens and young adults of our culture find themselves without a road map, without any discernible guidelines for growing up and making their way in the world. The American Dream doesn't exist today in the same way it did in the earlier days … Pippin is a young man just out of college, with plenty of energy but no idea where to direct it. He wants complete fulfillment, the too-hyped “American Dream,” and has been told that he can have it all if he just works hard enough. When Pippin is confronted with the mundane realities of life and finds that he can't have his ideal life, he is angry and bitter…Our increasingly secular society has lost touch with the myths and lessons that guided earlier generations and that still guide people in other cultures. Pippin is lost. All he needs is a guide to point him in the right direction, but how will Pippin know when the right guide has come along? Because of (the style of the play-breaking the 4th Wall), we—as audience—become a part of the event, a part of the action, more so than with any other musical. Not only do characters interact with us throughout the show, but we also become a reason for Pippin to kill himself in the finale, as Leading Player tells him he's going to disappoint the audience if he doesn't set himself on fire. We witness the Leading Player(s) losing control of the show, so that the show both admits its artifice and pretends to reality simultaneously. Catherine rebels by taking control of her scene and singing a song that Leading Players don’t know she's going to sing (the song is traditionally not listed in the program for this reason). Then Pippin rebels, by refusing to do the finale. Finally, Leading Player loses all composure and has a temper tantrum, signaling a total loss of control. Leading Player then involves us again by inviting one of us to take Pippin's place. We become the show's only hope of going on as planned. Our decision affects how the show will end (although what would happen if one of us volunteered?). Also, the Leading Player is doing something you usually only see in straight plays…the Leading Player lies, and not just to Pippin, but to us as well. We can't trust the character as we would a normal narrator, and unlike a normal narrator, he/she manipulates events for his/her own purposes.

INSIGHTS INTO PIPPIN, the character: Instead of watching the standard happy, sincere lovers, we're watching someone who has all our faults and more, someone who is profoundly real and ordinary. We see ourselves in Pippin, and so though we don't pity him—after all, he brings everything on himself—we do identify with him. We see in him our own desire to find perfection in our lives. Pippin is in many ways the generic adolescent. He wants complete fulfillment and he wants it now. He thinks no one else is at all like him, and that no one can understand him. He tells Catherine that what's wrong with him is nothing she could possibly understand.

3 INSIDE PIPPIN, continued It's important not to sugar coat the characterization of Pippin. Make him too good- natured, too innocent, too wronged, and you lose the impact of his journey. By the end of the show, he has begun to grow up. He is a child when the show opens and he is an adult—or at least on his way to adulthood—when the show ends. Don't romanticize his childishness or you'll lose the value of what's he learned (or is about to learn) by the end. Don't be afraid to let Pippin be a selfish jerk sometimes. He is, because he's real; and what's more important, so are we all from time to time.

FAMILY AS STEREOTYPES- Pippin's family is made up entirely of stereotypes. Pippin's father Charles is the ultimate authority figure—the emperor of the Holy Roman Empire—whom Pippin describes as the most powerful man in the world in Scene 2. Charles is the father figure to whom Pippin can never measure up. By having Charlemagne for his father, Pippin has guaranteed that he can never be as smart, as powerful, as successful as his father. Fastrada is a typically evil step-mother who loves her own son (Lewis) more than her step-son. Lewis is the half-brother who is obviously (from Pippin's perspective) not half the man Pippin is, yet has a much easier life…Lewis is Pippin's opposite. He is animal, physical; while Pippin is cerebral, spiritual. Yet Pippin envies Lewis' prowess in battle, his strength, his confidence. Lewis is the kind of man Pippin thinks Charles wants him to be—brave, proud, never questioning.

