What is it about earnest political theatre? It is so hard to knock it and yet it often fails to strike a chord. Except when pulling emotive strings with revolutionary songs or exploring the darkly funny about an impossible existence under a dictatorship, Mad Forest fails to truly compel me. Churchill's mystical Brechtianism (where priests talk to the Angel Gabriel, replete in strap-on wings and dead grandmothers give political counsel) is curious when it is being elusive. Indeed, it can be truly fascinating when, in wordless constructions, it forms a playful response to oppression. When it points to its intended meaning it lacks the drama to grip. There was, alas, a little too much pointing.
The scenes (sort of glimpses of life under Nicolae Ceauscescu's Romania) worked best when conveyed with minimum speech. At these moments they opened a little space for ambiguity. I have to ask: is it, in fact, instructive to learn of the madness under a dictator? Do I not already have a good grasp of this twisted reality? Should performance be instructive? Was this trying to educate an audience about a forgotten history? Is this history really forgotten? Are these voices unheard? Yes. Maybe. I really do not know.
This play was commissioned by the Central School of Speech and Drama in 1990. Churchill went to Romania with students from the School and interviewed Romanians who had, until that year, lived in truly paradoxically impossible circumstances under an egomaniacal dictator (manic egos seem to complement autocracy). The play was later performed at Central's Embassy Theatre before transferring to The Royal Court and the Perry Street Theatre in New York. One can well imagine that in its day, Mad Forest was essential - it must have provided a platform for encountering a country and the voices of that country which had, in effect, been cut off by the Ceauscescu regime.
And yet I am at a loss with this play. At best it was perplexing - undoubtedly a good thing - and at worst it was infuriating - which, I suppose, is not a good thing. Yes, it was playing the Brechtian card (rats on strings, clearly plastic "gold" crowns, turning on the radio and the sound comes from the top right hand corner of the room, actors switching characters) but it was not doing anything particularly exciting with that card. Yes, there were moments of great emotional tension, but alas those moments were created through easy techniques (like the revolutionary song). And yes, it was speaking to a western audience but in a way that sometimes felt a little manipulative (I do question the phrasebook moments of reading the Romanian title to a scene and the English translation - are we really tourists to all of this? Or is that the point?). Mostly, I just could not buy into it.
However, the acting was accomplished all round. In this small space (BAC's General Office) the actors gave us a range of characters, scenarios and emotions - they were strong and clear, their timings were crisp and their delivery unhurried, yet swift. I liked many of the accents - Angel Gabriel was Irish, a particular favourite. At times there were some troublesome ones (accents, that is) - generic broken English in generic Eastern European accents is not really on. When one of those generic Eastern European accents is closer to American you really have to wonder.
The direction was, on the whole, excellent. It had a great sense of structure that lent each scene a real balance - or useful imbalance. Caroline Steinbeis is clearly demonstrating why she deserved to win the JMK Trust Award here. Her scenes move at a good pace and she draws out some moments of narrative beauty and playful action. Alongside her Brechtian moments she does find space for emotion and the combination does generally work, although there are moments when you feel you do not know if this play wants to tell a good story or make us learn something. I am not sure which, in general, I dislike more, but I would have appreciated an adherence to one or the other.
Anyone who has read the reviews on this site in the past weeks will probably be aware that I am contradicting many things I have said before (since when does James Grogan demand coherence?) and I accept that. This play has really left me neither here nor there and the degree of uncertainty I feel about it is frustrating. I have asked more questions than I have answered and while I normally count that as a mark of a good piece of work, I just do not feel that here. It is a good play, it has been well acted and well directed. So what makes me not praise it? Somehow both anachronistic and claiming contemporality it has failed to find its reason for existence in this historical moment. There is a space between things that is very exciting to fill and explore, but on some occasions, and I fear this is one of them, the space between leaves you neither hot nor cold, just a tepid middle ground.
And yet, I fear, or hope even, that I wake up tomorrow and disagree with myself. Maybe you should just go and see it and disagree with me instead and we will see if we get anywhere.
At the BAC until 8th August - Tickets from the BAC Box Office on 020 7223 2223 or Online.
- James Grogan.
The scenes (sort of glimpses of life under Nicolae Ceauscescu's Romania) worked best when conveyed with minimum speech. At these moments they opened a little space for ambiguity. I have to ask: is it, in fact, instructive to learn of the madness under a dictator? Do I not already have a good grasp of this twisted reality? Should performance be instructive? Was this trying to educate an audience about a forgotten history? Is this history really forgotten? Are these voices unheard? Yes. Maybe. I really do not know.
This play was commissioned by the Central School of Speech and Drama in 1990. Churchill went to Romania with students from the School and interviewed Romanians who had, until that year, lived in truly paradoxically impossible circumstances under an egomaniacal dictator (manic egos seem to complement autocracy). The play was later performed at Central's Embassy Theatre before transferring to The Royal Court and the Perry Street Theatre in New York. One can well imagine that in its day, Mad Forest was essential - it must have provided a platform for encountering a country and the voices of that country which had, in effect, been cut off by the Ceauscescu regime.
And yet I am at a loss with this play. At best it was perplexing - undoubtedly a good thing - and at worst it was infuriating - which, I suppose, is not a good thing. Yes, it was playing the Brechtian card (rats on strings, clearly plastic "gold" crowns, turning on the radio and the sound comes from the top right hand corner of the room, actors switching characters) but it was not doing anything particularly exciting with that card. Yes, there were moments of great emotional tension, but alas those moments were created through easy techniques (like the revolutionary song). And yes, it was speaking to a western audience but in a way that sometimes felt a little manipulative (I do question the phrasebook moments of reading the Romanian title to a scene and the English translation - are we really tourists to all of this? Or is that the point?). Mostly, I just could not buy into it.
However, the acting was accomplished all round. In this small space (BAC's General Office) the actors gave us a range of characters, scenarios and emotions - they were strong and clear, their timings were crisp and their delivery unhurried, yet swift. I liked many of the accents - Angel Gabriel was Irish, a particular favourite. At times there were some troublesome ones (accents, that is) - generic broken English in generic Eastern European accents is not really on. When one of those generic Eastern European accents is closer to American you really have to wonder.
The direction was, on the whole, excellent. It had a great sense of structure that lent each scene a real balance - or useful imbalance. Caroline Steinbeis is clearly demonstrating why she deserved to win the JMK Trust Award here. Her scenes move at a good pace and she draws out some moments of narrative beauty and playful action. Alongside her Brechtian moments she does find space for emotion and the combination does generally work, although there are moments when you feel you do not know if this play wants to tell a good story or make us learn something. I am not sure which, in general, I dislike more, but I would have appreciated an adherence to one or the other.
Anyone who has read the reviews on this site in the past weeks will probably be aware that I am contradicting many things I have said before (since when does James Grogan demand coherence?) and I accept that. This play has really left me neither here nor there and the degree of uncertainty I feel about it is frustrating. I have asked more questions than I have answered and while I normally count that as a mark of a good piece of work, I just do not feel that here. It is a good play, it has been well acted and well directed. So what makes me not praise it? Somehow both anachronistic and claiming contemporality it has failed to find its reason for existence in this historical moment. There is a space between things that is very exciting to fill and explore, but on some occasions, and I fear this is one of them, the space between leaves you neither hot nor cold, just a tepid middle ground.
And yet, I fear, or hope even, that I wake up tomorrow and disagree with myself. Maybe you should just go and see it and disagree with me instead and we will see if we get anywhere.
At the BAC until 8th August - Tickets from the BAC Box Office on 020 7223 2223 or Online.
- James Grogan.
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