When Yann Martel’s novel Life of Pi won the 2002 Booker Prize, its story of survival, spirituality and storytelling became an international sensation. The tale of Pi Patel — a teenager stranded on a lifeboat in the Pacific Ocean with a Bengal tiger named Richard Parker — was later adapted into Ang Lee’s Oscar-winning film and, in 2019, reimagined for the stage by British playwright Lolita Chakrabarti. That stage version has now made its way to Edmonton’s Citadel Theatre, directed by Haysam Kadri, a University of Alberta–trained actor and director with classical training in Shakespeare.
For Life of Pi, Kadri, who is also artistic director of Alberta Theatre Projects, employs Japanese Bunraku–style puppetry, with performers animating full-scale animals on stage while their bodies and faces remain obscured. It’s one of many elements in a dazzling production that’s both visually and philosophically breathtaking.
We spoke with Kadri about the demanding athleticism of the puppetry, the casting of Pi Patel, and how his Lebanese heritage shaped his interpretation of this timeless story.
OM: Life of Pi is a co-production between the Citadel and Royal Manitoba Theatre Centre. How did this partnership come about, and what drew you personally to the project?
HK: Daryl Cloran at the Citadel Theatre and Kelly Thornton at Royal Manitoba Theatre Centre approached me after securing the Canadian rights — the first regional rights outside the national tour. The play has always fascinated me because it lives at the crossroads of survival, imagination and faith. It asks: what story do we choose to believe to survive? Working with these two organizations feels like the perfect home, as both have a history of staging ambitious works. There’s puppetry, spectacle, projection and, of course, a tiger, an orangutan and a hyena on a lifeboat in the Pacific Ocean. (laughs) Go ahead and stage that! Every transition, gesture and breath has to serve the story of survival and spiritual journey.
OM: A big part of that ambition is the Japanese Bunraku–style puppetry. Starting from the challenge of putting a tiger and other creatures on stage, how did you decide this was the right style to pursue?
HK: As with any legacy piece, there’s a spotlight because you live in the shadow of past productions and tours. But Simon Friend, the original producer, was adamant each staging be its own — new design, new approach. That gave us the freedom to create our own vision.
We assembled a great design team, each drawing inspiration from water, and held a cross-country audition to find the actors who would populate the play. We also needed a puppet director, and Dayna Tietzen has done an amazing job of creating authenticity and bringing the animals to life with the rest of the team. With Puppet Stuff Canada, and through trial and error, we arrived at the puppets you see on stage.
OM: Tell me about the tiger, Richard Parker, and the puppeteers who became him. One thing I noticed during the curtain call was that they were among the last to take a bow. I thought that spoke volumes about how important they were to the production.
HK: It was important that Troy Feldman and Braydon Dowler-Coltman were highlighted in the curtain call. The athleticism and precision needed to bring Richard Parker to life is extraordinary — one operates the head and mouth, the other the body and hind legs on mini stilts. The mechanics even depend on details like leg length and shoe size. After many workshops we found the sweet spot where they could fully embody the tiger. What’s remarkable is that Troy and Braydon didn’t know each other before, yet now they move as one. Richard Parker is a focal point of the play, and I wanted to make sure they received their due.
OM: They must have become almost like conjoined twins by the end, working in such close proximity for two hours.
HK: Exactly. This role is physically demanding, and you need very special people to pull it off. For sustainability and health, they rotate every night. Last night Troy was the head and Braydon the hind and heart inside the body; tonight they’ll switch. They share a vocabulary of movement, but each brings a distinct interpretation to the role. Even before we had the finished puppet — just a mock-up — it was amazing to watch. And they also create the tiger’s voice. That’s not a sound cue; it’s them producing the most authentic sounds they can. That’s true of all the puppets in the show.
OM: Pi Patel is also such a demanding role — physically, emotionally and spiritually — but Davinder Malhi has the perfect energy, the exuberance, the naiveté to pull him off. How did you find him?
HK: Davinder is an extraordinary artist. He brings openness and vulnerability to Pi, balancing the character’s curiosity and wonder with the resilience needed to survive. In auditions I hadn’t met him before, but within 20 seconds I was floored. He embodies contradictions — fragile yet resilient, questioning yet faithful, young yet wise — and he listens deeply, not just to his scene partners but to the design elements around him. He remains truthful even amid the spectacle, and he invites the audience to believe in Pi’s story and in imagination itself as a form of survival. His emotional range is remarkable, and he’s simply a generous, extraordinary human being.
OM: Your parents immigrated to Canada from Lebanon, a country that, not unlike India and Pakistan in the 1970s, was shaped by political strife, colonialism and civil war. How did that impact your interpretation of the story?
HK: For me, Life of Pi isn’t just allegorical — it’s a lived experience for many families, including my own. My parents carried that sense of being between two worlds, holding on to culture and identity while navigating new realities. I wanted to bring that truth to the stage — to honour the poetry and spectacle of the play, but root it in something emotionally raw that captures the human condition. My dad passed away three years ago, and my mom still visits Lebanon every summer. At its core, this story is about survival, faith, courage and imagining a future beyond catastrophe, war, and political strife — all things still happening in our world today. Ultimately, it’s a team effort, but for me this has been life-changing as an artist.
Life of Pi runs until October 5, 2025 at the Citadel Theatre.
This interview was edited for brevity and clarity.