PLAY WITHIN A PLAY: False appearances and artificiality play a big part in Pippin. His whole life is just a play, populated by stage sets, props, and actors; nothing is real. He is surrounded by a family who isn't really his family; they're just portraying his family. Fastrada is never what she seems to be; she pretends to love Charles, yet helps Pippin plan his assassination, and she continually calls herself an ordinary housewife and mother, which she clearly is not. But nobody pretends more than Pippin himself. He pretends to be a soldier, yet with Vietnam still fresh in the original Broadway audiences' minds, Pippin finds he has neither the stomach or enthusiasm for it. In fact, the show's anti-war statements are particularly disturbing considering the time frame, most notably in “Glory” and its softshoe dance break through a battlefield of dismembered limbs—as with most of Fosse's work, it's both funny and macabre. Pippin pretends to be a politician yet has absolutely no understanding of being a leader. Despite Charles' attempt to teach Pippin a last lesson in being king before Pippin kills him, Pippin still believes being king will be easy. Yet when he has to make life and death decisions, when the full responsibility of leading an empire bear down upon him, he crumbles under the weight. Like many people, he wants the power and privilege, but not the accountability. Pippin's biggest masquerade is as a monk in the chapel at Arles. Pippin enters dressed in monk's robes in order to get close enough to Charles to kill him. Compounding the charade is the fact that it isn't really Charles—it's a player playing Charles. Charles pretends not to know it's Pippin, although he must know; why else would he offer Pippin this last lesson in being king? Pippin's monk disguise also reverses the roles of father and son; Charles calls Pippin “Father” as he would a monk or priest, and Pippin calls Charles “my son.” The icing on the cake is that Charles' death isn't even real—Pippin later asks for his dagger back and Charles stands up and gives it back to him. The entire scene is filled with deception, contradiction, and falsehood—except for the truth that Charles tries to pass on to Pippin in his monologue about

4 INSIDE PIPPIN, continued the price that must be paid for order. Like all leaders, Charles knows there are always sacrifices necessary to achieve progress, but Pippin doesn't understand that, and his inability to see both sides of issues will bring about his failure as king.

SUN METAPHOR--There are several important images running through Pippin, the most noteworthy of which are the metaphorical references to the sun (and “son”). As the first-born son of Charlemagne, Pippin is connected repeatedly to sunrise, while Charles is sunset. The use of sunrise and sunset is symbolic of beginning and ending, life and death, an image used in many cultures throughout history, and this image ties the whole show together. If everything goes as Leading Players plans, Pippin the musical will encompass Pippin's entire life, from his birth to his death in a fiery suicide in the finale.

RELIGION--As Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, Charles is of necessity a religious man (though only to a degree). Pippin tells Charles early in the show that he thinks Charles in the most powerful man in the world, even more so than the Pope. Charles humbly agrees. In the same scene, Charles tells Pippin that he and the Pope have dedicated themselves to bringing Christianity to the world, even if that entails killing anyone who doesn't believe. Charles may believe in religion, but the basic tenets of Christianity have apparently escaped him.

Before the battle with the Visigoths, Charles asks Pippin and Lewis to pray for victory with him. As kings (and presidents) have done throughout history, Charles believes that God will help them in their killing, raping, and pillaging. But as a university student, Pippin has learned to question everything; and it occurs to him that the opposing king must also be praying, also believing that God is on his side. Like the young adults of today's world, Pippin won't blindly accept everything he's told. He's more educated than his father, but with that education comes a built-in skepticism. Pippin asks Charles if the other king is also praying for God's favor in the upcoming battle. Charles says with a bit of admiration that in fact the Visigoth king is a real pro at praying for victory. Pippin's confidence is shaken. If God isn't on their side, will they be killed? When Charles' father told him that God was on their side, Charles believed it; yet when Charles tells Pippin, Pippin looks at the statement objectively and realizes that surely God isn't on the side of both kings, in fact maybe God isn't on either side. But they win the battle anyway and in their victory song (“Glory”), they make references a number of religious images. Charles is seen as a minor deity himself, throwing wide the gates of heaven for his people. After the battle, Pippin has a discussion with a decapitated head about the hereafter. Pippin asks if the head will go to heaven and the head says that his king has promised him he will, though that is small consolation. Pippin begins to think dying for your king may not be all it's cracked up to be, heaven or not. Later, in the chapel scene, Pippin comes disguised as a monk to kill his father as he prays. As many authors have throughout the ages, the creators of Pippin found the mystery and secretiveness of the church a perfect place for a murder. Charles' belief that God is on his side is certainly called into question if his son can stab him to death while he prays. Then again, perhaps we're to believe that Charles might have been spared if he prayed more than once a

