Moon Delight

She Who Makes the Moon the Moon

Through Feb. 24, 9:30 and 10:30 p.m., midnights on Fridays and Saturdays, midnight only on Feb. 14, Pig Iron Theatre Co. at Beau Monde, Sixth and Bainbridge sts., 215-627-1883



Snack time: (from left) Bauriedel, Salama and Van Reigersberg.

Charming, tasty and altogether engaging, She Who Makes the Moon the Moon is a lovely way to spend an hour. Pig Iron’s founders, Dito van Reigersberg and Quinn Bauriedel, recently returned from a year in Indonesia where they studied the art of shadow puppets. They provide the voices for the small, silhouetted figures they manipulate on a screen, while Ralph Denzer accompanies on a variety of instruments. Deborah Stein adapted the story by Italo Calvino, the great and witty 20th century Italian author, who wrote two whimsical "Moon" stories; the one included in Cosmicomics, "The Distance of the Moon," is the basis for this show. It’s about love and astronomy and although you’ll get the plot without reading the story first, it will make more sense if you’ve read it first.

In brief, it’s about unrequited love (a curious and bittersweet Valentine) during a time when the cosmos was younger and the moon closer to the earth. People climb ladders from boats and jump onto the moon to gather cheese. Each month, the nearness grows less and the leap longer, until, finally, there is no returning.

A boy loves the sea captain’s wife. She loves a sailor, the Deaf One. The Deaf One loves only the moon. It’s about the inevitable moving apart of two bodies (human and astronomical) as the force of gravitational pull decreases and the universe expands. Sigh.

The puppets match the story’s wit and delicacy — tiny wrists bend, a startling rhinoceros appears, a veil is drawn across the screen and fish puppets swim in the ocean. It’s enchanting.

But every art form is entitled to its due: Why not wait until after the brief show to serve the dessert (a delicious confection of spun sugar and a chocolate boat sailing in a sea of crème anglais) — every element of the show is translated in this treat, including a tiny chocolate earth wrapped in foil. Chef David Salama deserves to have us see his creation in the light and also to have us "get" it (which we can’t until we’ve seen the puppets). It’s also a self-sabotaging pity to distract our attention from the puppets by having a waitress suddenly serve dessert.

—Toby Zinman

A prix-fixe dinner preceding the early show is also available as a show/meal package.