Chicago Drama Fest Thrilling
The International Theatre Festival of Chicago is in its fourth year, and this year's schedule, running from May 22 to July 1, boasted 16 productions from 10 countries. On a recent weekend, I was able to see four, and what follow are brief impressions.
The festival's highlight was, without doubt, the Renaissance Theatre Company of England. Sprung full blown three years ago from the mind of young Kenneth Branaugh (29 years old), the troupe has been playing packed houses both at home and abroad. Branaugh's recent film success as adapter, director, and title player in Henry V has made him a matinee idol, and the results include sell-out houses for its current tour of "King Lear" and "Midsummer Night's Dream."
The thrill of this Lear is that Shakespeare's text takes center stage. Director Branaugh does not engage in the fashionable trend that favors distracting flourishes, and he allows the enchanting Richard Briars to command the audience with a Lear pared down to human dimensions. Briars charms his audience from the moment he speaks his first words, and one marvels not only at the versatility of these actors, but at the play's infinite possibilities.
While Lear can range from a figure of mythic proportions to a child-like figure in his dotage, possibilities for the fool are infinite. In an intriguing conception, the fool is played here by Emma Thompson (Branaugh's wife) as a crippled, asexual, humpbacked, ghost-like creature. Her face is powdered white, dark rings encircle her eyes, and she speaks with a hollow sound several registers lower than her natural voice. Much of her dialogue is sung, and the only frustration lies in the clear sense that behind these atonal, hollow strains lies a lovely singing voice.
Emma Thompson and Richard Briars again steal the show in "Midsummer Night's Dream" as Helena and Bottom, respectively. Thompson is a star among stars; she has that quality of inspired playfulness that can turn a simple line or even a word into a comic event. Briars' magnetism is accompanied by a mischievous twinkle that communicates itself to every corner of the house. In one of the funniest renditions I have ever seen of the play within the play, (Pyramis and Thisbe) the rude mechanicals take us into the 1930s, in satin tuxedos and a background of ragtime piano, and they bring the house down with a musical finale that left hardly a dry eye, so potent was the laughter. Through it all, Kenneth Branaugh mocked his own directorship and newly found fame by playing a self-important Peter Quince, director of the mechanicals' play.
And yet, all was not perfect Branaugh is said to have paired "Lear" and "Dream" because the comedy would fortify the company for the tragedy during a long and potentially draining run. He is said to have chosen "Dream" because he thought its darker side would complement "Lear." Unfortunately, his interpretation of the play's dark side is rendered quite literally, with the stage only dimly lit through all of the faery scenes. The result is tedium, abetted by the insufferably frisky Puck played by the lithe and limber young actress who prances about and coos to no particular purpose other than superfluous color. The dialogue in these scenes is lost, and one sits and wishes for the funny mechanicals to hurry back. Similarly, in "Lear," when Branaugh chooses not to rely on the script, his struggle for effect ends up obscuring the text. In a technically interesting 10 minutes, there is rain on stage for the scene where the tempest in Lear's mind competes - unsuccessfully - with the storm on the heath. Let it be clear, however, that despite these disturbances, these are thrilling productions.
The Northlight Theatre in Evanston was host to"Born in the RSA (Republic of South Africa)." Barney Simon, artistic director of the Market Theatre of Johannesburg, resurrects the show he developed (with the original Market Theatre cast) with a new, international cast of actors . The show is a compilation of testimonies by his country men, both Black and white. It is a moving statement that forms another link in the developing theatre of protest in South Africa. These political shows are not, strictly speaking, true theatre. They are a kind of newsreel, a stage documentary. In a place where everyday life trivializes what normally passes as drama, scenes from real life challenge audacity of fiction to tell South Africa's tale. True stories are translated into declamatory, evocative speeches which stand as withering testimony to the tragedy of real life. The performances are astonishing.
Finally, in the Josephine Louis Theatre of Northwestern University's campus, the Cameri Theatre of Tel Aviv presented "Shira," an adaptation of a novel by Nobel-prize winner, Joseph Agnon. "Shira" is the story of a brilliant but stymied University professor who suffers from writer's block. Desperate for a muse, he has an affair with his wife's nurse while his wife recovers from childbirth. The nurse, Shira (the Hebrew word for "poetry;" a name whose popular English equivalent is, probably, "Joy "), has an inexplicable hold on the professor, and the affair continues intermittently for years. When Shira disappears, the professor pines until he finds her in a leper colony. The final scene closes on their last embrace, an intimacy that seals the professor's doom.
The play, like the novel, is a dream-like series of symbols. It is nothing if not evocative. For that reason, seeing this play is a bit like visiting a fond, old relative. Unless one has some close association to the object of the visit, the time spent there will be boring. I loved my visit. Judging by the number of seats left empty after intermission, others did not. To hear the familiar strains of Hebrew, to see familiar manners and gestures, to hear replayed such fond, familiar songs, advice, debate, and anguish, was balm to my soul. The performers were marvelous, particularly the dashing Ilan Dar, the 53 year-old star. It is unfortunate that Adapter/Director Yoram Falk never came to grips with the fact that the novel was never finished, and that it was published posthumously with two endings. The play, too, seems unfinished. It simply stops. In spite of that, I found the evening enthralling. But visitors should beware. This play, like a private joke, is not for all.