White Snake (played by Amy Kim Waschke) contemplates leaving her mountain and entering the world of humans in the Oregon Shakespeare Festival’s production of The White Snake. (Photo/Jenny Graham, courtesy of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival)

If you’ve never been to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival (OSF) in Ashland, Oregon, this is the year for you to go. OSF’s The White Snake offers a magical and gently compelling love story that both moves and captivates the very heart of what makes us human. While it’s a love story between a supernatural spirit and a human, it’s also about the power of true friendship between two souls who stand by each other through time.

The White Snake is emotionally and visually stunning, with fine acting and wondrous projections and lighting effects. The tight-knit, skilled ensemble of actors deftly moves through technically challenging scene changes. The stunning beauty of the production and the play’s ultimate message of love leaves the audience breathless while at the same time rising for a standing ovation. It’s a play the whole family would enjoy.

Created with a mostly Asian-American cast, the production honors a story not all Asian Americans might know. Though I’ve read many Chinese legends about Kuan Yin, the Asian bodhisattva of mercy and compassion (who plays a small part in this play), I wasn’t familiar with the legend of White Snake.

Many versions have been told and retold over several centuries through books and Chinese opera, and even an American opera, as well as countless films and television shows. Not a traditional oral folktale or fable, White Snake is a legend that exists in a very real place, much like King Arthur’s Camelot is set in particular locations in England. There is an actual Broken Bridge on the West Lake in Hangzhou in the eastern province of China that tour groups visit along with Leifeng Pagoda. Both spots figure prominently in the legend.

In OSF’s version, White Snake (played by Amy Kim Waschke) travels down from her mountain and befriends another spirit named Green Snake (played by Tanya McBride). They both decide to take human form to learn more about what it means to be human.

The two meet a young pharmacist’s assistant, Xu Xian (played by Christopher Livingston). White Snake falls in love with him and decides to stay in human form so she can wed Xu Xian. She then opens a pharmacy business that becomes quite successful, so much so that a jealous monk, Fa Hai (played by Jack Willis), decides to split up the couple. After all, it’s unnatural for a spirit and human to marry. Death, resurrection, and a tremendous water battle ensue and play out beautifully onstage.

Director and adapter Mary Zimmerman comes with an award-winning track record of creating new work about myths and legends in collaboration with actors, musicians, and designers. Several scenes moved me to tears. It was inspiring for me to see so many Asian actors on the OSF stage, though I couldn’t help but think how historic it would have been to have an entire Asian cast. This season does have the most Asian-American actors in the company — about 16 percent, according to OSF. But at OSF, non-traditional casting also means Asian roles go to non-Asians.

I must confess, it was 15 minutes into the 90-minute show before I could fully enjoy the beauty of The White Snake. I had to let go of the dread that it would somehow be littered with stereotypes as so many cultural stories become when presented to a mainstream audience. Thankfully there are no Chinese accents or caricatures. Instead, I found The White Snake to be the opposite — it isn’t quite Chinese.

I believe the intent of the play is to create universality for a non-Asian audience. The costuming is beautiful, with some Japanese and Korean influences, and the Chinese stick rod puppetry is re-imagined for this production. But the script segues from pure poetry to lines geared toward Americanisms and easy laughs, such as the anti-vegetarian innuendos.

Many of these lines are from the two-dimensionally evil Fa Hai. The character seems more American West cattle baron than monk with declarations such as "this is Buddha’s Country" and shouting the usually holy "Amitabha Buddha" (which means "infinite light") as a swear word. Fa Hai in legend has been presented as a king or sorcerer, but eventually the character changed to a monk, a character that led many Buddhist monks to distance themselves from this version.

After those first 15 minutes, I let go of my wish to hear correct Chinese pronunciations with tones. Perhaps that is another attempt to appeal to a non-Asian audience. This is a small detail that perhaps only those who speak Chinese would catch, but it seems a missed opportunity to not include the tonal beauty of the language.

Another omission for me is the lack of Chinese opera movement for some of the choreographed segments. Again, it’s a small detail in a play filled with many exquisite parts, but it could have perfected the production. Non-Asian audience members probably wouldn’t notice, but when The White Snake moves to Berkeley Repertory Theatre in November, chances are there will be more people in the audience who will wonder about some of these touches of authenticity.

One cannot deny the power of the production and I urge everyone to book tickets to The White Snake before it closes in July. There are so few Asian plays being presented now and this re-imagining of a beloved legend will live on in memory for those who have the good fortune to see it.

To learn more about The White Snake and the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, visit <www.OSFAshland.org>.