It
was the last week of September, and Mercury was still in retrograde.
I
had looked forward to my first theatre outings of the BAM Next Wave autumn
season. The first production for which
we had tickets was Sophocles’ Antigone
in a new adaptation by Anne Carson directed by Ivo Van Hove, playing at the BAM
Harvey. It’s catch-as-catch-can with van
Hove – sometimes his productions are exhilarating, sometimes exhausting. I’d enjoyed his 5 1/2 hour Roman Tragedies,
Shakespeare’s three Roman plays (in Dutch)
(http://www.mollyismusing.blogspot.com/2012/11/friends-romans-dutch.html), but
could not say the same for others. This
time around, the British cast is led by Juliette Binoche, who, while she looks
better than most women look ever,
cannot pass for the essentially teenaged — in body and mind — Antigone. Whoever plays her, Antigone should be young
and impetuous and passionate, whereas Ms. Binoche merely shouted her frustration.
 |
| Kirsty Bushell as Ismene and Juliette Binoche as Antigone. (Credit: Julieta Cervantes for The New York Times ) |
The
production includes a beautiful backdrop with alternating sun/moon/eclipses
happening back there, although at some points the desert sun was just too
bright. While I understand the fiscal
sense of double-casting in a traveling production, only Eurydice (Kathryn
Pogson) consistently differentiated her “Chorus” character from her wife of
Creon character. When the audience
cannot tell if the actor is playing Ismene (Kirsty Bushell) or Haimon or members
of the Chorus, clearly some doubling just doesn’t pay. Antigone is an interesting story, with valid
problems to probe, but the actors in van Hove’s production were so busy emoting
that the right questions weren’t asked. Ms.
Carson’s adaptation and Mr. van Hove’s production added nothing to the canon of
Antigone.
#
The next evening we went to BAM’s Opera House to see James
Thiérée and his company perform a piece called Tabac Rouge. M. Thiérée and his company
are marvelous performers, extraordinarily skilled in circus gymnastics and
dance. Unfortunately, that evening
things went wrong. The performance (not
the first time in the space) started ¾ hour late and played ¼ longer than
originally stated. It was dark, visually
and presumably thematically as well. It began
so very slowly, which is not unusual for the troupe, but when the non-narrative
dragged on in the same vein, I waited, needing the performers to pull me
in. They did not, despite some unfortunately few and far between magical
moments.
I’ve seen this company perform several times, and have generally enjoyed
whatever they gave. The company does not
do linear pieces, and we are talking weird: the audience must and does
surrender to whatever vision comes forth.
But Tabac Rouge just didn’t
work for me. Sadly, I was bored to
tears, the confusion and darkness lulled me into nodding off more than
once. I’ve already apologized to my
friends for waking with a snore, and now I’ll happily apologize to other
members of the audience for the disturbance.
But that’s all I can do.
 |
| (Credit: Julieta Cervantes for The New York Times ) |
Tabac Rouge appeared to be a Steampunk “Lord
of the Flies,” but the island was wood and metal and filled with screaming
feral females, all gathered 'round the dominant male, Monsieur Thiérée. All the performers are extraordinary, twisting
and turning their powerful bodies this way and that, but I really didn’t like
the show at all.
Two unpleasant theatre experiences in a row, for both of which I
had high hopes. Not a good way to start
my fall season.
#
But
then, despite the fact that Mercury was yet in retrograde, the weekend served
up something jollier when a friend and I attended “Hand to God,” expecting an
amusing evening and no more.
 |
| Steven Boyer (and Tyrone) and Sarah Stiles (Credit: Sara Krulwich for NYT) |
Hand to God is very, very funny. Every performance is excellent (as are the set,
lights, sound, all), and the “understudy” we saw in the female lead was fully
integrated with the rest of the company and quite marvelous. There’s little time for thought during the
evening, as the audience continually roars with laughter, so you don’t worry
about things like “is it a play or a sketch.”
Hand to God presumably started
life as a more than clever sketch that someone told the playwright to expand into a
play with a through-line. He did, and
that made the second act a bit unbalanced with too much denouement, but it was
brief, and the evening‘s performances kept the audience gasping for breath
between laughs. The language and story
are utterly profane, the psychology perhaps juvenile, but sometimes there is
just no need to think about such things.
Bravo to playwright Robert Askins
and director Moritz von Stuelpnagel for
a fun evening at the Booth Theatre with stellar performances from Steven Boyer, Mark Kudisch, Pamela Bob,
Sarah Stiles, and Michael
Oberholtzer. Whatever Hand
to God is, it sure is funny.
Happily, Mercury is no longer in retrograde, so we can all go back to the theatre in safety.
~ Molly Matera, signing off to prepare for some Pinter
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