The Cay

LOOK TO THE SKY Emotions run high during wartime in The Cay.

Part adventure story, part racism lesson, The Cay (based on Taylor’s 1969 children’s novel) is told from 11-year-old Phillip’s point of view. Phillip is an American living with his parents on the island of Curaçao in 1942, until worries about the war prompt his mother to return with him to the U.S. Their ship is hit by a German torpedo, and Phillip wakes up to find himself on a raft with the ship cook’s cat and an old black sailor named Timothy. Phillip’s head injury soon causes him to lose his sight; though he’s been taught by his mother to stay away from black people, he has no choice but to trust caring, patient Timothy to keep him alive.

Cornelison’s adaptation has some clunky elements; Phillip’s mother’s views are so lightly touched upon that Phillip’s first racist outburst comes as a shock, and Taylor’s deftly made point about a kid who thinks war is cool—until he experiences its reality—is excised completely. But Delheimer’s gorgeous, challenging production smooths over the wrinkles. Two dancers, Meghan Brown and Allisa-Zee Hartmann, serve as koken (the “invisible” prop handlers native to Japanese theater), their movements providing everything from flying fish to a hurricane. The effects should dazzle third- to sixth-graders (around the lead character’s age); the storytelling is sophisticated enough for parents to enjoy, too. Even couched in a survival story, Taylor’s message comes through loud and clear, and it’s one worth talking about on the ride home.