Kermit Dunkelberg, who adapted this production from the novel and performs in it, throws so many ideas and images into the mix that it's difficult to know what to focus on. The protagonist's name is changed from Josef to Yusef K., but other obvious chances to explore the notion of the outsider are completely missed despite their importance in the novel.
According to the press material, Dunkelberg was inspired by the music of Hungarian composer Gyorgy Kurtag , who wrote "Kafka Fragmente," but even though Dunkelberg introduces this work, it doesn't offer the enlightenment he may have imagined. Dunkelberg has also staged the play as part silent-film comedy, complete with cue cards to identify our place in the story and our role in the proceedings, and part tribute to the 1920s jazz era, when Kafka wrote it. Christopher Crowley plays a "silent usher," whose responsibilities include manipulating props and keeping the cue cards moving, but he is not integrated very effectively into the story.
Dunkelberg takes most of the responsibility for the storytelling himself, morphing easily from Yusef to an arresting officer, from a clownish, cigar-chomping lawyer to an impassioned preacher, all of which works wonderfully as a way to illuminate the idea that all the characters involved in Yusef's demise are aspects of himself.
But Dunkelberg has cherry-picked sections of the novel to illustrate his points, and it may be difficult for anyone not familiar with the book to keep track of the story. The beauty of Kafka's writing comes from the way the tale weaves a path through bureaucracy that becomes ever more complicated, with K making choices at each step that make his situation worse rather than better.
Along the way, this production has some brilliant visual moments. Making the "blockheads" who arrest K actual mannequins emphasizes the absurdity of the authority figures. At one point, the silent usher pretends to be the alluring Miss Burstner (a woman K is attracted to) by putting pink stockings on his arms and slipping black flowered pumps on his hands. With the music playing and the lighting only on the gentle shuffling of her feet on a desk, the image is simple and seductive. Later, the silent usher uses a Ken doll to illustrate the notorious torture technique of "water boarding," and it's shocking to see it done, even to an inanimate object.
"Kafka's ' The Trial ' " offers a rich combination of ingredients, but it feels like this stew hasn't had enough time to simmer on the creative stove. Director Kim Mancuso needs to boil Dunkelberg's imaginative collection of imagery and ideas down to its essentials before the helpless beauty of this tale can become clear.