5 INSIDE PIPPIN, continued year. Maybe God and religion aren't being called into question here as much as man's faith and dedication to God. Pippin has seen that which side wins in a battle probably isn't connected to praying (since both sides pray), and that maybe violence shouldn't be perpetrated in God's name, as Charles has done for so long. Yet the only way for Pippin to stop Charles from killing is to kill him—yet another moral gray area. Pippin kills Charles, believing that he can start a new era of peace, but it's not that simple; peace doesn't begin with an act of violence. Pippin's faith in religion is shaken. He realizes during “On the Right Track” that the church is not serving the people, but is instead stuffing its own pockets. When Theo's duck dies later in the show, Pippin tries prayer as a last resort (“Prayer for a Duck”), but his failure only reinforces his observation earlier that events don't change merely because you ask God. The Visigoth king prayed but was defeated; Pippin and Theo pray, but the duck dies. All these experiences form the basis of his conviction at the end of the show that the angels of the morning are not in fact calling him to dance, that death—his or anyone else's—is no solution. He begins to see that religion and God are not necessarily connected, that what other people tell him about his life and destiny may not be as true as what he knows himself. Of course, if we accept that the show is happening entirely in Pippin's mind, then what others tell him is actually coming from his own mind. Like his other dilemmas, this too is an internal conflict between what he has been taught (i.e., organized religion) and what he has learned from experience (a spirituality independent of man-made institutions).

The Trouble with Catherine: The “Hearth” sequence, in which Pippin becomes involved with Catherine, is unlike the rest of the show. She's the only character who narrates her own segment. Is this a clue that she's going to rebel against Leading Player? Catherine is a player just like everyone else in Pippin's “life”—she isn't really a widow any more than Fastrada is really Pippin's step-mother. Why, at the end, does Catherine end up on Pippin's side? We can assume that, like all the other players, Catherine starts out the show working toward Pippin's failure. At some point though, she begins to have genuine feelings for him, and decides she won't work against him anymore. This interpretation makes sense if you leave in the interruptions by Leading Player. Catherine asks Pippin very sweetly if he will stay with her to run her very large estate. Suddenly, Leading Player appears and reminds her that the line is to be read naggingly; they even argue briefly. Later, Catherine accidentally says a line incorrectly, and again Leading Player appears and corrects her. And—here's the significant part—Leading Player warns her that she'd better stick to the script from now on. He senses her reluctance to follow the plot as it's laid out, and he's not happy about it. After Pippin has left Catherine, the lights begin to go out on the scene but Catherine asks for the lights to be held for a moment, and she sings “I Guess I'll Miss the Man.” In the Broadway production and in most other productions, this song is not listed in the program because Catherine is not supposed to be singing it; Leading Player doesn't know she is going to sing it. It's not in Leading Player's script. In the New Line Theatre production, Leading Player and a few of the other Players began to come out on stage during the song to see what was going on. When Catherine finishes, she suddenly sees Leading Player is standing right next to her, glaring. Catherine quickly leaves the stage.

6 Her actions show us that Catherine is straying from the plot and Leading Player worries that Catherine may be a threat to his control. It's a perfect set-up for Catherine's unexpected appearance during the final sequence, which makes Leading Player terribly angry. Catherine's appearance here needs to be set up earlier in order for it to make any sense. Her decision to stand by Pippin is a tremendous defiance of Leading Player, and the audience needs to be prepared for this turn of events. We need to see her growing fondness for Pippin over the course of several scenes and her reluctance to see him kill himself. The Grand Finale: The end of the show is genuinely bizarre and unlike the ending of any other musical. It is important to remember throughout Pippin that each event, each episode must be not only disturbing to Pippin, but to the audience as well. They have to feel the disgust and dismay Pippin feels. If the battlefield is not disturbing, if Fastrada and Lewis aren't intolerable, if the orgy isn't frightening, if Catherine's estate isn't claustrophobic, the audience won't accept that Pippin has come to the extreme position of considering suicide. Once he has failed to find fulfillment in anything he's tried, Leading Player leads Pippin gently toward the Grand Finale. When Pippin finds out the finale involves setting himself on fire, he resists. To convince him, the company sings the “Finale” and Pippin slowly gets sucked into their enthusiasm. When the players launch into a majestic four-part quotation of “Corner of the Sky,” we think Pippin may actually get into the fire. But suddenly he realizes the magnitude and finality of what he's considering and he stops. This sequence involves many subtextual implications. First of all, if this is all happening in Pippin's imagination, then he is actually trying to convince himself to commit this fiery suicide…It seems logical to assume from Leading Player's rage and surprise over Pippin's reticence that the players have done the show many times before (earlier, Catherine says in the original version that “they” don't usually touch her hand, indicating that other men have done this show in Pippin's place) but no one has ever refused to do the finale until now. If that's true, then they have never needed to sing this song before—it is, in fact, being made up on the spot. The song's structure is consistent with this interpretation—Leading Player sings the verse first alone, then Fastrada joins, then the rest of the company joins. Fosse told the original cast that the Players wanted Pippin to kill himself in order to achieve a kind of final realization of their desires. But Pippin decides he doesn't want to set himself on fire. This is a great breakthrough for him, and once Catherine has joined him on stage, it appears that his decision is final. Leading Player still tries to bully and shame him into the fire. The entire company turns on him, calling him a coward and a compromiser. This is the moment toward which the whole show has been building, the true test of Pippin's resolve. He makes the bravest choice yet—he chooses to ignore the peer pressure, the allure of fame and admiration, the abuse of Leading Player, the players' ridicule of Catherine. He accepts that he is not extraordinary, and in that moment, he finally becomes an adult. He leaves the childish fantasy and dreams behind and faces the real world for the first time, a life with Catherine that is not part of the play. By admitting that he is ordinary and by facing up to the realities of his life, he is finally truly courageous. He is, perhaps for the first time in his life, genuinely extraordinary. His ordeal throughout the show has been his rite of passage.

From DAYS IN THE LIFE website: The Real *bleep*ing Meaning

Okay, let’s summarize what we know about the show (again, spoilers, for those who haven’t seen it but somehow joined the fandom): Pippin is a young man with no idea what he wants from his life. Luckily, a traveling troupe of players appears who have helped other young men in Pippin’s predicament. They offer to play out his life for him – with colored lights, music and dance, comedy and drama – so that he can try things in his search for fulfillment. With the players’ help, his quest becomes a roller coaster ride of razzle-dazzle entertainment and seductively dangerous excesses. What Pippin doesn’t realize, though, is that the players’ only goal is for him to do their Grand Finale. They make sure he fails at everything, so that the finale will be his only remaining opportunity to find perfection. But it’s not until the big moment arrives that they tell Pippin what he has to do. They want him to get in a box and set himself on fire – “a glorious synthesis of life and death, and life again!” They want him to commit suicide, live on stage.

When Pippin resists, the Leading Player offers the opportunity to the audience. We can do the finale instead of Pippin. She (a valid casting choice, as placing a woman in the position of authority gives the show a much more contemporary feel) says to us, “If you should decide to do so, we’ll be there for you, waiting. Why, we’re right inside your heads.”

Up till that point, it’s a morality play with a {disheartening} moral. Pippin thinks the world owes him happiness. When he can’t find it, he’s angry, confused, bitter. And he’s being told he has to settle for the fulfillment of none of his ideals. But then the Leading Player says to us, “Why, we’re right inside your heads.” It’s a whole new ballgame, ladies and gentlemen. And that line shows their hand.

The players? They’re not some real life troupe. This isn’t the Pandemonium Shadow Show (although Ray Bradbury’s take on this story would be very interesting). It’s not a medieval Manson family taking in young men and murdering them. The players are in Pippin’s mind. They are a figment of his imagination (and/or our collective imagination). (emphasized for your benefit)

I’ve got proof! Sock it to 'em, Stephen Schwartz!…the way to think about the Players is to realize that they are actually in Pippin’s head, just as we all have those internalized voices that tell us we’re not good enough, rich enough, beautiful enough, etc., and that we have to make our goals conform to the shallow and misplaced goals we see touted by the media and our so-called societal leaders. The Players are not so much malevolent as they are eternally cynical and dissatisfied, because nothing in real life can be glamorous enough or spectacular enough to achieve the sort of romanticized perfection we carry in the movie in our heads.

Pippin isn’t really Pepin the Hunchback, son of Charlemagne, living in the Middle Ages. Look closely. The spectacle is symbolic of what Pippin is building “extraordinary” up to be in his head, of what he thinks he must achieve. It’s not literal spectacle.

8 His family is populated by perverse stereotypes, his fantasies filled with frightening characters of his own creation. The whole show is Pippin’s fever dream, a hallucination full of the magic he never found in his life…The show has essentially been Pippin with a (metaphorical) gun to his head, considering what led him here And the one sequence that doesn’t fit, “patching the roof and pitching the hay” (though it’s “not [his] idea of a perfect day”)? It’s different because, for once (bearing in mind we can’t trust the narrator), Pippin didn’t fail at something. Rather than striving to be extraordinary, without even trying (at least at first), he rose to the occasion as a lover and as a father.

And when Catherine and Theo break ranks with the troupe, it’s not them literally fed up with playing medieval Manson family. It’s Pippin’s realization that whether it’s “extraordinary” or not, he now has that meaning in his life that he wanted. He has someone, something, to live for. So he’ll never be a great soldier, or lead a carefree life, or be a successful politician, or succeed at anything, really, except an average life. Maybe that’s all he really needs. Maybe that’s his “corner of the sky.” (If only he could protect his (now-)son from the same journey…)

Why else would it be sprinkled with anachronisms in the costumes and dialogue, making no pretense at being a period piece, despite its characters’ names and being technically set in Charlemagne’s France? Because that’s just a jumping-off point. Because it’s really about here and now. It’s about the coming of age, the rites of passage, the lack of role models and guidelines for the young adults of today’s society, and the hopelessness that has become more and more prevalent among young people.

Think about it! We create outrageous expectations for our young people and then sabotage their chances at attaining them, asking them to grow up faster with each generation. We rarely offer them role models and we destroy the ones they have. We tell them they can have anything they want, but it’s not true. We wonder why murder and suicide among teenagers continues to increase. Maybe Pippin knows why. To some, when everything else is trashed, all that’s left is the Grand Finale. But that doesn’t have to be the case. You don’t have to do extraordinary things to be extraordinary. You don’t have to reach the highest high to be worth something. Sometimes succeeding at average, ordinary, everyday life is enough. And you don’t have to follow all the rules and get everything “right” to do that.

That’s what Pippin is about. That’s what it means. That’s why it’s such an important musical. Hell, I wish every senior class in every high school in this country (America, for me) was required to produce it every year, and then every two to four years at the end of each college career. Maybe the constant striving for perfection would be checked somewhat. But who knows?

9 FROM THE FEMINIST SPECTATOR, JUNE 25, 2013

I’ve seen Pippin several times, and have never really quite “gotten” what it’s about, because the show’s gimmicks often obscure what turns out to be a story about searching for yourself against the dictates of dominating culture. Pippin is the son of King Charlemagne. The pseudo- historical setting means very little, aside from giving the story its king and queen and its lost, Hamlet-like prince. Pippin dithers over what he should do with his life, determined to have and be more than the path that seems set out for him.

He’s inspired in his quest by the “Leading Player” who entices him away from the ordinary towards inflated schemes of power and influence and difference from the norm. But in the end, Pippin rejects both his royal lineage and his dream of uniqueness for a more ordinary life, joining Catherine, a widow, and her son, Theo, to live as a simple, loving family, disappointing the Leading Player but finally, wistfully, pleasing himself.

For those couple of hours of performance, we’re carried along with Pippin into a world in which you can sample daring feats of physicality and emotion and then change your mind about committing to them; when, for example, you can commit patricide and then think better of it, rewinding time and retrieving the knife you plunged into your kingly father’s chest.

The audience, like Pippin, is vicariously invited to try different ways of being in the world: to be the benign ruler who abolishes taxes and empowers the poor, only to quickly realize that, shucks, you can’t please everyone; to be the romantic partner who rescues the lonely widow and her melancholy son, only to feel trapped by domestic banality; to be the warrior in your father’s army, except that you really can’t get with the program of marching, murder, and mayhem; or to be prey to the pleasures of the flesh, passed from one undulating body to the next in a scene reminiscent of the Hair, and then to accept that, gee, you’re not the Casanova that you thought you might be.